Marcus: Nobody moves an inch, Miss Vance. Step away from the pantry.
Victoria: Get your hands off me, security! I pay your monthly retainer!
Marcus: Mr. Sterling pays my retainer, ma'am. And right now, you are a felony suspect.
Charles: Paramedic Lisa, did the chemical cause any permanent damage to her vocal cords or esophagus?
Paramedic Lisa: Her airway is stabilizing thanks to the rescue inhaler you administered, Mr. Sterling. But her throat lining has mild chemical burns.
Charles: Will she need surgery?
Paramedic Lisa: We will keep her under twenty-four-hour observation and administer intravenous steroids to reduce swelling. She is going to make a full recovery.
Charles: Thank God... Thank God Almighty.
Charles pressed his forehead against Emily's hair, letting out a long, shuddering breath as his chest uncoiled.
Emily: Daddy, look at the bottom shelf of the pantry. Right behind the cereal boxes.
Charles: What is in the pantry, Emily?
Emily: She hid a brown glass bottle wrapped in paper towels this morning before breakfast.
Victoria's breath hitched in her throat, her hands flying to her mouth as her eyes bulged with raw terror.
Victoria: Don't touch that! That is an organic pest spray for the rose garden!
Charles: Marcus, retrieve that bottle with sterile evidence gloves.
Marcus pulled a pair of blue latex gloves from his utility belt, stepping into the walk-in pantry and reaching behind the shelves.
He emerged seconds later holding a dark amber glass bottle labeled with red skull-and-crossbones hazard warnings.
Marcus: Concentrated potassium cyanide and sulfuric compound, Mr. Sterling. Manufactured in an unlicensed chemical plant in Belize.
Charles: An industrial toxin strictly prohibited from civilian purchase in the United States.
Victoria: The gardener bought that! I have never seen that bottle in my life!
Marcus: Your fingerprint is clearly visible on the neck of the bottle in dried dust, Miss Vance.
Charles: You didn't just want to trigger her asthma, Victoria. You wanted her heart to stop before the brunch started.
Victoria: You drove me to this, Charles! You kept talking about your late wife and your perfect daughter every single day!
Charles: Because they are my family! You were supposed to be a partner who respected that legacy!
Victoria: I was never going to be second place to a dead woman and a teenage brat!
Charles: You were never going to be anything in this house, Victoria. You are a cold, hollow shell driven by pure greed.
Victoria: If you send me to prison, my family's business associates will pull every cargo ship from your docks!
Charles: Your family has no business associates left, Victoria. The FBI unsealed a federal racketeering indictment this morning that names thirty-four corporate executives.
Victoria: Thirty-four executives...? Who gave the federal prosecutors that information?!
Charles: My late wife, Sarah, gathered the evidence before she passed away three years ago.
Victoria stumbled backward, her knees hitting the lower kitchen cabinet as the room seemed to spin around her.
Victoria: Sarah...? Sarah was an ordinary philanthropist!
Charles: Sarah was a senior forensic investigator for the Securities and Exchange Commission before she married me, Victoria.
Emily: My mother spent five years tracking your father's offshore money laundering operations, Victoria.
Victoria: You... You knew all along? You let me move into this house knowing my family was under federal investigation?!
Charles: We needed to find out who was funneling corporate funds into your father's accounts from inside my executive board.
Victoria: You used me as bait?!
Charles: You used yourself, Victoria. Your arrogance was so blind that you couldn't resist trying to take everything.
From the long tree-lined driveway outside, the high-pitched wail of police sirens began to echo across the estate.
Flashing red and blue emergency lights painted the white kitchen walls in rapid, rhythmic strokes.