Isabella thrashed against the officers' grip, her golden satin gown trailing on the marble floor as they forced her toward the front entryway. Her manicured nails dug into the officer's sleeve, but the grip held tight.
Isabella: Ethan! Tell them to stop! Call Richard! Call my corporate attorney!
Ethan: Richard was arrested twenty minutes ago at the downtown hotel, Isabella.
Isabella froze, her eyes widening in sheer panic as she stared at her husband.
Isabella: What... what do you mean Richard was arrested?
Ethan: Did you really think I didn't notice the three million dollars moved from the corporate reserve account last Tuesday?
Isabella: That was a legal investment for the new property development!
Ethan: That was a wire transfer to a shell company in the Cayman Islands registered under your attorney's name.
Detective Vance: Your attorney gave a full digital statement thirty minutes ago, Mrs. Vance. He handed over the email logs showing you instructed him to liquidate the boy's trust fund.
Isabella: That traitorous coward! He swore those offshore accounts were untraceable!
Ethan: Nothing is untraceable when my forensic accountants dig through the company server.
Boy: Daddy... is the bad lady going away now?
Ethan: She's going away for a very long time, Leo. She will never step foot on this property again.
Isabella: You can't take my share of the mansion, Ethan! The prenup guarantees me the west wing!
Ethan: Clause fourteen of our prenuptial agreement states that any act of felony violence against my son voids every single financial claim you have to the Vance estate.
Isabella: I didn't commit felony violence! I just locked him in a room for a few hours!
Detective Vance: Locking a minor inside an unventilated wall space with intent to defraud is a Class Two felony, Mrs. Vance. Move your feet.
The officers pushed Isabella through the heavy double doors into the night air. Outside, flashing red and blue lights illuminated the marble pillars of the mansion entrance. The high-society guests from the evening dinner party stood on the driveway, holding up their phones as cameras flashed in the dark.
Guest A: Is that Isabella Vance in handcuffs?
Guest B: My God, she tried to lock Ethan's boy in the wall!
Guest C: Look at her dress! What a complete disgrace to the Vance family!
Isabella: Turn those cameras off! Stop recording me!
Detective Vance: Watch your head getting into the cruiser, ma'am.
The police car door slammed shut with a heavy thud, cutting off her shrill shouting. The cruiser pulled away down the long estate driveway, its red lights fading into the tree line.
Ethan turned back toward the marble hall, kneeling down beside Hannah and Leo.
Ethan: Hannah, how long have you worked for my family?
Hannah: Four years, Mr. Vance. Your late wife hired me right before she passed.
Ethan: My wife chose well. You saved my boy's life tonight.
Hannah: I just did what was right, sir. I couldn't stand by and watch her hurt little Leo.
Ethan: Starting tomorrow, your salary is quadrupled. And you are appointed as the primary estate manager for this house.
Hannah: Mr. Vance... that's too much. I'm just a maid.
Ethan: You aren't just a maid, Hannah. You are the guardian who protected my family when I was blind to the truth.