Brandon: Clara, take my son downstairs to the car. My driver, Thomas, is waiting at the front steps with the engine running.
Clara: Yes, Mr. Sterling. Right away.
Evelyn: Don't you dare take that child out of this house, Clara!
Brandon: Step back from her, Evelyn! If you touch her or my son again, I will throw you down those marble stairs myself!
Clara quickly took the infant from Brandon's arms, holding him close as she hurried out the double doors of the nursery. Evelyn made a move to follow her, but Brandon stepped directly into her path, his broad shoulders blocking the hallway exit entirely.
Evelyn: Get out of my way, Brandon! You can't lock me out of my own family's mansion!
Brandon: This isn't your mansion, Evelyn. Father removed your name from the property deed two months before he died because he caught you stealing from the charity accounts.
Evelyn: That's a lie! He promised me this house in his original draft!
Brandon: Drafts mean nothing in a probate court. The final executed will is filed with the Dallas County Clerk, and it names my son as the sole property owner.
Evelyn's face turned red with rage, her golden gown shimmering under the chandelier light as her hands clenched into tight fists.
Evelyn: You think you're so smart because you have that red drive? That data is encrypted with state-level security! You can't use it in court without the master decryption key!
Brandon: Look at the tablet screen again, Evelyn.
Evelyn's eyes darted toward the glowing glass monitor resting on the mahogany desk. The terminal code was no longer scrambling. A green status bar moved steadily across the display: Decryption Complete. Override Granted.
Evelyn: What... how did you unlock it?
Brandon: Maya didn't just give me a drive, Evelyn. She gave me the master security password that Father set up for the family trust ten years ago.
Evelyn: Father gave her the master password?
Brandon: He trusted her more than he ever trusted you or Victoria. He knew you were capable of anything if money was on the line.
Evelyn backed away until her lower spine pressed against the white wooden railing of the baby crib. Her arrogant composure completely dissolved, replaced by a pale, trembling dread.
Evelyn: Brandon... I was desperate. The offshore accounts went under last year... I owed millions to investors in New York!
Brandon: That isn't my problem, Evelyn. And it certainly isn't my six-month-old son's problem.
Evelyn: If the police look into those bank accounts, they'll find Victoria's name too! They'll destroy our entire social standing in Dallas!
Brandon: Good. You and Victoria belong in a correctional facility, not in high society.
Brandon pulled his smartphone from his inner jacket pocket and swiped the screen open, tapping a speed-dial entry for his personal attorney.
Evelyn: Who are you calling?
Brandon: I'm calling Arthur Vance. And then I'm calling the District Attorney's office to drop the false charges against Maya.