Four Dallas police cruisers and an unmarked tactical SUV rolled onto the circular cobblestone driveway.
Gravel crunched under heavy tires as six armed officers stepped out into the bright Texas daylight.
Leading the squad was Detective Marcus Miller from the Major Crimes Division, his gold shield catching the midday sun.
Detective Miller: Marcus Sterling? We received your emergency priority dispatch from corporate security.
Marcus: Over here, Detective Miller. The suspect is standing right by the sofa.
Victoria: Marcus Miller! Thank goodness it's you! Tell these patrolmen to stand down! This is a domestic dispute!
Detective Miller stepped into the grand parlor, looking down at Victoria's soot-stained dress and burned hand with cold disgust.
Detective Miller: Keep your hands where we can see them, Rachel Vance. Do not attempt to move.
Victoria: Do not call me that name! And Marcus assaulted me! He burned my hand with that iron!
Detective Miller: Under Texas Penal Code Section 9.32, reasonable physical force is fully justified to defend an infant from violent felony assault.
Victoria: Nobody was assaulted! The iron slipped while I was pressing linen pillows!
Detective Miller: We have the 4K security footage from your ceiling dome, Rachel. We watched you press that iron onto that baby's foot.
Victoria's jaw fell slack, her eyes darting frantically between the armed officers.
Victoria: You watched the live video already?!
Detective Miller: The feed was routed directly to our dispatch center fifteen minutes ago, ma'am.
Detective Miller pulled a heavy red leather portfolio from his jacket, holding it up before her eyes.
Detective Miller: Charge one: attempted capital murder of a child under six years of age.
Detective Miller: Charge two: felony injury to a child with intentional severe bodily trauma.
Detective Miller: Charge three: grand corporate identity fraud and wire fraud exceeding thirty-two million dollars.
Victoria staggered back against the coffee table, her burned hand throbbing violently as panic overwhelmed her.
Victoria: Wire fraud?! What are you talking about?!
Marcus: Did you honestly think I wouldn't check the bank accounts you opened in the Cayman Islands last month?
Victoria: Those accounts belong to my uncle's shipping trust! I have nothing to do with corporate wire transfers!
Marcus: Your signature is on thirty-two fraudulent transfer authorizations, Victoria.
Victoria: Uncle Arthur told me I was signing routine tax forms for our joint venture!
Marcus: You transferred twelve million dollars directly out of Sterling Logistics' employee pension reserve.
Victoria's knees buckled completely, and she collapsed onto the floor in a heap of wrinkled white silk.
Victoria: Arthur swore on his life that money would be replaced before the quarterly corporate audit!
Marcus: Your uncle Arthur took a plea deal with federal prosecutors forty-five minutes ago, Victoria.
Victoria gasped, her head snapping up in raw, disbelieving horror.
Victoria: A plea deal...?! Arthur betrayed me?!
Marcus: He traded you to save himself from dying in a federal penitentiary in Colorado.
Victoria: That coward! That selfish, disgusting old bastard! He promised me he would protect me!
Elena: There is no honor among thieves, Victoria. You should have learned that long ago.
Detective Miller: Officers, secure the prisoner. Maximum felony restraint protocol.
Two uniformed patrolmen stepped forward, grabbing Victoria's wrists and wrenching them behind her back.
The cold steel handcuffs clicked shut with a sharp, heavy double-snap that echoed through the parlor.
Victoria: Ah! You're squeezing my burned hand! Be careful, you animals!
Officer Davis: Hands behind your back, ma'am. You have the right to remain silent.
Victoria: Marcus, you weak, pathetic coward! I hope you rot in this empty house with your dead wife's ghost!
Marcus looked down at her with icy, unwavering disgust, stepping sideways to clear the path for the officers.
Marcus: I am not alone, Victoria. I have my daughter, I have my family's honor, and I have the truth.