Mark: You slapped me in front of my own mother in my own house[cite: 1]!
Claire: This house belongs to my late father's estate trust, Mark[cite: 1]!
Eleanor: Mark, call the police right now and have this violent lunatic arrested[cite: 1]!
Claire: Call them, Eleanor! Call the sheriff and tell him why you were wishing death on a four-month-old baby[cite: 1]!
Mark: She didn't mean it literally, Claire! It’s an old country expression[cite: 1]!
Claire: An old country expression to shake an infant and shout 'dead' into her face[cite: 1]?!
Maya coughed, gasping for breath as she buried her wet nose into Claire’s collarbone[cite: 1].
Claire: Look at her arms, Mark! Look at the red thumbprints on her skin[cite: 1]!
Mark looked down for half a second before averting his eyes toward the marble fireplace[cite: 1].
Mark: Babies bruise easily, Claire. Mom probably held her tight so she wouldn't slip[cite: 1].
Claire: You coward. You pathetic, spineless mama's boy[cite: 1].
Eleanor: How dare you speak to my son like that! He is an executive vice president[cite: 1]!
Claire: He is an executive vice president because my uncle appointed him to the logistics board[cite: 1]!
Mark: Don't bring my career into our private marital arguments, Claire[cite: 1].
Claire: Your career exists because my family funded your entire education and paid your debts[cite: 1]!
Eleanor: We don't owe you anything! You were lucky Mark even agreed to marry you after your father died[cite: 1]!
Claire: My father left an eight-million-dollar inheritance trust that you have been trying to steal since day one[cite: 1]!
Mark stepped forward, his hand dropping from his swollen cheek as his voice dropped into an icy hiss[cite: 1].
Mark: Hand me the baby right now, Claire. We are going to Mom’s house for the weekend[cite: 1].
Claire: You will never take this child out of my sight again[cite: 1].
Mark: I am her biological father, and I have equal legal rights under state custody statutes[cite: 1].
Claire: Equal rights? You didn't even show up to her pediatric wellness checkup yesterday[cite: 1]!
Mark: I had an emergency shareholder assembly in Dallas, you know that[cite: 1]!
Claire: You weren't in Dallas, Mark. You were at the county probate records office with Eleanor[cite: 1].
Mark froze mid-stride, his jaw dropping open as all color drained from his face[cite: 1].
Mark: How... how do you know where I was[cite: 1]?
Claire: Because my probate attorney called me the second you tried to access my family trust files[cite: 1].
Eleanor stepped between them, her bony hands clenching into fists at her sides[cite: 1].
Eleanor: As Mark’s legal wife, your marital assets are community property under state law[cite: 1]!
Claire: Not when there is an ironclad prenuptial agreement on file with the district court, Eleanor[cite: 1].
Eleanor: That prenup is invalid! We found the technical flaw in the disclosure clauses[cite: 1]!
Claire: You found nothing except a one-way ticket to state prison for corporate fraud[cite: 1].
Mark lunged toward her, reaching his fingers out to grab Maya’s blanket[cite: 1].
Mark: Give me my daughter, Claire! Don't make me use physical force against you[cite: 1]!
Claire backed up toward the front entrance, her hand reaching into her olive shirt pocket[cite: 1].
Claire: Take one more step toward me, Mark, and the surveillance footage goes live to the evening news[cite: 1].
Mark paused, his eyes darting frantically toward the high corners of the modern living room[cite: 1].
Mark: What surveillance footage? There are no security cameras in this dining room[cite: 1]!
Claire smiled coldly through her tears, nodding toward the brass smoke detector on the ceiling[cite: 1].
A tiny pinhole camera flashed with a steady blue pulse, recording every sound and movement in high definition[cite: 1].