Victoria: What is that folder? Why are you waving legal files in my face?
William: This is the unsealed forensic probate audit from Clara's estate.
Victoria: Clara died two years ago, William! Her money belongs to the surviving household!
William: Clara's money belongs to Toby, Victoria. Not to me, and certainly not to you.
Victoria: I gave up my high-society life in Manhattan to move into this drafty mansion!
William: You gave up nothing, Victoria. Your Manhattan gallery was liquidated by creditors last winter.
Victoria: That was an economic downturn! Everyone in the luxury market took heavy losses!
William: You owed fourteen million dollars to private loan sharks who were threatening your father.
Victoria backed up toward the marble fireplace, her gown dragging across the floor.
Victoria: That debt was going to be settled by our corporate merger!
William: Sterling Global is not an ATM for insolvent socialites, Victoria.
Victoria: We were building a partnership together! You said you needed a mother for Toby!
William: I needed a loving mother, not a predator who calculates survivorship ratios on a baby.
Victoria froze against the stone mantel, her breath turning shallow and rapid.
Victoria: What survivorship ratios?! I don't know what you are talking about!
William: Read clause eight of Clara's original irrevocable trust agreement.
William opened the folder, thrusting the heavy parchment right before her eyes.
William: Read the section regarding permanent physical trauma to the primary heir.
Victoria stared at the black ink, her hands trembling so hard the paper fluttered in the air.
Victoria: 'In the event of the minor heir suffering severe brain injury or death, sixty percent voting control reverts to the legal stepmother'...
William: You knew that clause was in there because you paid my family notary fifty thousand dollars to forge it.
Victoria: That is a disgusting slander! I never touched your notary!
William: Thomas Miller confessed to the Dallas district attorney two hours ago, Victoria.
Victoria: Thomas Miller is a lying scoundrel who was stealing from your company escrow accounts!
William: He handed over your text messages, Victoria. And the bank wire slips from your account in Nassau.
Victoria took two fast steps back, her high heels clicking loudly against the marble tiles.
Victoria: Those wire transfers were consulting retainers for estate planning advice!
William: You asked him in writing how far a six-month-old infant had to fall onto marble to cause permanent neurological damage.
The grandfather clock in the corner ticked with a hollow, echoing rhythm that chilled the room.
Victoria: That... That was research for a charity novel! I was helping a colleague write a medical thriller!
William: A medical thriller?! You dropped my child four feet onto solid stone ten minutes after I walked in!
Victoria: It slipped! I swear on my life my fingers just gave out!
William: Your fingers didn't give out, Victoria. You looked right at Sarah and asked who I would believe.
Victoria's eyes darted toward the high ceiling, her face turning as pale as bleached bone.
Victoria: Sarah is making up stories to get revenge on me because I reprimanded her!
William: Look up at the center carved medallion above that crystal chandelier, Victoria.
Victoria slowly tilted her head back, her gaze landing on a tiny black glass dome pulsing with a red diode.
William: That 4K security lens uploads forty-eight frames per second directly to our secure cloud server.
Victoria gasped, clapping both hands over her throat as cold panic seized her chest.