Victoria: Marcus, please! Think about our social reputation! Think about the Dallas country club gala!
Marcus: Your reputation ended the moment you let go of my child.
Victoria: I will sign a complete legal waiver! I'll surrender all claims to the shipping merger and leave tonight!
Marcus: You won't take a single step past those front gates, Victoria.
Victoria: My father's defense attorneys will have this warrant thrown out before dinner!
Marcus: Your father's attorneys were disqualified by the federal magistrate two hours ago, Victoria.
Victoria: Disqualified?! On what possible legal grounds?!
Marcus: On grounds of facilitating twelve million dollars in fraudulent offshore transfers through Panama.
Victoria backed away toward the grand staircase, her crimson gown rustling against the wainscoting.
Victoria: That twelve million dollars was an authorized bridge loan for our maritime fuel reserves!
Marcus: That money was transferred to an account in the Cayman Islands registered under your maiden name.
Victoria: My father told me to open that account! He said it was an emergency family trust fund!
Marcus: Your father gave federal prosecutors every single email between you two this morning.
Victoria gasped, her hands shaking so hard that she nearly fell down the top riser of the stairs.
Victoria: My father... gave them my personal emails?!
Marcus: He made a plea deal at ten o'clock this morning to save himself from life imprisonment.
Victoria: That selfish, disgusting old coward! He promised me he would protect me no matter what!
Marcus: There is no honor among thieves, Victoria. You should have learned that long ago.
The heavy iron gates at the end of the long driveway groaned as they swung open.
The high-pitched wail of police sirens began to echo up the tree-lined avenue, growing louder by the second.
Flashing red and blue emergency lights swept across the white columns of the mansion, painting the gallery walls in crimson strokes.
Victoria turned toward the balcony stairs in pure, naked terror, but heavy tactical boots were already pounding up the steps.
Four uniformed police officers and two armed federal marshals marched onto the second-floor gallery.
Leading the squad was Detective Marcus Miller from the Dallas Police Major Crimes Division, his gold shield gleaming.
Detective Miller: Marcus Vance? We received the emergency priority dispatch from corporate security.
Marcus: Over here, Detective Miller. The suspect is standing right by the banister.
Victoria: Marcus Miller! Thank goodness it's you! Tell these patrolmen to stand down! This is a domestic dispute!
Detective Miller stopped three feet from Victoria, looking down at her rumpled velvet gown with cold disgust.
Detective Miller: Keep your hands visible, Mrs. Vance. Do not attempt to move.
Victoria: Do not call me a suspect! Marcus assaulted me! He threatened my life in front of his child!
Detective Miller: Under Texas Penal Code Section 9.32, reasonable physical force is fully justified to defend a child from violent felony assault.
Victoria: Nobody was assaulted! The boy tripped over his own shoes on the terrace!
Detective Miller: We have the 4K security footage from your ceiling dome, Victoria. We watched you push that child.
Victoria's jaw fell slack, her eyes darting between the armed officers as terror locked her throat.
Victoria: You... You watched the video already?!
Detective Miller: The live feed was routed directly to our dispatch center fifteen minutes ago, ma'am.
Detective Miller unclipped a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from his tactical belt, stepping forward with practiced authority.
Detective Miller: Victoria Vance, you are under arrest for attempted capital murder of a minor, aggravated child endangerment, and corporate wire fraud.
Victoria shrieked, stumbling backward toward the library doors as the officers moved in.
Her screams bounced off the high ceiling, but the cold click of steel ratchets drowned out every word she had left.
Victoria: You cannot do this to me! I am Victoria Vance!
Detective Miller: You have the right to remain silent, Victoria. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court.
Marcus pulled Toby close, turning him away from the pathetic sight of the fallen socialite.
Marcus: It's over, Toby. She will never enter this house again.