Ethan Vance stood in the high archway of the foyer, holding his leather briefcase in his right hand. He was dressed in a tailored burgundy velvet suit, fresh from high-stakes legal negotiations in the city. The noise of the double doors slamming had drawn two security guards from the front porch, who stood just behind him. Ethan took three fast steps into the bright room under the US flag, his brow furrowed in utter confusion as he took in the scene before him: his wife holding her red cheek, his maid cradling his crying son, and an atmosphere thick with terror.
Victoria reacted instantly, changing her expression from furious rage to desperate tears in a fraction of a second. She squeezed her eyes shut, let out a loud dramatic sob, and rushed toward Ethan, throwing her arms around his burgundy sleeve. She pointed a sharp, diamond-ringed finger back at Sarah, her voice trembling with expertly crafted lies designed to shield herself from suspicion. She knew how much Ethan valued order, and she intended to use his authority to destroy the only witness to her unthinkable act of violence.
Victoria: Ethan! She assaulted me! The maid has lost her mind!
Sarah: Sir! Do not listen to her lies! Look at your baby!
Victoria: She slapped me across the face for no reason, Ethan!
Sarah: Sir! Look at his hand! She savagely bit him and made him bleed!
Ethan stopped in his tracks, his body freezing as Sarah's words echoed off the white walls. He looked down at Victoria, whose eyes flinched slightly under his sudden intense gaze. Then he stepped away from her grasp and walked rapidly toward Sarah. Sarah held Leo out gently, pulling back the soft white cloth of her apron to reveal the baby's tiny, bruised hand. Deep red teeth marks were clearly indented into the top of his small palm, and the bead of blood was still visible against his pale skin.
Ethan lowered his briefcase to the floor. The air in the room seemed to drop by twenty degrees as he stared at his son's wound. He reached out with a trembling finger, hovering just above Leo's skin without touching it, terrified of causing the child more pain. The infant whined softly, lifting his tear-stained face toward his father. Ethan's breath came out in sharp, heavy ragged gasps. The confusion on his face burned away in an instant, replaced by a dark, dangerous fury that made even the guards by the door step back in silence.
Ethan: Did... did a dog do this?
Sarah: No, Mr. Vance. I walked in and saw her with my own eyes.
Victoria: She is lying! The baby scratched himself on the couch!
Sarah: Look at the bite mark, sir! Those are human teeth!
Ethan turned slowly around to face his new wife. Victoria was backed against the edge of the glass coffee table, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the sheer hatred shining in Ethan's eyes. The glossy act she had maintained for months was crumbling rapidly under the weight of physical evidence. Ethan took four slow, heavy steps toward her, his fists clenched tight at his sides as his burgundy suit pulled tight across his broad shoulders. He looked at her emerald-green diamond dress, then at her mouth, realizing the horrifying truth of what had transpired.