Uncle Richard: Brandon, have you completely lost your mind?!
Aunt Martha: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!
Brandon stood by the table, touching his reddened cheek where Chloe's hand had landed. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide as he stared at the gravy dripping onto the polished floor.
Brandon: She crossed the line, Aunt Martha!
Aunt Martha: She is your late brother's widow! You don't dump food over a woman's head!
Brandon: She's trying to steal my share of the family trust fund!
Claire: That trust fund belongs to the estate, Brandon! Your father made that clear in the original will!
Brandon: Dad was old and sick when he signed those papers! Chloe manipulated him!
Uncle Richard: That is a serious allegation, nephew. Do you have any proof?
Brandon: I don't need proof! I know how she operates!
Out in the main foyer, Chloe pulled a linen napkin from her purse and wiped the thick sauce from her brow. Her hands were steady, but her eyes were sharp as flint.
Chloe: He thinks a little gravy is going to intimidate me.
Butler: Mrs. Montgomery, shall I fetch a warm towel for your hair?
Chloe: No, Thomas. Bring me my laptop from the study.
Butler: Right away, ma'am.
Chloe walked over to the tall mirror near the entryway, looking at her reflection. Gravy stained her designer dress, but she didn't care about the clothes. She cared about the truth.
Claire: Chloe! Oh honey, I am so sorry!
Claire ran into the foyer, her face pale with worry as she reached out to hold Chloe's arms.
Claire: Brandon is out of control. He's been drinking since eleven this morning.
Chloe: I don't care if he's drunk or sober, Claire.
Claire: Please don't call the police. It will ruin the family business reputation!
Chloe: The police? No, I'm not calling the police for a food fight.
Claire: Then what are you going to do?
Chloe: I'm going to finish what your brother started three years ago.
Claire: What do you mean?
Chloe: Brandon thinks he's the sole heir to Montgomery Logistics. He forgot about the audit report.
Claire: The financial audit? The one from the merger?
Chloe: The very same one.
Thomas returned, holding a sleek black laptop and handing it to Chloe with a respectful bow.
Butler: Here is your computer, ma'am.
Chloe: Thank you, Thomas. Tell the driver to pull the car around to the front.
Claire: Chloe, please, let's talk about this inside!
Chloe: There's nothing left to talk about, Claire. Your brother threw the first punch, but I'm going to throw the last one.
Brandon walked into the foyer, holding an ice pack against his swollen cheek, a smug sneer on his face.
Brandon: Running away, Chloe? Going back to your little apartment?
Chloe: I'm going to my lawyer's office, Brandon.
Brandon: Go ahead! Call every lawyer in the city! You don't have a dime to fight me in court!
Chloe: I don't need a dime, Brandon. I have your bank records.
Brandon's sneer instantly vanished, his grip tightening around the ice pack.
Brandon: What did you just say?
Chloe: Enjoy your lunch, Brandon. It's the last expensive meal you'll be having for a very long time.