Beatrice: You have no right to be here!
Claire: Keep your voice down. The guests in the ballroom can hear you.
Beatrice: Let them hear! I want everyone in this mansion to know exactly what you are.
Claire slowly smoothed the fabric of her white silk suit. She stood her ground in the grand hall.
Claire: I am Julian's wife. I belong at this charity gala just as much as you do.
Beatrice: You belong in the gutter. You only married my son for the family trust fund.
Claire: That is a lie, and you know it. I have never asked Julian for a single dollar.
Beatrice: Please. I see the way you look at the estate. You want the inheritance all to yourself.
Claire: I handle the corporate accounts because Julian doesn't know how. I am trying to save this family from bankruptcy.
Beatrice: How dare you speak about my family that way!
Claire: It is the truth. The life insurance payout from your late husband is almost gone. You spend it on private jets and luxury cars.
Beatrice: Shut your mouth right now.
Claire: Someone has to tell you the truth. If you don't stop the spending, this entire estate will go into foreclosure.
Beatrice: You arrogant, gold-digging rat. You think you can come into my house and give me orders?
Claire: It is my house too. My name is on the mortgage.
Beatrice: We will see about that. My son is going to divorce you and leave you with nothing.
Claire: Julian won't do that. He knows exactly what I do for this family.
Beatrice: Julian does what I tell him to do. He always has.
Heavy footsteps echoed on the marble staircase. Claire looked up, expecting her husband to defend her.