Clara: Ethan, the guests are arriving downstairs!
Ethan Sterling: Let them wait, Clara. The board members know I run this company on my time.
Clara: Your father’s business partners are here to see the new estate renovation.
Ethan Sterling: They will see it when I walk down those stairs.
Ethan adjusted his silk bow tie in the tall antique mirror.
Clara: Where is Leo? He should be dressed by now.
Ethan Sterling: He’s probably upstairs with the new nanny or playing in his room.
Clara: I told Elena to keep an eye on him during the charity auction setup.
Ethan Sterling: That girl is lazy. I don't know why my sister recommended her.
Clara: She's quiet, Ethan. She works hard and doesn't complain about the late hours.
Ethan Sterling: Quiet doesn't mean competent. Look at the dust on this banister.
Ethan wiped his gloved thumb along the dark mahogany wood, holding it up in disgust.
Clara: It’s a seven-bedroom mansion, Ethan. Give her a break.
Ethan Sterling: I pay her three thousand dollars a month to keep this house spotless. I expect perfection.
Clara: You expect a machine, not a human being.
Ethan Sterling: I built a billion-dollar empire by expecting perfection from everyone around me.
Clara: Well, lower your standards for tonight. The mayor is standing near the fountain.
Downstairs, the ambient chatter of high-society guests hummed through the vaulted hallways.
Guest 1: Have you seen the new Sterling artwork upstairs?
Guest 2: I heard Ethan spent two million on a historical portrait last week.
Guest 1: He has more money than sense since taking over his father's trust fund.
Guest 2: Careful... his wife is right above us on the landing.
Clara stepped back toward the master bedroom, her diamond necklace sparkling under the hallway lights.
Clara: Leo! Leo, sweetheart, come out now!
There was no response from the nursery down the hall.
Clara: Ethan... he's not in his room.
Ethan Sterling: He’s probably hiding in the game room again.
Clara: I checked the game room. His shoes are still by the door, but he's gone.
Ethan frowned, turning away from the mirror with a look of annoyance.
Ethan Sterling: Did you check the backyard pool area?
Clara: The security gates are locked from the inside. He couldn't have gone out there.
Ethan Sterling: Where is that maid? Elena!
His voice boomed down the wide residential corridor, bouncing off the framed portraits of his ancestors.
Ethan Sterling: Elena! Get up here right now!
A muffled sound came from the west wing gallery, near the heavy oil paintings.
Clara: Did you hear that?
Ethan Sterling: It sounded like something scraping against the floorboards.
Clara: Hurry, Ethan! What if somebody got into the house?
Ethan picked up a heavy silver letter opener from the side table and stepped fast down the carpeted hall.
Ethan Sterling: Stay behind me, Clara.
They rounded the corner into the gallery, expecting an intruder or a broken window.
Instead, they saw Elena standing against the wall, straining under the weight of a huge canvas.
Clara: What is she doing to your father's portrait?
Ethan Sterling: She’s touching the museum piece!