Seven-year-old Toby gripped his knees behind the towering velvet curtain in the foyer, his breath hitching as his small sneakers slipped against the cold Italian marble floor. Across the vast entryway of the family estate, the massive steel vault wheel squeaked with a terrifying, heavy metallic grind.

Toby: Please... don't hurt Grandpa!

Victoria's golden silk blouse shimmered beneath the crystal chandelier as she spun around, her sharp heels clicking aggressively against the stone floor. She stepped toward the trembling boy, her eyes narrowed with absolute malice.

Victoria: Be quiet, you ungrateful little brat! You didn't see anything.

Toby: You pushed him inside! He can't breathe in there!

Victoria: I told you to shut your mouth! If you say one word before your father signs those trust fund papers tonight, I'll lock you in the cellar next.

Toby: Dad is going to be home any second! He won't let you do this!

Victoria grabbed Toby by the collar of his blue button-down shirt and violently shoved him backward, knocking him hard onto the polished marble tiles. The sharp sound echoed through the cavernous foyer, leaving Toby crying softly as he held his bruised wrist.

Victoria: Stay on the floor where you belong! Your grandfather is old, senile, and out of his mind. He has no right controlling this estate anymore.

Toby: Grandpa built this whole house! He loves us!

Victoria: He is an obstacle, Toby. And by tomorrow morning, this mansion, the family company, and every single cent will finally belong to me.

A sudden click echoed from the heavy front entrance doors. A tall figure in a tailored navy suit strode through the doorway, his leather shoes stopping abruptly as his eyes fell upon his crying son sprawled across the floor.

Daniel: What in God's name is happening here?

Toby: Dad! Dad, help! Grandpa is locked in the vault!

Victoria's haughty smirk vanished instantly, replaced by a pale mask of dread as Daniel took three furious strides across the room toward the sealed steel door.