As the vase broke, the older woman cheered and gave her grandson a thumbs-up. Their cruelty shocked me. My pulse suddenly raced with anger.
"My Dane is brave!"
"That is how it should be. If someone bullies you, fight back!"
Yvonne stood up and glared down at me with a proud, scornful look.
"Now you see you are wrong. I will teach you a lesson for breaking the rules and striking my son."
I rose slowly from the floor and looked at them all.
My voice stayed calm and steady as I told him, "This is breaking into private property, intentional injury and deliberate damage to property."
"You'd better think carefully about the way you will explain this when the police arrive."
When I named the crimes, Marcus, who had been silent until then, suddenly spoke.
“I really gave you a lot of face, but it looks like you still haven’t learned your place,” he said, voice low and threatening.
Mrs. Eden stepped forward and lifted her hand toward me.
“You little bitch, you really don’t know when to stop!” she shouted.
“I heard you and Marcus are from the same company. You’re so young and living in such a big house. What are you up to behind closed doors?”
“Someone must be keeping you. Didn’t some older man buy you this house?”
I grabbed her wrist and swung it hard. Just then, Yvonne had been pulling me. I didn’t want any of them to touch me again. Marcus’ mother immediately staggered and nearly fell from the force of my throw.
Her face went red with fury.
“You fucking bitch! I knew it! She dared to attack me!” she screamed.
“Tear it down! Tear it down right now! I wouldn’t live in this cursed house even if you gave it to me!”
She grabbed the ashtray from the coffee table and slammed it to the floor. The little boy shrieked with excitement, grabbed a small stool and began smashing things around him. Marcus climbed onto the sofa and ripped a framed antique painting off the wall.
I spoke in a cold voice, “That painting is Pablo Picasso’s original. It was sold at auction two years ago. It’s worth thirty million. You should be very careful.”
Marcus froze with the painting in his hands. However, his mother only laughed louder.
“Ha! Who are you trying to fool? Thirty million? That’s phantom money!” she shouted.
“You don’t even know what thirty million is, yet you’re bragging!”
Marcus’s face showed he believed her. With a final shove, the prized painting fell as its frame broke. The little boy jumped on the canvas, stomping it into pieces. Within minutes, the painting was destroyed.
Yvonne did not join the smashing. Instead, she slipped into my parents’ bedroom while everyone else was distracted. When she came back out, her hands were full of my mother’s jewelry. Her eyes were wet with greedy excitement.
I was about to rush at her when a firm voice came from the doorway and several police officers hurried in.
“Who called the police?” one of them demanded.
