Two days later, the atmosphere in the house shifted. Mr. Sterling was coming.
Mr. Sterling was not just a butler. He was the executor of the Vargas Family Trust, the eyes and ears of the board, and a man who terrified Hayes more than his own father had.
Eliana prepared the living room. She went to the safe in the basement and brought out a long, rectangular box. From it, she removed a scroll.
It was a painting. A classic Chinese ink wash painting, depicting a lonely mountain peak shrouded in mist. It was attributed to a master from the Song Dynasty. It was a registered gift from the Santos Matriarch to the Vargas family upon the wedding-a symbol of the alliance so valuable it was listed on the family's insurance as a separate entity.
Eliana hung it on the main wall, replacing the photo of Leo eating spaghetti.
Felicity came in with Leo just as Eliana was adjusting the wire.
"What is that dreary thing?" Felicity asked, wrinkling her nose. "It's so... gray."
"It's history," Eliana said. "It's worth twelve million dollars."
Felicity scoffed. "For a piece of paper? Ridiculous."
Leo ran into the room. He was holding a juice box. Grape juice. He was squeezing it, making the purple liquid bubble at the straw.
Eliana sat down on the sofa. She opened a book, but she didn't read. She watched Leo.
Leo wandered toward the painting.
Eliana stood up. "Leo, be careful. That is very expensive."
She made sure her voice lacked authority. She made sure it sounded like a challenge.
Felicity rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop hovering. He's just looking."
Eliana took a step forward, then stopped. "It belongs to the Santos family, really. If anything happened to it... Hayes would be in a lot of trouble."
Felicity heard the name 'Hayes' and bristled. She looked at Leo.
"Go on, Leo," Felicity said. "Look at the fancy paper. See if it's special."
Leo grinned. He ran toward the wall. He squeezed the juice box with both hands.
A jet of purple liquid arched through the air.
It splattered across the delicate rice paper. The mist on the mountain turned a violent, sugary violet. The ink ran. The paper soaked it up instantly, warping and buckling.
"Oh no!" Eliana gasped. She brought her hands to her mouth.
Leo laughed. "It looks better now! It has color!"
Felicity giggled. "See? He's an artist."
The heavy oak doors of the living room opened.
Mr. Sterling stood there. He was a tall man with silver hair and a posture like a steel rod. Behind him stood two lawyers in gray suits.
Sterling looked at the wall.
His face did not move, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
He walked over to the painting. He inspected the purple stain. He turned to look at Felicity.
"Mrs. Vargas," Sterling said, addressing Eliana but looking at Felicity. "What has happened?"
Eliana lowered her head. "I tried to stop him, Mr. Sterling. But Felicity said..."
Sterling turned his gaze to Felicity. It was a gaze that could peel paint.
"Ms. Branch," Sterling said.
Felicity smiled nervously. "Hi, Sterling. It's just a little accident. Leo spilled some juice. It's just an old paper, we can wipe it off."
Sterling's voice was like grinding stones. "That 'old paper' is a national treasure on loan from the Santos collection. It is valued at twelve million dollars. And it is uninsured against acts of gross negligence."
Felicity's smile vanished. "Twelve... million?"
Sterling took out his phone. "I am notifying the board. This comes out of Hayes's personal equity."
"But..." Felicity stammered. "That's Hayes's money!"
Sterling looked at Leo, who was sucking on the empty juice box.
"The boy has destroyed the equivalent of the quarterly dividend," Sterling said. "Until the debt is repaid, all discretionary accounts linked to Hayes Vargas are frozen. The credit cards, the expense accounts, the liquid assets. Everything."
"What?" Felicity shrieked. "You can't do that! We have expenses!"
Sterling ignored her. He turned to the lawyers. "Document the damage. Remove the artifact."
Eliana stood in the corner. She watched Sterling berate Felicity. She watched Felicity crumble into a sobbing mess on the sofa.
She felt a tiny, cold flame of satisfaction in her gut.
"Oh, dear," Eliana said, her voice dripping with fake concern. "This is going to be very bad for Hayes."
