Victoria didn’t turn her head.

She took a tiny sip of water and let out a light, careless laugh.

“She’s just my husband’s charity project, really,” Victoria told the table.

“Walter took her in when she was seven, but she lives in army barracks now.

She has no part in our business affairs.”

A hush fell over the long mahogany table.

Two of the catering staff stopped serving the steak plates and backed toward the kitchen doors.

I stepped out of the dark hallway and walked straight to the empty chair at the foot of the table.