“Chloe,” Victoria said, “you’ve involved your father. That was unwise. Ask him about the warehouse on Griffin Street. Ask him about the man who died without a name.

Ask him why your beautiful penthouse was transferred into your name one month after that fire. You think that property is your inheritance, little bride?

No. It’s hush money.”

The video ended.

Chloe turned slowly to Robert. “Dad. Is my penthouse connected to a dead man?”

Robert’s face collapsed. In the terrible silence, my phone rang. It was Lewis.