soft chandelier light, her eyes red and heavy. She sat silently, staring down at her untouched plate of wagyu beef and truffle risotto, her hands trembling in her lap.
"Eat in the bathroom," Victoria said, her tone smooth, conversational, yet laced with sharp, deliberate malice. "Consider it your contribution to tonight's dinner."
Clara swallowed hard, her chest heaving as tears spilled over her eyelashes. Across the table, her husband, Julian, and his sister, Beatrice, pretended not to hear, quietly sipping their vintage wine.
"Enjoy the rest of your dinner," Clara whispered, her voice breaking.
She picked up her white leather handbag from the table, stood up with as much dignity as she could muster, and walked away down the aisle between the plush red velvet booths.
Victoria leaned back, crossing her arms over her emerald silk top, a complacent, triumphant smile spreading across her face as she watched Clara vanish toward the foyer.
Chapter 2: The Black Leather Ledger
For five minutes, Victoria basked in her small victory. She gestured to the waiter for another glass