Dinner was served in a dining room that could have doubled as a small ballroom, with a table that seated twelve but had been set for three at one end, creating an intimate space that somehow felt more threatening than the formal distance. The meal was a parade of courses that probably required teams of chefs and ingredients flown in from multiple continents.
“So, Isabella,” Victoria said as the soup course was cleared, “I’ve been curious about your family’s financial arrangements. It must be quite an adjustment, going from scholarship assistance to your current... circumstances.”
Here it was—the real reason for tonight’s invitation. Victoria wanted to probe my background, looking for inconsistencies or vulnerabilities she could exploit.
“It’s been an interesting transition,” I said care
