The following afternoon, Evelyn found herself sitting across from Victoria Blackwood at the Whispering Rose Tea Room, an exclusive sanctuary on the top floor of the prestigious Elysium Atrium. Soft golden light filtered through delicate lace curtains, casting a warm glow over plush velvet chairs and polished mahogany tables adorned with fresh white roses. The gentle melody of a live harpist floated through the air, accompanied by the fragrant scent of premium loose-leaf teas and freshly baked scones.
Victoria poured tea with graceful precision, her elegant cream blouse and pearls making her look every bit the refined matriarch of the Blackwood family.
“I’m so glad you could join me, Evelyn,” Victoria said warmly, sliding a delicate porcelain cup toward her. “I’ve been looking forward to
