Victora’s house was at the edge of the city, but to call it a house was a bit of an understatement. Estate was more fitting of the tree-lined entrance and the massive mansion set behind a circular driveway. An uplit fountain shot water into the air from the middle of the drive, and I was fairly sure I caught sight of topiary shrubs off to the right of the house. A formal manor house, then. I was going to enjoy this.
Inside, the front hall was lit with an enormous chandelier, and its reflection gleamed from polished marble floors and the ornate wooden banister of a curved staircase. The house wasn’t old, but it paid tribute to older homes without appearing to be a knock-off. It wasn’t my taste, but it was beautiful.
“This way to the library, Ms. Baxter,” Victora said as he pointed to the
