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Maria flashed a too-bright smile as she settled herself beside Beatrice on the plush sofa. Anne sat on the other side, her arms crossed, glaring daggers. Allen leaned against the doorframe, watching the exchange, his face showing nothing but disgust. “So, Beatrice,” Maria began, her tone sweet and syrupy. “I’ve been meaning to ask… your family, the Romanovs, they must be incredibly well off, aren’t they?” Beatrice, ever the picture of kindness, smiled politely, though she could feel the tension building in the room. “We do alright,” she replied modestly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Maria’s obvious fishing. “Alright?” Maria laughed, waving her hand as if Beatrice had told a joke. “Don’t be so humble, dear! I mean, the way you helped me at the store—so generous! Most people wou
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