I walked down the quiet, carpeted hallway of the administrative wing, heading toward the service entrance behind the Pearl Room kitchens.

“And make sure the lobster is fresh,” Vivian Mercer’s voice boomed through the earpiece. “My son is a major investor here, you know. We expect proper service.”

“Of course, Mrs. Mercer,” Thomas said politely.

I reached the service vestibule, where the smell of garlic, butter, and fresh seafood filled the warm air.

Two junior servers were waiting by the food elevator, holding silver trays.

They both stood up straight the moment they saw me, their faces tightening with respect.

I held up a finger to my lips, signaling them to remain quiet.

Through my earpiece, I heard Vivian sigh loudly.

“Honestly, Claire, the staff here is so slow today,” Vivian said. “I suppose they hire just about anyone these days. Just like Daniel did.”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Claire scoffed. “If Daniel hadn’t brought that charity case into our family, we wouldn’t have to look at her miserable face every holiday.”