Lord Raymond tapped his long silver pen against the dark wooden table. The sharp sound echoed in the quiet air. His cold gray eyes stayed locked on Evelyn while a soft breeze blew across the open terrace.

"You say your father built real beauty, young lady," Lord Raymond said. His voice was flat and very stern. "Words are cheap in the world of rich men. Talk does not build grand houses. I want to see your true skill right now."

Evelyn did not flinch or back away. She took one strong step forward and looked straight into his old eyes. "What is your challenge, Lord Raymond?"

Lord Raymond turned around...