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“Good evening.” Rafael came onto the dais, where the band had been playing, bringing Alexandra with him. “We’ve been off the radar lately and thought we’d host a party to let you know we’re not hiding from the law. We’ve been keeping some happy news to ourselves, but we’re ready to share.”

Rafael looked at his wife with an expression that was so smitten Spiro was a little embarrassed for him. How could Rafael let his guard down that much?

“We adopted a baby girl.” Alexandra pressed closer to her husband’s side, her smile radiant. “Eight weeks ago. She’s ten weeks now and utterly perfect.”

“Oh.” The wistful noise from Alia was drowned out by a collective sigh of indulgence from the crowd, accompanied by a round of applause. Someone called, “Happy for you!” and glasses were raised in a toast.

As people began milling toward the couple to shake their hands, Spiro watched Alia take a big gulp of champagne. Were her lashes wet? Her eyes shiny?

“Are you all right?”

“Of course.” She pressed a smile onto her lips, but it was very forced. “Will you introduce me to them? I’d like to congratulate them.”

They didn’t have to wait their turn. Rafael glimpsed Spiro and bore down on them, bringing his wife in tow.

“Spiro! Damn, it’s good to see you.” He shook Spiro’s hand with vigor.

“I’m happy to be here,” Spiro said dryly.

“And you have happy news of your own.” Alexandra introduced herself to Alia, kissing both her cheeks as though they were old friends.

“I couldn’t be more delighted for you,” Alia said with a creak of deep sincerity in her voice. She blinked her damp lashes. “What’s your daughter’s name? Is she your first?”

While Alia fawned over photos that Alexandra brought up on her phone, Rafael said to Spiro, “I’m relieved to see you. When I called your mother, your stepfather said you weren’t likely to make it. Or be yourself if you did.”

“Wishful thinking on his part.” Spiro met Rafael’s razor-sharp stare without flinching.

Rafael had an urbane sophistication to him now, but fifteen years ago, he’d been a scrappy underdog dealing with Lambros before Spiro had taken control of MSPM. Rafael knew that Lambros made rich people richer at the expense of those who couldn’t afford to lose. That’s why Lambros’s bid to oust Spiro had its supporters today.

“This was a surprise,” Rafael said with a flick of his glance toward Alia.

Alia was scanning Alexandra’s photos with close attention.

“My brother knew what I wanted and made it happen,” Spiro said circumspectly, recalling the story they were selling, then he redirected the conversation by saying, “I’m still catching up on what I’ve missed, though. I saw there was a proposal before the government to—”

“Oh, Alia, I’m so sorry. What did I say?” Alexandra grasped Alia’s wrist and shot a look to her husband that said, Help! Then one to Spiro that said, Forgive me.

Spiro’s pulse skidded. “Alia?” He took hold of her other arm as though she needed steadying.

“It’s fine. You didn’t say anything.” Alia forced a smile as she extracted herself from both of their touches and tucked her elbows protectively against her sides, hugging her arms across her stomach. Fresh tears stood in her eyes before she hid it by looking down. “I had a rough morning. You said nothing wrong, I promise.”

“Let’s go to the powder room,” Alexandra suggested.

“Stay with your guests,” Spiro said. “We only wanted to make a brief appearance. I’m still battling headaches. The noise is getting to me.” It wasn’t, but Alia was pale and looked pushed to the limits of her composure. What the hell had happened?

“Could Rafael get your number from Spiro for me?” Alexandra asked her. “I’d like to have lunch one day soon, if that’s all right?”

“Of course. I’d like that.” Alia forced a brave smile, but Spiro saw her throat flex as she swallowed back whatever thickness was clogging it.

“We’ll talk soon,” he promised Rafael as he sheltered Alia under his arm and guided her from the restaurant.

He waited until they were home and in the privacy of the bedroom to ask, “What did she say to you?”

“Nothing,” Alia insisted, contorting her arms behind her to try to reach her zipper.

“Let me.” He stepped behind her and swept her hair to the front of her shoulder, then lowered the zipper, trying to ignore the warm, enticing scent off her skin and the back of a sea-foam-colored strapless bra.

She shimmied the dress loose as she walked into the dressing room.