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The staff member opens the study door and steps aside.

Alester sits behind his desk, dressed in a dark waistcoat and pale shirt, his sleeves rolled with deliberate care. There are papers in front of him, a tablet to his left, and his phone lying face up beside a crystal glass of water. Petra stands near the window with her own tablet in hand, her posture straight, her expression composed.

When she sees me, something flickers in her eyes.

Not surprise. Warning.

Alester looks up. “Dr. Price,” he says. “I would say this is unexpected, but I try not to lie before lunch.”

I step into the room. The door closes behind me with a soft, final sound.

“You need to pull her out of the press.”

Alester leans back in his chair, regarding me with faint amusement. “Good afternoon to you too.”

“This is not a joke.”

“I rarely joke.”

“No, you announce young women in front of rooms full of people and then act surprised when they become headlines.”

Petra’s gaze drops to her tablet.

Alester’s smile doesn’t move, but something behind his eyes sharpens. “I introduced the mother of my child,” he says.

“You exposed her.”

“I acknowledged her position.”

“You stood her in front of investors, relatives, board members, and half a dozen people who leak information for sport. Her face is everywhere now. Her university is being named. People are posting her photos, her age, pieces of her schedule. Strangers are discussing her body like it’s public property.”

“She entered into a private fertility arrangement with a public man,” Alester says calmly. “Privacy was always going to be complicated.”

“Complicated is one thing. You made it impossible.”

His fingers rest lightly on the arm of his chair. He watches me the way he watches everything: with patience that feels almost scientific. “You seem very angry on Miss Hanes’ behalf.”

“She is pregnant.”

“Yes.”

“She is under stress.”

“Yes.”

“And you caused it.”

Petra’s eyes lift.

For the first time, Alester’s expression loses its lazy amusement. “Careful, Dalton.”

“No. You need to hear this clearly. Whatever contract she signed, whatever arrangement you made with her, she did not sign up to be torn apart by gossip sites because you wanted to make a public point.”

“A public point?” he repeats softly.

“That you have an heir. That your family can stop circling. That the trust, the board, whoever the hell is pressuring you, can back off because you have produced exactly what they wanted from you.”

Silence settles over the study. The fire burns low in the hearth, the only sound in the room for several seconds.