I gripped the edge of the console table.
“Dad, will that ruin him?”
“No,” he said. “Julian ruined himself when he built a tower on borrowed names.”
The words landed heavily between us.
Then my father added, “I am also attending the gala.”
My breath caught.
“You’re going there?”
“I am already five minutes away.”
Evelyn’s eyes flicked to mine.
“Arthur,” she warned softly, “remember the objective.”
“The objective,” my father said, “is clarity.”
Then the call ended.
Evelyn sighed.
For the first time, I saw something almost like concern on her face.
“What?” I asked.
She looked toward the door.
“Your father has many virtues, Miss Vance. Subtlety has never been one of them.”
Across the city, the Apex Gala was reaching its brightest hour.
Julian stood near the stage with Chloe’s hand tucked possessively around his arm. Cameras flashed. Reporters murmured. Businessmen approached him with smiles that were just warm enough to be useful.
