
My husband spent most of the year overseas managing his family's criminal business. After 11 months apart, I ran into one of his trusted lieutenants at a private underworld banquet held alongside the Highcrest Underground Auction.
He greeted me with a grin. "Ma'am, congratulations on the baby girl."
My mind went blank.
He didn't notice anything was wrong and continued, "I wouldn't miss the baby's christening this weekend."
As he spoke, he pulled out an invitation stamped in gold.
"Boss really put thought into this invitation. You can tell how much he cares about you."
I quietly memorized the address of St. Maren's Church on Valedoro Isle, forced a smile, and handed his phone back.
"Thank you. See you this weekend."
That weekend, I flew to the old Baroque church on Valedoro Isle.
Flowers covered the stone steps. Women in couture gowns chatted in small groups as the scent of gardenias filled the air, while armed bodyguards patrolled the perimeter.
A striking woman with honey-toned skin stood at the entrance holding a baby. Her white lace gown trailed along the ground, a pearl necklace glowed at her throat, and two men in black suits remained close behind her.
She smiled at me. "You're one of Andrea's friends, right? Please come in. The ceremony is about to begin."

