The invitation arrived in a black envelope.
No sender’s name.
Just embossed gold lettering:
Blackwood Foundation Annual Charity Gala
Attendance Mandatory – For Appearances Matter
Adrian stared at it for a long time before setting it down on his desk.
“They’re bold,” he muttered.
“They?” I asked.
He didn’t answer immediately.
“The board,” he said finally. “And whoever is whispering behind them.”
Ever since the pregnancy announcement, subtle resistance had begun forming within his empire. Investors cautious. Directors curious. Rivals circling.
And Clara had vanished—too quietly.
“Do we have to go?” I asked.
His gaze lifted to mine.
“Yes.”
One word. Firm.
“Because if we don’t, it looks like weakness.”
“Exactly.”
I pressed a hand to my stomach unconsciously.
Eight weeks.
St
