His eyes looked dazzled.
“Fairholme?” he breathed. She saw the joy in his wrinkled face. Then he blinked, looking troubled. “But Darius—”
“I’ll handle him.” Wrapping her arms around her father’s thin shoulders, she kissed the wispy top of his head. Her father’s last days would be happy ones, she vowed. He would die in the home that he’d adored, where he’d once lived with his beloved wife and raised his child, surrounded by comfort and love.
Letty would take care of him as he’d once taken care of her.
And, she thought grimly, she’d also take care of Darius.
She’d loved her husband with all her heart. Now she saw that all the sacrifices she’d made, all of her trust, had been for nothing. For an illusion. Darius didn’t love her. He would never love her.
It was his final betrayal. And for this, she would never forgive him.
Darius walked into his office near Battery Park with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. He was late but had an excellent reason. He’d stopped at his favorite jeweler’s on Fifth Avenue to buy a push present for his wife.
He’d read about push presents in a parenthood article. It was a gift that men gave the mothers of their children after labor and delivery, in celebration and appreciation of all their hours of pain and hard work. Since Letty’s due date was so close, Darius had known he had no time to lose. He’d found the perfect gift—exquisite emerald earrings, surrounded by diamonds, set in gold, almost as beautiful as her hazel eyes. They’d even once belonged to a queen of France. With Letty’s love of history, he knew she’d get a kick out of that, and he could hardly wait to give them to her. And even more amazing: when he did, their son would be real at last, and in their arms.
Darius realized he was whistling the same hokey lullaby that his wife had sung in the shower that morning to their unborn baby.
He loved Letty’s voice.
He loved their home.
And he loved that he’d been able to blow off half a morning of work in order to get her a gift. It was supposedly one of the perks of being a boss, but at his last company, he’d been too grimly driven to do anything but grind out work. So he could build his fortune. So he could be worth something.
But even after he’d succeeded, even when he’d finally been rich beyond imagination, he’d been unhappy. He realized that now. He’d spent ten years doing nothing but work, and when he’d sold his company he’d felt lost. Money hadn’t fulfilled him quite as much as he’d thought it would.
But now, everything had changed. Both in his work and his life.
He was building a new company. A free website would teach software coding, math and science skills, so others could have the opportunities he’d had, to get good jobs or perhaps even start their own tech companies someday.
His goal wasn’t to build a fortune. He already had more than he could spend in a lifetime. When he’d paid out billions of dollars to Howard Spencer’s victims, he hadn’t even missed it.
Letty was teaching him—reminding him?—how a good life was lived.
Throughout their marriage, as Fairholme had every day become more beautiful, so had his pregnant wife. She was huge now, and she glowed. Every day she told him how much she loved him. He could feel it, her love for him, warming him like a fire in winter.
There was only one flaw.
One secret he was keeping.
And he knew it might ruin everything.
Darius’s steps slowed as he crossed through the open office with the exposed brick walls.
Letty’s father was dying. And Darius didn’t know how to tell her.
He hadn’t wanted to believe it was true at first. For weeks, he’d insisted it was all an elaborate con. “Call me when he’s dead,” he’d told his investigator half-seriously.
Then he’d gotten a message from Howard Spencer himself, saying he was in the hospital. Even then, for a few days, Darius had told himself it was a lie. Until his investigator had combed through the hospital records and confirmed it was true. Darius had no choice but to face it.
Now he had to tell Letty.
But how? How could he explain to her all his weeks of silence, when he’d known her father was dying in a Brooklyn hospital?
Darius still believed he’d done the right thing. He and Letty had made a deal at the start of their marriage: no contact with her father. There hadn’t been any fine print or “get out of jail free” card if the man decided to die. All Darius had done was uphold their deal. He had nothing to feel guilty about. He hadn’t just paid Spencer’s debts, but also his living expenses and even his medical bills. He’d practically acted like a saint.
Somehow, he didn’t think Letty would see it that way.
Darius dreaded her reaction. He’d halfheartedly started to tell her last night, but stopped, telling himself he didn’t want to risk raising her blood pressure when she was so close to delivery. He didn’t want to risk her health, or the baby’s.
After the baby’s born, he promised himself firmly. Once he knew both mother and baby were safe and sound.
She would be angry at first, he knew. But after she’d had some time to think it over, she’d realize that he’d only been trying to protect her. And it was in her nature to forgive. She had no choice. She loved him.
Feeling calmer, he walked past his executive assistant’s desk toward his private office. “Good morning, Mildred.”
Lifting her eyebrows, she greeted him with “Your wife is on the line.”
“My wife?” A smile lifted unbidden to his face, as it always did when he thought of Letty.
“She said you weren’t answering your cell.”
Instinctively, Darius put his hand to his trouser pocket. It was empty. He must have left it in the car.
“Mrs. Kyrillos sounds pretty stressed.” His executive assistant, usually stern and no-nonsense, gave him a rare smile. “She said it’s urgent.”
Letty never called him at work. His smile changed to a dazed grin. There could be only one reason she’d call now, so close to her due date!
“I’ll take it in my office,” he said joyfully and rushed inside, shutting the door behind him. He snatched up the phone. “Letty? Is it the baby? Are you in labor?”
His wife’s voice sounded strangely flat. “No.”
“Mildred said it was urgent—”
“It is urgent. I’m leaving you. I’m filing for divorce.”
For a long moment he just gripped the phone, that foolish grin still on his face, as he tried to comprehend her words. Then the smile fell away.
“What are you talking about? Is this some kind of joke?”
“No.”
He took a deep breath. “I’ve read about pregnancy hormones…”
Anger suddenly swelled from the other end of the line.
“Pregnancy hormones? Pregnancy hormones? I’m divorcing you because you lied to me. You’ve been lying for months! My father is dying and you never told me!”
Darius’s heart was suddenly in his throat.
“How did you find out?” he whispered.
“Mrs. Pollifax couldn’t understand