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“Spiro.” Daphne grasped her chest as though Spiro had thrust a knife into it. “Do you not remember Lambros, either? He’s been so worried about you.”

“I remember everything about him,” Spiro said through his teeth.

“Let’s not have a scene.” On the inside, Alia trembled like a leaf, but outwardly she projected the same assertive confidence she showed a tourist when they tried to overstay their reservation. “Would you step into the corridor, Kyrie Voulgaris, so we don’t have to call security?”

“How dare you,” Daphne threw outrage at her.

“Enough,” the doctor said sternly. “Spiro may have five minutes with his mother, then I want him to rest.”

“She stays.” Spiro’s glance snared like a barbed hook into Alia’s chest.

“Of course, glika mou.” Her knees were shaking, but Alia positioned herself next to the bed and found his arm with her clammy hand.

The doctor took Lambros with him as he left.

“Why do you want her here? She’s not your wife,” Daphne said, then asked with bewilderment, “Is she?”

After a long pause, Spiro drawled, “Apparently.”

“No,” Daphne huffed out. “Lambros said Khristos is causing trouble out of spite, the way he always does.”

“Khristos does not do that,” Spiro said.

“Perhaps you don’t remember. Lambros said that you can’t work until your memory returns so he’s been in touch with the board—”

“No.”

“Spiro.” Daphne patted his shin. “You’re not in your right mind. You’re forgetting that Lambros has done this before.”

“No.” He looked to Alia and said grittily, “Give me your phone.”

She was already removing it from her pocket because it was vibrating.

“It’s Khristos.” Thank God. She swiped and greeted his concerned expression with a big smile. “Perfect timing. Your mother is here and Spiro is awake.” She thrust the phone in front of Spiro’s glower.

“What the hell, Khristos?” Spiro demanded.

“My brother. I only have a minute,” Khristos said. “We’re between meetings. I’m so sorry I couldn’t stay with you.”

“Your lectures. I remember,” Spiro clipped out.

“I couldn’t put them off.” Khristos worked tirelessly on behalf of refugees. His presentations to world leaders had been in the works for years. To have pulled out at the last second would have set back all of the progress he’d made. “At least I was able to bring Alia to you. The proxy marriage is unorthodox, but I knew it was what you would want. Julian and I are thrilled to welcome her to our family.”

Spiro’s expression flickered through every shade of indignation and disbelief.

Dread settled heavily on Alia’s chest. He was gearing up to denounce her. What would she do with Yaya? Where would they go?

“Don’t be stubborn while you recover,” Khristos continued in a rush. “Let her take care of you. I’ll be home in a week. The board has promised to hold off making any decisions around a new CEO until the Annual General Meeting.”

“Let me speak to him.” Daphne snatched the phone from Alia’s hand. “Khristos!”

“I’m being called into my meeting, Mother. I hope you’ve been making Alia feel welcome. I’ll call you in a few hours.” Khristos hung up and Daphne tsked in annoyance.

“I have a headache.” Spiro closed his eyes, mouth tense. “Come back later, Mother. You stay,” he told Alia.

Daphne wavered, then said, “We’ll see you after dinner, then.” She left another smudge on his cheek and departed.

As the door drifted closed, Spiro snapped his eyes open.