Two Weeks in Geneva: Book Three by Lydia Rowan

Chapter One
     
    Time had stopped, and along with it, Alexander’s heart.
    He felt the weight of four expectant gazes heavy upon him, and the air thickened with anticipation, almost as if a living, tangible thing prowled the room, ready to strike at an instant’s notice or fade into the background, a mere blip soon to be forgotten.
    And the result hinged solely on Alexander’s response. It was he and he alone who would determine whether the beast struck or was vanquished, and that weight, the knowledge of what he had to do, crushed him.
    He looked at his mother, her expression inscrutable as always, not like it mattered. Mother, if not the mastermind of this impromptu family visit, had had a hand, a strong hand, in it. His father didn’t have the guile to conceive such an idea, and even if he did, he wouldn’t dare participate without approval. Taking such drastic action alone might upset Mother, and an upset Mother just wouldn’t do. No matter how much his eldest son had at stake.
    Alexander looked at the man, so dignified, so passive, and anger swelled in his chest as the enormity of this event took full form in his mind.
    He didn’t even bother to look at Magda. His wife. Legally anyway. Even the thought of that word in relation to her made him nauseous. He knew she’d have that cold, self-congratulatory smile that so often graced her face, natural, he supposed, given the hubris and vanity that were her fundamental traits. He couldn’t fathom what had made her come here. Well, he did have an idea, but she couldn’t possibly believe that showing up here, disrespecting his home, his family, would get her what she wanted. But then, he was underestimating Magda, and not for the first time. Though his mother had undoubtedly hatched this ambush, Magda, who had an admirable talent for seeing only what she chose to, probably even believed that this little display had ensured they could go back to pretending to be the perfect couple they had never been.
    The tension in the air thickened even more when Magda raised a hand as if to touch Alexander. He didn’t speak, just looked at her, and the unadulterated rage he knew was flowing from his gaze must have made her think twice. He wouldn’t hit her; it wasn’t his style, but he couldn’t fathom ever letting her touch him again. And more importantly, he had to harness this rage to ensure that appropriate punishment would be meted out and Magda would get her just desserts. Or rather, she wouldn’t get his, anything of his, even those items that had been negotiated for in the prenuptial agreement. He hoped Magda had kept her supply of rich friends. She was going to need them.
    His heart thrummed and he changed focus, needing to get a hold of his temper at least until he got them out of here. Lily held Ethan, who seemed totally unaffected by this display, but her gaze was cool, assessing; she looked like she was waiting to decide how to react, and Alexander appreciated the benefit of the doubt.
    No more stalling.
    Indeed, he finally had to look at Quinn.
    “Is she?” Quinn asked in a tiny whisper, one that was as frail and broken as the look in her eyes.
    The question was like a pin piercing a balloon. The tension and anticipation popped and, in an instant, morphed to anger and accusation.
    “Of course I am. Why would I be here otherwise?” Magda said, sounding as obnoxious as the smile that no doubt graced her flawless face.
    “’Tis true. They have been married for fourteen years,” Mother said, her voice sweet as honey, probably at the pleasure of being able to twist the knife in a bit. Mother wasn’t always a sadist, but she knew that getting rid of Quinn was the only way to get Alexander back home and spare herself the “scandal.” As if his personal life was something to be managed and approved, let alone by her. Still, she wasn’t above inflicting a little emotional distress to get her way, probably enjoyed it more than she should, in fact. He’d long ago