Isabel stared at him like he had just grown a second head.

"I'm sorry, what?" she said, blinking, “your wife?"

Isaac didn’t even flinch. His voice was calm and collected, like he wasn’t just dropping a bomb in the middle of dinner.

He turned toward Lena, "contact our media rep, arrange a full press conference for tomorrow morning. I want it quiet and clean, no third-party journalists, just our outlets."

Lena nodded, already pulling her phone out as she stepped back toward ...