Alexander’s POV

Dean has cleared every photo from the coffee table. But my wife pushes the door wide and steps in, her smile slowly fading to a look of suspicious curiosity as she stares from me to Dean. Then her gaze drops to the envelope in his hand.

I unbutton my suit, swallow, and step out from behind my desk, heading toward her. “My love?”

Her mouth twists into a wry smile as she meets my gaze again. I note her full hands. In one hand is a baby-blue purse that matches the turtleneck ...