Julian's smile widened slightly, a little caught out, a little proud. "Well, it's still your family's legacy, my love. Anything to make my wife smile."
"I love you," Amara said, quiet and full.
"And I fall for you every day, baby," Julian said, and meant it the way he always did not as a line, but as a small daily fact he liked saying out loud.
He kissed her forehead and reached for his phone.
He made the calls from his study, door half open, voice low and businesslike in the way she recognized from years of watching him work, the same calm authority he used dismantling boardroom problems now turned toward something far smaller and far more urgent than any company.
Amara sat on the edge of their bed and waited, listening to the rise and fall of his voice through the wall without making out the words, watching the bath-time light spill faintly under the nursery door down the hall.
It was nearly forty minutes before he came back.
