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“I, ah, had a little call from a journalist earlier,” my father says. He passes Alex a glass of whiskey, then holds one out to me.

Christ, he stinks of alcohol.

I set the glass down untouched, my jaw tightening. “We talked about this. If you get called by anybody, you tell me right away. When did you speak to them?”

He shrugs, like details are ornamental. “A few hours ago. I was busy.”

Busy getting fucking drunk.

“What was the journalist’s name?” I question.

“I’m not sure.” He shrugs. “Anne. Annabel. Something like that.”

“Did you call Saskia?” I ask him. Because he’s under instruction to call our PR company if there’s any approach from the press at all.

“I thought you could,” he replies mildly. “That’s why I’m telling you.”

I let out a sigh. “For fuck’s sake, we talked about this. If anybody asks any questions, we tell Saskia immediately. You know somebody’s sniffing around.” I lean back against the bookshelf. “What exactly did she say?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Something and nothing. They try and catch you out, don’t they? Make you say something you shouldn’t.”

“And it’s the first time she’s called?” I ask him, because there’s something not right here. He won’t meet my eyes.

He takes a long sip of his whisky. “Maybe. I get a lot of calls. Talk to a lot of people. She sounded familiar. I think I may have chatted with her before at my club.”

Fury boils through me. I spend my life protecting my family. The fucking brand of the hotel. And he can’t even give me a straight answer.

“What. Did. She. Say?” I repeat it again. Slowly, like I’m talking to a damn toddler.

He actually has the temerity to sigh. “She said something about an article. Wanted to send me it.” He pushes his bottom lip out, like a moping teenager. “I don’t know. Said something about the party.”

“She knows about the party?” I say. “How?”

“Said she’d been talking to somebody close to me,” he admits, looking sheepish. He drains half his glass in one go. “They knew where I am.”

“Who?” My jaw is tight. “Did she say who she’s been talking to?”

“I don’t know. She’s probably lying.”

My stomach churns. I hate this. “Dad, are you having another affair?” It’s the obvious reason.

He frowns. “What I do in my personal life is none of your business, Theo.”

So he is. For fuck’s sake.

“And Julia wouldn’t say anything. She’s in Barbados right now anyway.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. Christ, I feel dirty even talking about this. God only knows how my mother would feel.

“Well if they know about the party, somebody’s been talking,” Alex murmurs.

I look over at him. “That narrows it down to about two hundred people.”

“Just trying to help.”

My phone starts to ring. I look down to see Saskia’s name lit up on the screen.

“Hello,” I say, swiping to accept. “Can you read my mind? I was about to call you.”