“The Tribune writer confirmed,” Marcus said, checking his tablet. “He wants an exclusive interview before the main crowd arrives.”

“Tell him I will speak to him at seven o’clock,” I said.

“Daniel’s lawyers have been calling my gallery,” Marcus said, looking worried.

“What did they ask?”

“They wanted to know the title of the exhibition,” Marcus said.

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them it was called *The Price of Acquisition*,” Marcus said.

I smiled for the first time in weeks.

“Perfect,” I said.

The title was a direct jab at the secret merger Daniel and Clara had been planning.

By Thursday afternoon, the studio was ready.

The air smelled of fresh varnish and expensive lilies Marcus had placed near the entrance.

A small bar had been set up in the corner with crystal glasses and sparkling water.

I went into the small bathroom in the back to change.

I wore a simple black dress with a high collar.

I didn’t wear any jewelry.

I didn’t want anything that Daniel had bought for me on my skin.

I washed my hands, scrubbing the stubborn black paint from beneath my fingernails.