"Mrs. Eaton, I understand that your aunt is Jeanine Prior-Matthews, the woman recently arrested for killing a twenty-four-year-old research subject by switching her medications and dispensing a dangerous and untested substance without approval. Do you have anything to say about that?"

Tris felt Tobias tense beside her.

.

The television network had promised not to ask about Jeanine. They even had it in writing, yet here they were - on live television, being asked about Jeanine. Tobias practically had steam coming out of his ears. Tris put a hand on his leg.

"Yes, Jeanine is my aunt," she acknowledged. "What she is accused of is deplorable. To simplify the story and put it in a way a journalist like yourself will find familiar, it's a lot like a reporter who had a contract and agreed to conduct an interview only about a certain subject, then asked questions they'd agreed not to. It's unethical at best, and probably grounds for termination. But in Jeanine's case, she was administering experimental drugs. If she really did go 'off script,' so to speak, people could be hurt or killed.

"A young woman in her research project died, and the authorities think that's why, so they're investigating. I sincerely hope the investigation reveals what happened to her. People shouldn't die in a clinical trial. Her family deserves to know the truth. If Jeanine - or anyone else - is responsible or negligent, they need to be held accountable for their actions and punished accordingly. Scientific research is supposed to save lives, not take them."

The host looked peeved at Tris' passive-aggressive dig, but continued. "Are you an investor in Erudite Pharmaceuticals?" he asked the couple.

"I am not," Tobias said firmly. "My holdings include a diverse portfolio of businesses, but medical technology and pharmaceuticals are not part of it. I've never felt comfortable enough with my knowledge of the industry. I considered making a donation to the university research project that this trial was part of, but only because it involved my wife's family. Tris convinced me to do my own research first, as I usually do. There just hasn't been time with Tris' graduation, our wedding, the art exhibit and reception, and my other business commitments."

"Well," the host said with a self-satisfied smirk, "thank you both for your time this morning. Best of luck with your art exhibit."

Tris smiled a tight little smile, and Tobias simply nodded.

The camera light went dark, and Tris watched on the monitor as another host began talking about something else back at the news station's studio in New York.

Tobias jumped to his feet, enraged. "Amar!" he yelled.

"I'm already working on it," Amar said as he walked in with a phone pressed to his ear.

Within minutes they were back in their hotel suite, and Amar and Tobias were busy on the phone. Tris pulled out her own phone and saw a number of text messages and missed calls. Most of the messages were from friends saying how great she looked on television. Her dad also messaged.

A: I thought the interview was going to be strictly about art?

T: It was. We even had a signed agreement. The reporter went rogue.

A: Ouch. You held it together well. Your little dig about reporters makes more sense now.

A: By the way, don't call the landline if you need us. Caleb is furious. He thinks you turned on your family. We're worried about him. He seems really stressed since he came home.

T: Ok

Tris was troubled by the messages from her dad. It bothered her that her family was being dragged through the mud. It upset her that the art show was being tainted by the other news story. It saddened her that her brother had become so callous.

She looked across the suite's living room at Tobias. He was pacing with his phone pressed to his ear. He had ranted and scolded whomever was on the other end, and now he was listening. He tugged at his hair, obviously not comforted by what was being said.

Tris felt guilty, angry, and hurt. She worried about the art show, and facing the press at the reception. She worried that the reporters in attendance would bombard her with questions about Jeanine instead of focusing on the art that had such potential for attracting tourists to Albania.

Deciding to be proactive, Tris texted for Rebekah to bring her laptop and travel printer, and meet her in the suite's dining room.

.

Thirty minutes later, Tris and Rebekah emerged from the dining room with several copies of a letter and press release that they drafted. Amar and Tobias were sitting on the sofa having a serious discussion about something when Tris interrupted.

"Excuse me," she said. "Do the two of you have a few minutes?"

"Of course," Tobias said to his wife.

Tris handed each of the men a copy of the documents.

"This is a rough draft of a letter to the press outlets covering the art gala tomorrow," she explained, "and a press release concerning Jeanine's arrest and investigation. I think it would be best if we get ahead of the story so that the focus tomorrow night can remain on the art show and Albanian tourism."

The two men read through the documents.

"This is a good idea," Amar said. "I like how you've made it clear that you only know what you see in the press, so you have nothing to contribute to their reporting. You also strike a nice balance of acknowledging the ongoing investigation and honoring the life that was lost. We should move on it right away. What do you think, Tobias?"

"I have a few minor suggestions for tweaking the wording. I'd also like our legal and media teams to look at it," Tobias answered.

"I'll get them on the phone," Amar said.

Things only got busier from there, and Tris had been fighting a headache since the American interview. Once she answered everyone's questions, she decided to slip into the bedroom and lay down in the cool quiet for a little while.

She was coming to realize just how intense her new life was going to be. Though he wasn't much known globally, in Albania Tobias was a bit of a celebrity. Things that would have just been personal misfortunes for Tris in her previous life were items of public interest and curiosity in her new world. Tobias' business ventures were global, so issues demanding his attention could strike day or night. Everything they did seemed magnified compared to the life Tris was used to, and she briefly wondered if she was cut out for it, and how long it would take to adjust to the attention.

Tris opened her eyes to realize that it was early evening, and she had slept away the late afternoon. Tobias was asleep beside her, and she took a minute to admire his handsome, relaxed face. Not knowing how long he'd been able to rest, Tris decided to take a risk and wake him anyway. She snuck carefully out of bed, locked the door, and undressed before crawling under the covers to wake her husband.

.

That night the newlyweds opted to order room service and stay in the suite all evening. They wore lounge clothes, and Amar picked up a pizza for them.

Tobias' press people worked with Tris' idea, and after releasing their statement about Jeanine and email to the journalists invited to the art gala, they had been busy well into the evening fielding follow-up inquiries. The Eatons held firm. The gala was about the art, the museum, and inviting people to visit Albania. They would not discuss anything else.

.

Friday morning saw Tris and Rebekah pressed into service at the museum. They helped set up cocktail tables with centerpieces, put out signage, and participated in a million other last-minute party details. The staff was excited, and everything seemed to be under control and well-organized.

Lunch was delivered courtesy of Tris and Tobias, and the girls stayed to eat with the museum and party planning staff. After that Tris was off to the spa to get dolled up for the big night. She had manicure, pedicure, hairstyle, and makeup services scheduled.

Amar arrived at the salon early to pick up Tris. She was surprised when he walked in while she was still in the makeup chair.

"Mrs. Eaton," he greeted her formally, as he usually did in front of strangers. "Mr. Tobias has been unable to get ahold of you today, and he's concerned."

"I'm sorry," Tris replied. "My phone is back at the hotel suite. I forgot it this morning."

"I'll let him know," Amar said, pulling out his own phone.

The driver stayed until Tris was finished, then took her back to the hotel.

"I've been worried about you all day," Tobias said in greeting when Tris arrived at the suite.

"I know," Tris said, "Amar told me. I'm sorry. I forgot my phone this morning, and I've been busy."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and just held him until he relaxed.

Amar and Rebekah brought a light dinner, and Tris and Tobias talked about their respective days while they ate, then dressed for the gala.

Tris wore Dolce and Gabbana again. It had quickly become her favorite design house. The dress was black and pink, strapless on Tris' left side, with an asymmetrical neckline that transitioned into a full long sleeve on her right. The body of the dress was fitted and stretchy, but the one sleeve was semi-sheer and flowed down her side from the shoulder seam, under her arm, and almost to the floor. It was black, with a swath of big pink English roses and green leaves over part of the fabric. The overall effect was dramatic, artistic, and floral, yet youthful. She paired it with strappy black Louboutin heels and her simple diamond stud earrings and tennis bracelet.

Tobias also dressed in his best. He wore a black tuxedo with a white shirt and black bow tie. The look was classic, and Tris nearly drooled at the sight.

Since they were co-hosting alongside the museum itself, Tris and Tobias arrived early for the art reception. They posed for a few pictures, checked in with the staff, and began mingling with the press.

At first they stayed close together. Tris didn't want to get separated from Tobias and cornered by the press. She was afraid that her Albanian wouldn't be adequate, or that one of the reporters would ask about Jeanine. But as more and more guests arrived, the couple found themselves pulled in different directions. Fortunately, Rebekah and Amar were never far away.

George and Tori arrived, and Tris had a drink with her friends. Prince Leka and Princess Elia were there, and the press caught photos of Tris showing the Van Gogh to the Crown Princess. The Van de Brakkes were there, and so were Eric and Lauren Coulter and his parents.

Tris could tell that there was tension between Lauren and her mother-in-law as soon as they walked in, so she greeted them all, then invited her friend to walk with her to "check on something."

"Traveling with Eric's parents is the worst," Lauren confided when she and Tris were well out of earshot. "His mother has never liked me, and they're in my space all the time! Sean is sweet, but he won't stand up to his wife. Eric feels caught in the middle. Meanwhile Aileen drops big, rude hints about how Eric could have done better. She actually said that it's not too late for him to divorce me."

"Are you serious?" Tris asked. "She said that? In front of you?"

"I'm telling you," Lauren continued, "she's horrible. At home it's easier to ignore, but when we travel together…"

Lauren was on the verge of tears, so Tris pulled her friend into a side room and gave her a hug.

"I get it," she said. "I don't have in-laws, but I married way above my station in life. The expectations are brutal, and people can be really nosy and rude. But you have something those society girls don't - you have Eric. He married you because he loves you. He wasn't after money, family connections, or titles; he was after Lauren, because he loves Lauren."

"I know," Lauren said, dabbing at her eyes. "Eric truly loves me."

"Yes he does," Tris agreed.

"Can I ask you a question?" Lauren asked almost shyly.

Tris nodded.

"What do you do all day?" Lauren asked.

The question surprised Tris. Lauren didn't sound judgmental, but Tris still wasn't sure how to respond.

"I mean…" Lauren stammered, "I just… I don't work. Being Eric's wife, that isn't expected of me. Actually they expect me to not work. But we have staff who do all the cooking and housework, and we don't have kids yet, and I just don't know what to do with myself!"

Tris chuckled. "We've only been married for two weeks," she reminded Lauren. "We went on our honeymoon, and we've been planning this event. I'm planning on getting involved in some charitable work, but there hasn't been time yet.

"I love kids," Tris continued. "I studied social work - child welfare - in college. I plan to do that kind of thing once we settle in. What are you passionate about, Lauren?"

Lauren blushed. "Gardening," she admitted sheepishly. "I love plants and growing things. I looked into gardening clubs a little, but Scotland is a bit of a different climate than England, and I don't know what I'm doing yet. I've been reading about it a lot. Eric said we can create a vegetable garden behind the house this fall, and I can plant in the spring."

"That sounds great," Tris enthused. "See if you can find a garden club or something. Even if the other participants are older, or more experienced, they can help you adjust to the local climate, and you'll have people to talk to about your hobby."

Lauren brightened. "Thank you, Tris," she said sincerely. "We better get you back to the party. After all, you are kind of the star of the show."

Tris groaned, but agreed, and the two young women walked out arm-in-arm.

.

The Eatons were ecstatic with how the art opening turned out. Albanian dignitaries, wealthy friends from around the continent, and some of the best-known and respected people in the art community had come together to celebrate the recovery of the long-lost Van Gogh and the other treasures of the Eaton collection. They'd nibbled on fine catered hors d'oeuvres, and sipped themed cocktails, including a muddy brown Dutch chocolate martini named for the Van Gogh. They posed for photos and answered questions about Albania for the press.

The event went so well that the newlyweds smiled all the way home on the hour-long drive to their estate.

It was late when they arrived, but Tris decided to shower off the party, makeup, and hairspray before bed. She slipped into a favorite pink silk sleep set, and was dreaming as soon as her head hit the pillow.

.

A sharp scraping pain woke Tris in the pitch black of night. Her eyes flew open as awareness rushed at her. Someone was in their bedroom, holding her down, with a knife to her throat.

No!

What's happening?

A dream. I'm dreaming.

A heavy weight on her midsection

Struggling

I'm not dreaming.

Shallow cuts as she dodged the swiping blade

Screaming

Tobias

The glint of moonlight on a knife blade

Her attacker's face

Caleb

Caleb

Tris saw the knife blade plunging toward her chest in the darkness, stabbing instead of slicing as it had been. She pulled away, hard, but the weight of her brother, sitting on her midsection, didn't allow her to go far.

She heard Tobias' fist connect with Caleb's face as the knife plunged into the left side of her upper chest - right above her raven tattoo, almost to her shoulder. She let out a scream as pain seared her arm and chest. Everything was a blur of pain, darkness, and the sound of fighting coming from the floor. She tried to reach for her phone on the nightstand, but even the smallest movement brought excruciating pain, and she screamed again.

The door to the master bedroom flew open, and the lights came on. Tris saw Rebekah standing stunned in the doorway.

"Get help!" Tris screamed.

Rebekah turned and ran.

Tris could tell that she was losing a lot of blood. She was starting to feel faint, but she tried to stay awake. She forced herself to roll toward the sound of Tobias and Caleb's scuffle.

Tobias was bigger, stronger, and more fit, but Caleb had a long knife, and he'd surprised them when they were asleep. The men seemed to be at a stalemate with Tobias unable to get close enough to hit Caleb, and Caleb too unskilled to hurt Tobias with the knife.

Tris watched Caleb swing the blade wildly at Tobias. "Look out!" she cried out instinctively as her husband ducked.

Both men turned their heads toward Tris, and Caleb realized his momentary advantage. He bolted for the open bedroom door, throwing the knife at his sister as he ran.

Tris ducked, but the wild blade sliced the side of her neck.

"Tris!" Tobias yelled.

It was the last thing she heard as she lost consciousness and the darkness claimed her.

.

The next thing Tris was aware of was loud noise - a high-pitched engine sound, followed by a rhythmic whomp whomp. She knew the sound from somewhere. It reminded her of snow, and cold weather. Then there was nothing again.

.

"...on their way," a low, rumbling voice pierced the fog of Tris' semi-conscious state.

"Send Jorik, he speaks English."

"I don't know. She should be awake by now. She moves around and mumbles, but that's it."

Tobias, she realized. The voice is Tobias. He's okay. That means I'm okay. What about Caleb?

"Tris?" Tobias spoke again. "It's alright, Zemra ime. You're safe. I'm okay. Caleb was arrested. Everyone is fine. We're at the hospital in Tirana."

"Why?" Tris managed to ask, and the agony in her voice made it clear to Tobias that she wasn't asking why she was in the hospital, but why her brother had attacked.

"Why?" Tobias repeated. "No one knows why. There's something wrong with Caleb. He's unstable. Someone suggested that he might have been drugged or something. He flew to Greece, rented a car, and drove to our home. When we got back from the art opening, he was hiding in the house. Your parents had texted to say that Caleb disappeared, but you were away from your phone, and they never imagined that he would do something like this. He waited until we were both asleep and attacked you."

"Are you okay?" she asked as she looked around at the sterile hospital room and the haggard-looking man sitting to her right.

"I'm fine," Tobias assured her. "I feel terrible that I couldn't protect you, though. Your parents are on their way, and I understand if you want to… want to go home… with, uh, with them. I mean, we've been married for two weeks, and I've already let you get attacked by a jellyfish, a rogue reporter, and a home invader. I'm no good at this. I don't deserve good things."

"Tobias," Tris groaned. "Stop beating yourself up. The jellyfish was a wild animal. We didn't know I was allergic. The reporter was annoying, but that's not your fault. And Caleb… Caleb is my brother."

"Still," he argued. "I should have improved security. For someone to just walk into our house… I… I failed as a husband. You deserve better."

"That's a bit dramatic," Tris said wryly. "Maybe I failed as a wife. I mean, you didn't have to deal with Caleb and Jeanine until I brought them into your life."

"Don't say that!" Tobias exclaimed. "Other people's craziness is not your fault!"

"I know," Tris said smugly, smiling as she stared into her husband's troubled blue eyes. "Other people's craziness isn't your fault, either."

Tobias sighed, and his shoulders slumped.

"Tell me about my injuries," Tris said, changing the subject. "How soon can I go home with you?"

There wasn't a lot to explain. Tobias told Tris that she had a number of superficial scratches, eight cuts, and one deep stab wound. Three of the cuts had required stitches, including the one that just missed Tris' jugular when Caleb threw the knife.

The stab wound to her chest/shoulder was the most problematic of her injuries. It was deep, and close enough to her heart that it had bled a lot. It didn't help that Tris was small, or that she had moved around a lot after she was stabbed. She'd passed out from the blood loss, and Tobias had called in a helicopter to rush her to Tirana's best hospital.

They'd performed minor surgery in the early hours of the morning, carefully repairing damage and stitching shut Tris' wounds. They put her on antibiotics and fluids through an IV, and gave her a blood transfusion.

Once she was stitched up and stable, Tris was moved to a private room, and Tobias was allowed to see her. He hadn't left her side since, and had barely taken his eyes off her sleeping face.

"What time is it?" Tris asked.

"Almost noon," Tobias said.

"What day?" Tris asked in obvious confusion.

"Saturday," Tobias answered. "It's hard to believe, but the art opening was just last night. We got home around one o'clock. You got to the hospital around four-thirty. It was all one long night."

"I'll bet you're exhausted," Tris said, pulling her hand out of Tobias' so she could run her fingers through his hair.

"Mmm," he murmured in agreement and bliss as her nails gently scratched his scalp.

"Have you eaten anything?" she asked.

"I had a muffin," Tobias said. "And lots of coffee. Bringing me coffee every hour has been Amar's excuse to come in here and check on you. He'll be bringing me lunch soon, too. He, George, and Rebekah have been here since they brought me. I… I couldn't go in the helicopter with you. They wouldn't let me."

"It's okay, Baby," Tris soothed. "I was asleep. The medics needed room to do their job. Amar got you here well before I woke up. We're together now. Everything is fine."

Tobias visibly relaxed, and Tris smiled softly, thankful for their wonderful staff of friends who took such good care of them.