The tuning of the orchestra's instruments in the performance hall rose to a fever pitch.

"We should head back down. I think the presentation's about to begin."

They watched the 'Make Your Fate' video presentation from the directly behind the orchestra section. It was a beautifully edited and presented by the Yelena's Truth fashion staff. Sora was proud that the idea she'd given Yelena had gone this far and managed to bring her niece this much good fortune. She did note, however, that it wasn't very reminiscent of the couture brand Misra was known for. She was beginning to understand the nature of Ravi's ambivalence.

Dinner was served after the presentation had let out and they were fortunate enough to be seated at a table with Stephen Wilder and his assistant Giulia instead of where the rest of the Misra executives were gathered. I say 'fortunate'... Sora sensed blood in the water. When Giulia and Stephen had gone to deal with an emergency, she decided to inquire.

"Shouldn't you be with Manendra and Narsi? This is a big night for Yelena's Truth."

"We're having some disagreements about how to move forward creatively at Misra. Here is better."

"What did Hana do?"

"Hana isn't behind all of my problems."

"Sorry. She seems to be behind most of mine, so I just assumed."

Ravi kissed her fingers.

"She's not the root cause. Doesn't mean she isn't on the list. I've got a couple of things on my mind, but this is a ballroom and that's a dance floor. Let me take you for a spin."

The chamber orchestra took up a stirring classical piece.

"How's your waltz?"

"Good enough."

She hadn't waltzed since her wedding to Anthony.

Right as Ravi was leading her around their third circuit of the floor, the younger Misra heir stepped out of the performance hall and directly into their path. Ravi had to twirl her just so to avoid colliding with him.

"Ravi."

"Narsi."

Sora bristled at the disappointed look her nephew shot in her direction. Why me and not his mother?

"I see you've traded my mother in for another model—again."

"I see you're still pretending your 'witty' observations are of interest to anyone who isn't married to you—again."

Imogen held Narsi back, whispering calming nothings in his ear.

"It matters to those who matter; such as, I don't know, our father. Well, my father."

Ravi went rigid beside her. Sora settled against him till he began to relax.

"You don't want to open that door, Junior."

"We both know I'll come out on top in that fight. I'm a Misra. You're...whatever you call yourself."

"I'm the son our father loved regardless. You're whoever's your mother decided you were."

"Take that back."

"Not gonna happen."

"You're just going to let him talk about your sister that way?"

Sora hadn't wanted to get in the middle of this. She was one of Hana's most rabid defenders in her day. Not anymore.

"I didn't see you defending my honor when it was my husband who traded me in. I can't say I feel much sympathy for her."

"Golly, guess you're done playing the victim."

"That's your second strike, little brother. You don't get a third one."

"Neither do you, big brother. If you think I'm going to let you run Misra into the ground with another scandal, you're crazy. You're nothing, you're nobody. We made it without you for over a year and we thrived. You'll see that soon enough."

"That was an impressive slew of words you managed to string together. Did your wife come up with that?"

Sora's long-suffering groan was covered by Imogen's indignation.

"Hey! Leave me out of it."

Ravi spared his young sister-in-law a tolerant glance. "She doesn't even want credit for that one. Probably a good call. You should try following her lead for a change."

Narsi puffed up.

"Don't talk about my wife."

Ravi looked like he was laughing on the inside.

"Don't talk about the woman I love. You respect the people in my life and I'll respect the people in yours. Simple stuff. See if you can keep that straight."

"I won't be disrespected."

"Earn my respect."

"Why should I?"

Ravi rolled his shoulder.

"All right, this scene is giving me a headache. You gotta make up your mind. Do you want me to respect your work ethic, what there is of it, or do you want the moral high ground where you get to spit in my face despite how you treated Evelyn? You don't get both." Ravi clicked his tongue. "Let's be honest, you're not getting either, but I wanna get your take."

"You're not God's gift to this company."

"I never said I was."

"No? You strut back here like you own the place--"

"I own one-fifth of the 'place' where you put your feet up while Imogen does the heavy lifting. Before you were a twinkle in our father's eye, I was helping him put that 'place' on the map."

"And then you ran away like a preschooler who got his feelings hurt."

"I went to Rome, where one of the international arms of our company is located. It's not that far, I know you've been there, but I could draw you a map. Can you read maps or didn't you earn that badge in Boy Scouts?"

"Read my lips: You're not getting Misra."

"Read mine: I already have Misra. Doesn't matter if I'm president or not. When people in fashion hear the name Misra, they think of Dad and they think of me, not you. I don't see that changing."

"Dad won't stand for this."

"I don't need Dad's permission to seek a higher office."

"You know damn well that's not what I mean."

"Since work is the only topic up for discussion, I certainly do."

"Sora—"

"Don't. Talk. About. Sora."

"Somebody should."

"You wouldn't be my first choice."

Sora might have spoken on her own behalf were this fight about her and not the bad blood that ran deep between Narsi and Ravi. I'm just an easy target. This was a night to pick her battles.

Manendra gave up watching from the sidelines to separate his sons.

"What's going on over here? You're making a scene."

Ravi inclined his chin and straightened out his tux. "Nothing. We're done here."

Narsi stepped toward their father. "I don't think so."

"You don't think much. That we can agree on."

Manendra put up a hand to stay Ric's next comeback.

"Let's not do this. It's been a good night. Let's everyone go home and rest up. We'll deal with this in the morning."

"I'll be skipping that meeting. I don't have anything else to say."

"That's the Ravi Misra way, skipping all the parts where he's called to the carpet for his actions."

Ravi cocked his head as he regarded his youngest brother.

"If I wanted to listen to you complain, I'd spend another minute here with you. Alas, I've got other plans." He glanced back at Sora. "Let's go home."

Sora was more than ready to head for higher ground. "With pleasure."

"Congratulations on tonight's success. Give my best to Yelena." She nodded at both of them and followed Ravi out of the Opera.

After calling for their car, Ravi wandered over to the reflecting pool of the Taper Forum to stare up at the stars instead of making for the carpet. She hazarded an arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. This was giving back.

"That was exciting."

"How fast are you planning to run in the other direction to get away from us?"

"In these heels, I'd need a two-day head start and I still wouldn't get very far."

He let out a huff of a laugh.

"I'm no stranger to dysfunctional families, Ravi. I'm a Gallegos. I have my cousin's heart in my chest. How could I judge you or them? I won't run."

"How do I know that?"

"You'll just have to keep an eye on me until you're sure."

"That's something I think I can do."

Under cover of starlight, Sora kissed the man she adored, who adored her right back.

Not a bad way to spend an evening.

Sora and Ravi exited the Forum by way of the forest green carpet where the journalists and photographers were waiting to see who would leave well-dressed wrecks in the night.

"Ms. Himura! Mr. Misra! Look this way!"

Ravi ignored them so accustomed was he to their interference in his daily life. Sora instinctively shielded her face from the flashbulbs going off in her line of sight.

"Sora! Sora, who designed your dress?!"

Sora gritted her teeth. The question was reasonable, designed to foster a false sense of security until they could hit her with one that really hurt. If publishing has taught me anything, it's never buy the soft sell.

"Come on, Sora, you're coming and going with big sister's legendary lover. Give us something."

There it is.

Ravi placed a protective hand at the small of her back. "Stay classy, fellas."

Sora shot a perfunctory glare back toward the ballroom. This was to have been their night.

From the front steps, Sam raised his glass to Sora. She pegged him instantly as the source of the leak. The Himura men strike again. Sora could count on Sam to do what he thought was best for her. Despite the fact that he's unable to do it for himself. He meant well. Sora was likely to smack him if he tried again. She wasn't a child; this was her fate to make from here on.

The reporters toiled merrily, tossing all manner of question their way. Sora wanted to be done with it all. No more hedging or pretending. This isn't a rumor anymore. This is our life.

"Are you two an item? Our readers are dying to know."

Sora stopped; and then, Ravi with her. Every intimate moment they two had shared had been leading up to this. She made a decision.

This can't be happening. But it was.

"Yes. Yes, we're together. We're very happy."

The flashing lights got brighter, the shouting louder.

"I love him." Sora waved the white flag on deceiving anybody else. "I love him. That's all you're getting. Good night."