India swore there was bitterness in Elaina’s voice, but her face held no sarcastic or angry smirk. Instead she stared off into space. Grant Robidoux making demands of his family was no secret. Everyone was expected to do their part to uphold the traditions their paternal grandparents started when they opened Robidoux Tobacco. Their mother had helped market the company before she’d passed away ten years ago when India was twenty. Elaina worked at the company and oversaw some of their other holdings and was primed to take over the helm, Byron had been one of the many legal counsels for them before opening a law firm with Travis, not to mention all of their aunts, uncles and cousins who also worked somewhere in the company.

India was the only one who hadn’t wanted to grow the empire. As his baby girl, her dad had let her indulge in her “little violin hobby” until she got serious about making music her career. He couldn’t accept that what he considered a hobby was a passion for her.

“Where is Daddy anyway?” Except for the noise of preparations downstairs, the house was quiet.

Elaina smiled widely. The expression was so unlike Elaina that chills of foreboding skittered down India’s spine. “He’s off with his new project. You’re going to love this.” The glee in her voice only increased India’s unease.

“Forget the dramatics and let me know where he’s gone.” Her words were confident, but her stomach quivered.

“He’s off with Russell Gilchrist. The newest young executive at Robidoux Tobacco. Marketing division. Daddy’s bringing in all this new blood to revitalize the brand. Russell’s one of them.”

“Okay, so why are you smiling like Cruella de Vil?”

“Because, I heard Daddy say he can’t wait for Russell to meet his baby girl.”

India started shaking her head before Elaina finished talking. “Don’t tell me he’s playing matchmaker and he doesn’t even know I’m home.”

“Daddy’s always planning for the future. Apparently since I can’t make babies, and Byron won’t get married and make any, he needs you to carry on the family line.”

India cringed. During her first Skype calls with her dad a few months after she’d left with the Transatlantic Orchestra, he’d told her about Elaina’s miscarriage. India hadn’t even known her sister was pregnant. When she’d tried to call Elaina afterward, her sister discussed the medical details as if she were going over a business proposal before rushing her off the phone. “Don’t talk like that.”