Gina Adan tied a white apron around her waist as she silently counted the glasses on the silver tray—tall, crystal flutes filled with champagne on top of solid antique silver. It would be heavy. She was strong but knew she couldn’t take too many at once.

She glanced out the window. Spring sunshine was beaming down on Gyllgarn Castle. The daffodils were in full bloom along its yellow walls, and the lawn was covered with small groups of guests here for the christening—men in suits and women in high heels and silky dresses. Inside the castle, vases and pots were filled with flowers, and every surface had been cleaned and polished. Gina smoothed the apron. She loved this castle and its ancient history, its furniture, knickknacks, and not least its paintings of stern noblemen and velvet-clad women from the past three hundred years, peering down at her wherever she went. It was Swedish, exotic, and as far from where she had grown up as you could get. There were very few castles in Somalia.

Gina had worked jobs like this since she was sixteen. That meant that for the past six years, she had worked on the fringes of the Swedish upper class, serving them at christenings, graduations, and weddings, cleaning their enormous villas in posh Djursholm and their grand apartments in even posher Östermalm in the city. She didn’t mind. For the most part, they paid well, and she liked the flexible hours. Sure, men sometimes accosted her, made slimy propositions or comments about her skin color, and some of the women could be really nasty, but that was her life, and it wasn’t any worse among the elite than anywhere else.

Gina rubbed at a mark on the silver and then picked up the tray. But she had seriously misjudged the weight, and when one of the filled glasses started to slide, her heart leaped into her throat. The crystal glasses were heirlooms and the champagne was very expensive.

She cursed, picturing the entire tray falling to the floor before her, but a pair of strong hands reached out and saved her at the last moment.

“Thanks,” she said, relieved. A lazy smile met her gaze, and it was as though the sun had just started to shine straight into the kitchen.

“Hi there,” said Alexander De la Grip. He held the heavy tray steady for her. “That was about to end badly. Lucky I turned up.”

“Hi,” Gina said, returning the smile because it was impossible to do anything else when Alexander beamed at you.

“It’s been a while,” she continued, taking the tray back from him. She hadn’t seen Alexander since the summer before. He looked well. Though he always did.

“No, I haven’t been in Sweden since last fall.”

His words were distinct and his appearance immaculate, but she couldn’t help noting that he already looked quite inebriated.

“Too busy partying?” She tried to remember how many newspapers she had seen him in over the past six months but gave up at ten.

“It’s a hard job, but someone’s gotta be the black sheep of the family,” he said, holding the door open for her. When she looked closer, there was a haunted look on his beautiful face, a familiar sight at family gatherings, even if he mostly managed to hide it.

“And how is Sweden’s most beautiful champagne waitress?” he asked, the haunted look gone and in its stead another million-dollar smile.

“I’m pretty good.”

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can help with,” he said. “Hold open more doors, catch more trays.” He winked. “I have endless suggestions.”

“Mmm,” she said with a suspicious look. Alexander always flirted with her. But he did the same with everyone, which was actually quite egalitarian.

She snuck past him and went out to work, leaving him to his own devices.

The thirsty guests quickly cleared the tray, and Gina began to pick up empty glasses while she took quick peeks at the glamorous partygoers before heading back to the kitchen to swap the used glasses for fresh ones, pour out more champagne, and restart the service.

When she stepped outside again, Alexander’s older brother, Count Peter De la Grip, approached alone across the grass. Gina hesitated. She didn’t like Peter and would have preferred to avoid him altogether, but since he was headed straight toward her, she forced herself to hold out the tray and give him a polite smile.

“Hello,” he said as he took a glass. He thanked her and then stood silently beside her. Gina didn’t know what to do; it felt impolite to just leave. But to her, Peter De la Grip was the archetypal aristocrat: arrogant, convinced of his own superiority and others’ inferiority. She glanced at him, standing next to her with a glass in his hand and his gaze fixed in the air. None of the other guests came over to him. He looked different, she realized. He had lost weight since she’d last seen him, which must have been that morning last year, the morning of the infamous shareholders’ meeting where the De la Grips lost their controlling ownership of Investum, the family firm. That had been surreal, even for her, and she wasn’t affected personally. Peter probably hadn’t had an easy time of it this past year, she would give him that. And this castle, she suddenly realized, it had been his. Peter and his nasty wife had lived here at Gyllgarn like a king and queen. But then he had lost it in the same takeover, his wife had filed for a divorce, and now … Gina realized that she had no idea what Peter De la Grip did these days. He had completely disappeared from her radar. She stood silently next to him, her weight on one foot, and wondered whether he would notice if she snuck away.

Peter sighed loudly and turned to her. He looked tired. He put the glass back on the tray.

“Thanks,” he said. “That was good.” As he walked away across the grass, it seemed as though people averted their eyes and turned their backs. Gina glanced at the flute he had set back on the tray. It was still full.

Alexander studied Gina’s progress from the corner of his eye as he talked to a countess with whom he had attended boarding school. The countess was pretty, but Gina was incredibly beautiful. Long, slim limbs. Cheekbones any model would kill for. If Gina didn’t work for his family, then … Automatically he flashed the countess a bedroom smile and continued to let his thoughts wander. Gina had been talking to Peter, and that troubled him. It was one thing to flirt with Gina himself, because he would never actually cross the line with someone in a dependent position. But with Peter you never knew. Alexander exhaled only after Peter left Gina’s side.

The countess looked puzzled, and Alexander gave her an apologetic look. He hadn’t realized how ready he was to throw himself at his big brother if he set a foot even slightly wrong. They hadn’t seen one another since the board meeting when Peter unexpectedly—no, shockingly—had voted against their father and sealed the deal on the De la Grip family finally losing control of Investum. They hadn’t spoken since, which suited Alexander fine. There were a lot of people he disliked or despised, but Peter had his own special position in the People I Despise category. The countess moved on, and Alexander watched as Peter was swallowed up by the crowd. With a bit of luck, he could avoid his big brother today, and ideally for the rest of his life.

“Alexander!”

He turned toward the familiar, Russian-accented voice.

“Uncle Eugene,” he said warmly. Eugene was one of the few members of his family, other than his sister, Natalia, whom he truly loved.

His uncle gave him one of his typical bear-like hugs, noisy Russian kisses on his cheeks and all. Eugene looked well. Dressed in bright colors, clean-shaven, smelling of aftershave.

“Now that you’re in Sweden, you must come down to see me in Skåne,” Eugene insisted. He waved his glass in the air. “I’m hosting a charity ball. People who want to raise money for something or other are coming. The environment, I think. You know how much I love the environment.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow.

Eugene seemed to be thinking.

“Or was it world peace? Something like that. Either way, it’ll be an entire weekend of performance and business and mingling. Lots of people like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yes, you know. Beautiful people with too little sense and too much money. Jet set. Together we’ll contribute to making the world a better place.”

“I’ll try to come,” Alexander lied. He liked his uncle, and he really should visit the estate—he did own it, after all. But a charity ball in the countryside? It wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun weekend.

Eugene shook his head as though he knew precisely what was going through Alexander’s mind. “It would be good if you came down. It’s been too long since we spent any time together,” was all he said.

Alexander made a noncommittal sound and then was saved by his big sister, Natalia. She held the day’s guest of honor in her arms. Alexander gave his sister a hug with one arm before noticing that his baby niece was enthusiastically blowing bubbles from her own spit. He studied the child. “She must’ve gotten that from David’s side.”

“Molly’s unusually advanced, I have to say,” Natalia replied loyally. She looked down at her daughter’s sticky chin. “Even if it’s not always obvious.”

Alexander laughed. “So why aren’t I godfather to this little miracle?”

He saw a flash of regret in Natalia’s golden eyes, but her voice was steady when she answered: “I need someone reliable, Alexander.”

He froze for a moment before he pulled himself together again. “You’re right. I’m not exactly the right person to keep someone on the straight and narrow.” He smiled to cover up the fact that he was unexpectedly hurt by the way his beloved sister had so obviously weighed him up and found him wanting.

Natalia squeezed his arm. “David and I are so happy you came to the christening,” she said in a conciliatory tone.

Alexander raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? David is happy? Why do I find that hard to believe?” Natalia’s husband and he weren’t exactly loving brothers-in-law.

“Yes,” said Natalia firmly. “At least he’s not unhappy,” she added, and Alexander gave her a wink. Sweet Natalia, she couldn’t tell a lie if her life depended upon it.

“Well, he’d better not be unhappy since he has you.” Natalia and David had married last fall, just weeks after David had crushed the De la Grip family empire. And weeks after he had impregnated Natalia. And caused her to lose pretty much everything that had made her who she was. As courtships went, it had been pretty lousy.

Yeah, it had been a crazy year, but not all of the craziness had been David Hammar’s fault, Alexander admitted to himself. Not that he would ever disclose that to Natalia. He enjoyed despising David too much for that.

“So how’s married life with the family’s archenemy?” he asked instead.

Eugene gave him a disapproving look.

“He’s not the archenemy,” protested Natalia. She bit her lip and kissed Molly on the head, closing her eyes briefly as she inhaled the baby’s scent. “Not anymore, at least. And certainly not mine. Oh, please, don’t bring all that up when you meet him. It’s all in the past.”

“Of course, dear,” Eugene said.

“If you say so,” Alexander murmured.

But David Hammar’s ruthless vendetta had rocked the entire foundation of the De la Grip family, and things had changed forever. Not that Alexander really cared that much for the family empire. To be honest he mostly disliked David on principle. The man was too full of himself, too damn capable. But since Natalia’s eyes implored him to behave, and since he loved her too much to cause her pain on purpose, he decided to play nice. Well, as nice as he could. He gulped down the last of his champagne, ignoring Eugene’s censorious frown.

“So, how does it feel to be back here?” he asked instead, waving toward the yellow castle.

“Honestly I’m just glad we could squeeze in the christening. Gyllgarn has a fully booked schedule the whole spring.” She smiled at Molly and made a cooing sound. Molly blew a happy bubble of spit in return. “We’re going to run activities for kids and teenagers in need here. Soccer tournaments. Riding.”

Alexander couldn’t help but pull a face at the enthusiasm in his big sister’s voice. But in his family, Natalia had always been the one with the most heart. Not that there had ever been much competition. They were a rather fucked-up group.

“That seems to be in these days, saving the world,” he said, looking meaningfully at Eugene. He took another glass of champagne from a passing tray. He had planned to stay relatively sober, but really, why bother? “I suppose your democratizing the castle like that isn’t too popular?”

“There’s nothing I care about less than what people say. I’m trying to do something good.”

And then Alexander spotted a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. He braced himself, swallowing down the champagne.

“And just when it looked like good would triumph, evil turned up to restore the balance,” he mumbled as their mother, Ebba De la Grip, approached them.

“Mom’s not evil,” Natalia protested.

Alexander gave her an ironic look.

“Did we have the same childhood?” he asked. It was a joke, but in actual fact they hadn’t. Not by a long shot.

“Fine, okay, but she tries the best she can from her point of view.” Natalia shifted Molly in her arms and looked pleadingly at both Alexander and Eugene. “Don’t cause a scene.”

“Would never cross my mind,” said Alexander. “So what convinced the devil, sorry, Mom, to leave her beloved vineyard?”

Ebba and his dad, Gustaf De la Grip, had moved, or fled, depending on how you looked at it, to France after the mayhem last year. What little Alexander had felt for his father had disappeared after those weeks; so many unforgivable things had been said, done, and revealed. As far as Alexander was concerned, his father might as well be dead.

But with his mom, things were more complicated. Largely because Natalia stubbornly insisted on trying to maintain a relationship with their less-than-good-enough mother. And Alexander knew that he loved Natalia more than he despised their mother, which meant he was effectively caught in the middle. It was a near impossible equation.

“Mom came back to Sweden for Molly’s christening,” Natalia said. “She’ll be in town for a few weeks. Please, could you try? She was really upset when you didn’t get in touch at Christmas. Or at Easter. It’s a huge step for her, to leave Dad in France and come here alone.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

Ebba had stopped to greet a friend, and Alexander tried to study her as objectively as he could. Her pale blue dress and the matching hat perched on her blond hair; her smooth skin, and cool perfection. She looked like any other aristocrat. Beautiful and well-kept but nothing more. An ordinary woman. Alexander could still remember the way he had longed for her and her love as a child. Remembered the way she would leave him to go see one of her “friends” while Nat and Peter were in school.

“You mustn’t tell anyone,” she would say while putting on coral lipstick. “If Daddy finds out, he won’t love us anymore. Mommy will cry and we’ll have to move and it will all be your fault. You don’t want that, do you?”

He had shaken his head.

“Good boy. Just sit here—Mommy will be back soon,” she’d said, and disappeared in a cloud of silk and perfume.

He had been just a child, only four or maybe five and he’d loved her with such desperation. Disobeying her, he’d snuck out of the house as she left, hid behind a small bush. It was summer and the leaves had been covered with insects. He could still remember the sounds of their humming. The car seemed to come out of nowhere. The man who stepped out was a stranger, but he kissed Alexander’s mother, took her arm, put her in the car, slammed the door. Alexander could only stare at the unfolding scene.

The car took off, creating a small cloud of dust over the long gravel drive. Then there was silence. Not even the insects made a sound. She had gone so eagerly, without giving her young son a second thought.

Alexander remembered he’d stayed behind that bush for a long time, waiting, waiting for her to come back.

He had nowhere to go. His mother was the person he trusted most in the world, the person who should have cared for him. And she abandoned him so easily.

At that moment, he felt he had no one.

Alexander shoved his hands into his pockets, embarrassed by how they were trembling. He fought the urge to leave, looked around for more alcohol. Funny how he had loved her then. Well, that certainly was over.

“Hi, Mom,” Natalia said.

Ebba looked as though she was about to give Natalia a hug but made do with an awkward pat on the shoulder instead. She gave Molly, who was happily gurgling away, a smile that actually looked genuine, nodded a greeting to her brother, Eugene, and then looked straight at Alexander.

He steeled himself as her blue eyes brimmed with tears. “Alexander. So wonderful to see you.”

He could feel the usual wave of unease approaching, the one he always felt when she hinted at an emotional closeness he no longer wanted. He held his breath, getting used to the familiar scent of her perfume—always White Linen, which he hated.

Things would be so much easier if there hadn’t been a period when he’d loved her, he thought, bowing slightly.

“Wonderful to see you too, dear Mother.”

If Ebba noticed the mockery in his voice, she showed no sign of it. She simply took another step toward him, entering his personal space. He went rigid. Ebba rarely cared about what other people needed, but today she seemed to realize that she had crossed a line. She paused, blinked uncertainly, and turned back to Molly instead.

Alexander let out his breath.

As the bells in the old Gyllgarn chapel rang, the christening guests gathered in the pews. A female priest led the ceremony, and Alexander was proud that in everything she did, his big sister challenged the prejudices that still held such sway in their class. The music rose toward the ceiling, and for some reason he shuddered. He had enjoyed playing in the chapel as a child, been fascinated at how the sunlight found its way in through the uneven glass, but had also been scared of the way the acoustics caused even the smallest of sounds to echo throughout the entire room. They had spent the majority of their summers at Gyllgarn when they were small, and he had memories of Natalia’s long brown hair swaying in a ponytail, the horses she loved to ride, and the children from the nearby village they played with. Some of them were here today—adults now, of course, with their own families. He remembered many of the things they had done as children, but he couldn’t remember the feeling. Had he been happy? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember, and that bothered him.

The music fell silent, and Natalia and David carried Molly up to the antique christening basin. The godparents, Natalia’s best and oldest friend, Åsa Bjelke, and David’s business partner, Michel Chamoun, stood ceremoniously alongside. Molly protested loudly at the water on her head, and her parents hurried to comfort her.

Ebba’s eyes glistened, and she dabbed a handkerchief at the corners. Alexander didn’t know what to think. Had their mother finally forgiven Natalia for marrying David, the man who’d taken the thing Ebba loved most of all away from her: her position in society? And then Alexander caught a rather nasty smile in one of the pews. A woman in her midthirties had looked over her shoulder and was eyeing him, quite openly. Christ. He hadn’t seen that she was here. She was one of them. He knew her but suddenly couldn’t remember her name. Maybe he had suppressed it. She gave him a raised eyebrow and then started whispering to the woman sitting next to her. Alexander couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it wasn’t too difficult to imagine, to remember. They both turned around and looked him over, winked at him. He fought against the wave of repugnance that washed over him, tried to focus on the ceremony.

After the christening, Alexander shook David Hammar’s hand and congratulated him, grateful for the distraction.

“Good that you came, Alexander,” said David curtly. He said nothing more, but there was judgment in that uncompromising look, wasn’t there?

Alexander mumbled something about the ceremony being fantastic, but then withdrew; he needed some breathing room, away from his family and the things he imagined he could read on their faces, away from people that made him feel dirty. He snuck out the back, onto the terrace at the other side of the castle, and leaned against a stone pillar, looking out at the water.

“Are you okay?”

He turned. Gina again.

“Just a bit of family overdose. I’ll need something stronger than champagne after this,” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

He let his gaze wander over her. She wore a simple dress beneath her apron. Soft canvas shoes. “Feel like going out once you’re done here?” he asked.

Gina smiled. “No, thanks. I’m flattered. At least I think I am. But I like my job, and it would make things too complicated.”

“We don’t need to make it complicated,” he said flippantly. But it was a halfhearted protest. He didn’t want to ruin the relationship he and Gina had, he realized. And besides, she deserved much more than a cynical, disillusioned man like him.

“Plus, I have to study tonight,” she added.

“Ah. Sorry, I had no idea you were studying. Which subject?”

“Medicine. My second semester.” She said it proudly, but also slightly defiantly, as though she expected to be questioned.

Evidently he was surrounded by doctors these days.

“So you’ll be a doctor, then?”

“Yes, eventually.”

“Helping people and stuff like that?” He gave her a slight smile.

Gina’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly she reminded him of Isobel Sørensen. The same integrity shone in her gaze.

“I need to get back.”

“Good luck, Gina,” he said. He truly meant it.

She hesitated, bit her lip. “I just think it’s everyone’s duty to do the best they can. It’s never too late for that.” With those words, she turned and left.

Alexander stayed out on the terrace. He fished his cigarettes from his jacket pocket, shook one out and lit it, then blew smoke into the clear spring air.

Finally this bloody ordeal was over.