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ADRIAN
My return to New York City should feel triumphant, but instead it just feels hollow.
Doesn’t matter. Not at all.
Because I’ve come back to the United States with one goal in mind—to ruin Laurent Moreau's life.
And I’m not leaving till it’s done.
I've spent so long planning, gathering information and waiting until the right moment to strike, so when I intercepted an invitation to Laurent's daughter Elena's pre-wedding dinner and rehearsal, the final piece fell into place.
I have no idea if Elena knows why she's marrying the billionaire, certainly not for love, but what I have discovered is that her groom, Charles Beaumont, also has no idea his new bride's family business is nearly bankrupt. Beaumont thinks he's getting a hot young bride and merging two successful families, not signing up to bail out her father’s marooned and sinking business,Moreau Dynamics.
So my plan is simple: swoop in, inform Beaumont about the shame befalling his bride's family and the dire state of their finances, and watch as Laurent's last chance to keep his business afloat falls to pieces before his eyes. Even as hollow as I currently feel, the idea still brings a cruel smile to my face.
Revenge served cold, and cruel. Oh, I've been waiting so long for this.
As my jet circles down and hits the runway, I open the leather folder with all my damning evidence against the Moreau family. Within the hour, I, Adrian Marchetti, will finally have my revenge.
The revenge my father should have lived to see.
But my brilliant father, Lorenzo Marchetti, the first of the Marchetti family to try and make his way out of the crime empire our family had built over generations, was instead betrayed by Laurent Moreau. Lorenzo was forced to return to the dark and dangerous world he'd hoped to escape.
I was raised under the heavy hand of the Marchetti crime family, and eventually grew to lead it. My father never wanted this for me. He died young, and as far as I was concerned, his blood was on Laurent Moreau's hands.
It’s all here in this folder--the renewable energy patents Laurent stole from my father and fraudulently sold off as his own. The transcripts and filings that showed how my father and Laurent, university classmates, builtMoreau Dynamicsjointly before the betrayal. And all the financial details revealing how deeply Laurent's poor management and bad investments had plunged his business into debt. Debt he hoped to escape by marrying his beautiful daughter off to Charles Beaumont.
Lorenzo had considered Laurent a friend, the business side of their joint venture, while Lorenzo handled the inventions and technologies. Laurent had stolen everything, become a millionaire, and driven my father to ruin.
My father, unlike the rest of us, was a creator. A dreamer. A gentle, kind man.
But his son is not.
Once on the ground, I give my driver the address of the Moreau estate just outside the city, where the rehearsal dinner is being held. In the pocket of my suit is a copy of the invitation, forged from the one I intercepted weeks ago, and it will be good enough to get me in the door. From there, I just have to choose the right moment to speak up and ruin everything.
Humiliate Laurent, and shame his family.
It's nearly dark by the time we make it through traffic and pull up to the sprawling Moreau estate. I exit at the front entrance, ignoring the valet as I approach the front door. There is someone checking names and invitations, and while he gives the falsified document I hand him a thorough look, he still steps aside to let me in.
"Mr. Marchetti. Welcome. Please, go right in. The cocktail hour has just begun."
Once inside, I see my timing is slightly off. It seems I'm early, but it doesn't matter. I just have to bide my time until everyone starts taking their seats. I can feel the leather folder tucked against my body under my suit coat, waiting like a time bomb, and I almost laugh to myself at how normal everything appears. Normal, high class, no one the wiser that all of Laurent's accounts are in the red.
Skirting the main hall, I cut through the hallways and make my way to the back entrance. The kitchen is buzzing with life, but there's a door leading out to the empty back patio.
It's a relief to be alone, but that relief is short-lived when I hear a muffled sob. I follow the sound around some manicured bushes and stop abruptly. I don't recognize her at first, but I've seen her sweet face enough in my research that it doesn't take me long to make the connection. It's Elena Moreau, the bride-to-be, crying to herself as if her heart is breaking.
In my plan she’s only supposed to be collateral damage and nothing more. This is proof to me that her heart is really not in this marriage.
Elena's head snaps up, her eyes wide as she quickly wipes her cheeks. She thought she was alone, and I'm ruining her moment of private misery. The weeping bride isn't expecting an audience.
And I'm not expecting what I felt when Elena's eyes meet mine.
I'd already known she was beautiful, but I've seen beautiful before. Elena practically glows, a heartbroken goddess. She's the most stunning creature on the planet, her caramel-kissed hair tumbles down her back, her heart-shaped face made even more interesting with her nose red and enormous blue eyes gone red from crying. And in that moment, I forget that I was about to ruin her life. Instead, I want to be the one to stop her tears.
It isn't just her beautiful face or her knockout curves that have me stricken, either. When I meet Elena's eyes, it feels like a sizzling connection flares to life between us.
