Chapter 1
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, built Moreau Dynamics jointly 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.
Suddenly, I don't give a fuck about shaming Laurent anymore. All I care about is making his daughter mine...forever.
It's an unwelcome and inconvenient shock to my system.
This young woman, this symbol of the man I despise, is making me feel something I haven't felt before. Something dangerously close to compassion. To desire. To possession.
I need to get a handle on this, whatever this is, and fast.
Her gaze flickers, assessing me. She looks just as shocked as I feel, her tears stop as her mouth falls slightly open. Elena can't look away, and neither can I.
In what is surely less than a minute, I see the well-thought-out plans I made fall to pieces in my mind, and something new, something foreign to me, takes its place.
I am a Marchetti. I take what I want. When I want.
And I want Elena.
My mind races--this is a reckless, insane, emotionally-driven deviation from my plan, but suddenly I can't stomach the idea of this woman in a miserable marriage to a fossil, or humiliated when I tear her father down.
I can give her something else. Something real.
My mind races frantically as I think this through.
My revenge can wait. Laurent will suffer more, watching his daughter disappear into my world, than he would from a simple business deal falling through.
This is better. This is personal.
My decision is made in the space of a single heartbeat. I take a deliberate step forward, and the movement breaks the spell between us.
Elena flinches back, her hand flying to her throat. "Who are you?" Her voice is a shaky whisper, but she's trying so hard to sound steady.
"I'm Adrian. A friend, if you listen well." I move close enough to see the dusting of freckles across her nose. "I hate to see you out here crying, Elena. All alone."
Her chin lifts, a flash of pride showing through her distress. "I'm fine. It's just...cold feet."
"Or is it that you're marrying some old fuck when you're only twenty-four?
In the prime of your life, but relegated to nothing but a pawn in your father's schemes.
" I grin, and I know it looks sharper than I intend, but it's too late.
I'm enjoying this too much. "Good thing I'm here to change that.
" I don't wait for a reply, reaching out to grab her bare arm.
Her soft skin makes my mouth water, even as she tries to pull away.
"Let go," she hisses. “You…”
"Not a chance, princess." I tug her gently towards the shadows at the edge of the patio, her heels clicking against the flagstones as she stumbles along beside me, her wide eyes fixed on my face.
"Who are you? What do you want?" she repeats, her voice a little stronger this time. "My father is Laurent Moreau."
"I know exactly who your father is," I say, my voice low.
"And I know exactly what he's done. Now you're going to come with me, because that bastard owes me something, and I've chosen what the payment is going to be.
You." I'm moving us quickly, my long legs eating up the ground.
I don't care if her shoes get ruined. She won't be needing them where we're going.
I steer her towards a service gate I'd noticed as my car swung around the ornate fountain on the driveway in front of the mansion on my way in, one that leads out into the woods beside the estate.
"My dress...," she whispers, looking down at the expensive silk of her gown. “…Stop!” She’s terrified and grasping at anything she can think of that might encourage me to let her go.
"Forget the dress. I'll buy you ten of them when we get where we're going. Now walk, or I'm going to carry you."
Her resistance falters for a second before she hurries forward, and I use her confusion to pull her faster. I take out my phone, juggle it with one hand, sending a quick encrypted message to my driver to meet me now. He’ll see and track my location.
Once we're deep enough into the woods that we can no longer hear the string quartet or the murmur of the party, I finally stop.
I turn to face her, my hand still wrapped firmly around her arm.
She looks up at me, her blue eyes wide and luminous in the dappled moonlight.
She's stopped fighting me, but she's not submitting either.
She's a caged animal, her eyes darting left and right, waiting for her chance to escape.
Unable to resist, I gently swipe a thumb over her flushed cheek, taking an errant tear away with the caress, "I'm not going to hurt you.
But we've got a long trip ahead of us, and this will go a lot easier if you don't fight.
" My other hand rests possessively on her waist, pulling her flush against me, feeling the soft curves of her body against the hard planes of my own.
It sends a bolt of pure possessiveness coursing straight through me.
"I'm not going to just let you kidnap me!" It's a valiant effort, but she's wasting her breath. "My father will hunt you to the ends of the earth. He will, he’ll find you, he’ll hurt you”
Chuckling, I let my hand drift to the back of her neck, making her suck in a breath. "I hope he does. I want him to know it's me who has taken you. Laurent will find I'm not as easily fucked over as my father."