The Ruined Bride (Fruit of Temptation)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

SOPHIE

“Your offer is more than tempting, but my daughter’s engagement to the Bellamys is finalized.”

I stopped in front of the massive wooden door of Papa’s office, my hand reaching for the metal handle. Though I couldn’t see who his guest was, the tiny gap was enough for the sound to slip through.

If someone was imagining they could possibly meddle in my sister’s wedding, I could only wish them good luck.

“Pardon me. I wasn’t talking about Mark’s fiancée.” An unfamiliar voice chuckled.

Maybe if I came back after lunch, Papa would be free. Not that my questions were something urgent. So I turned around, ready to step away, when the man’s following words nailed me to the ground.

“Your eldest daughter. I heard her engagement to Edmond Renier has ended.”

I squinted as light crept over my face. The midsummer sun had no mercy. Yet what was this ache slipping into my chest?

The knowledge of my engagement being broken wasn’t new.

Not after the whispers and rumors of me being kidnapped.

Perhaps if they were some criminals whose sole purpose was to get some money or a deal from the Moreaus, my reputation would not be ruined.

But one of the three people involved was the beloved son of the Durets.

A family with similar status to the Moreaus.

At least back then. Everyone in our circle knew what that meant.

That was five years ago. And this man, sitting in my father’s office and claiming he’d only just heard my engagement was null, was ridiculous.

“My eldest daughter?” Papa’s voice was full of suspicion.

“Sophie,” the man answered without hesitation.

My palms turned cold and clammy as I clenched my fists. Hearing my name like that felt strange.

“I’m unsure I can accept your offer.”

The corner of my mouth curved.

This wasn’t the first time someone had asked for my hand. Many suggested they’d claim me and take the shame from the Moreau family. I knew of at least six. All of them burned with the desire to climb, to seize power so desperately that even a crumbling ladder wouldn’t deter them.

And to them, I was that crumbling ladder—damaged, overused, all the shameful words people whispered about me.

Though Papa had never agreed. It could have been that I’d never taken off Edmond’s ring, or that Edmond was still insisting on waiting.

I wasn’t sure.

What I was sure of—this time was no different.

“Give it due consideration, Mr. Moreau. We’d both benefit from this marriage.”

Papa exhaled. “It’s no secret Moreau’s stocks are declining.”

My breath hitched. I knew how stressed Papa was.

He’d closed two of his companies in the holding.

That’s why I came. Not that I believed I could change anything overnight—not with my inexperience and fear of leaving the estate.

But I had the theory down. Was ready for practice.

And I could work from my room if only Papa agreed.

But then, who was I lying to… I twisted my ring, steadying myself.

There was no reason for me to stay and eavesdrop. Not like my marriage would bring anything significant to my family for Papa to consider it. Only…

“An alliance with you would benefit me a lot.”

The soft rasp of a lighter carried across the room. Papa always lit a cigarette when facing a hard decision. My heart dropped as his following words came with quiet precision.

“In fact, it would solve many of Moreau Holdings’ problems. Open some doors in Eastern Europe.”

Was this man from the East? He didn’t have an accent, so I supposed he was from Montvarra, or another Central European country. Yet when he spoke again, I still couldn’t detect an Eastern accent.

“I have connections there, yes. But I assure you, that’s the least I can do.”

My chest tightened. He was surely from Montvarra! But who? There were only a few families whose support would serve Papa. None who would consider me a suitable bride.

Wasn’t he afraid of all the labels that would come with me? The newspapers might be full of talk about the new millennium and a changing world, but for families like mine, reputation still mattered.

A soft chime of glass carried at the same time as Papa’s following words. “And what do you want in exchange?”

“I told you—business benefit.”

“Business benefit?” Papa let out a chuckle. “You think marrying her would help you clear your name?”

What was he talking about? Had Papa confused clean with taint?

As the man cleared his throat, the leather creaked—he’d shifted in his seat.

The grain of the wood dragged across my cheek, and my heart lurched when I realized how close I’d come. I forced myself to step back and steady my breathing.

“My name doesn’t affect Rowks Holding’s stock.”

Rowks? The air left my lungs, burning through my chest and throat on its way out. No, no. I closed my eyes, shaking my head—I must have misheard. There was only one person with that surname, and he would never be an expected guest in my father’s office.

“What does affect it is the lack of alliances. And you’d agree that’s precisely what I need.”

“And what stands between you and gaining any alliances are the rumors that follow you, Viktor.”

“Fair.”

He was indeed Viktor Rowks. The one who was friends with them. The one they’d called, asking to join. He didn’t appear.

But…

I looked up, trying to ignore the sting in my eyes, and clenched my teeth.

How dare he come and ask for my hand?

“And fair you don’t expect me to forget that one of those rumors concerns my daughter?”

“I thought we’d established I had no involvement in what happened—when you let me walk out alive.”

“Only, and only, because Korolyov was on my throat.”

“Forgive me for involving my cousin. Keeping your son off my back and the Reniers’ lawyers away from my inheritance at twenty-four wasn’t exactly simple.”

“She’ll be twenty-four next month. The same age at which you claim you ‘couldn’t manage.’ Consider how that sounds.”

Leather creaked again. He shifted once more. Exhaled.

I swallowed, furious with myself for waiting. Yet I couldn’t move.

“How is she doing?”

Papa’s lighter flicked several times. “Good.”

“Does she leave her room?”

My temples pulsed. Of course, he’d heard. Everyone had.

“Your information is outdated. Though she prefers privacy.” Another flick of his lighter. “She’s doing much better now. But no need to pretend you care about that.”

“Considering I came with a proposal…”

“Which is strictly business. Let’s not play games here.” Papa’s voice turned low, sharp. “Most men in my position would accept without hesitation. But my daughter is not a bargaining chip. So, let me make it clear. Even if I were on the verge of bankruptcy, I would not sacrifice her peace.”

My throat tightened at his words.

“Why assume this would cost her peace?” The man’s voice lowered. “We both know that soon you’ll get proposal after proposal.”

“Spare me the flattery,” Papa cut in, probably narrowing his eyes.

The man chuckled. “All I mean is, out of all the proposals you’ll get, I’m the only one who knows from experience how hard it is to maintain an empire. I need alliances. And alliances require work. I’m willing to do that work.

“You mentioned peace. I’ll make sure she has it.

Prefers privacy? Then that’s the easiest thing I can offer.

” A piece of furniture scraped with a faint sound.

“There are no in-laws to bother her. And with me at the office most days, the estate would be hers entirely. Not to mention my frequent business trips.” A glass clinked against the table.

“Speaking of which, I have to attend a joint-venture meeting in Graz. It’ll take a couple of weeks. Enough to… consider things?”

“Graz?” Papa’s voice was knowing. “Acquiring that Austrian company?”

“Among other matters.” Rowks’ footsteps moved toward the door. “Until then, Mr. Moreau.”

I took a few steps back but didn’t try to hide. Perhaps it was adrenaline, or the urge to look into his eyes. To prove something. So when the wooden door opened, I held my head high.

“Miss.” He gave me a slight bow.

I tried not to react, but failed—my lips trembled, and the hairs on my arms stood on end the same way they had every time we’d met at events.

The last was over five years ago. He looked different now, yet there was no mistaking him.

Same slim build, sharp nose, and dark brown eyes, with calculated intensity.

Though unlike his younger self, he styled his black hair more neatly.

My ring finger itched, and I reached for it, lowering my gaze. Who knew the emerald stone was this fascinating?

Coward, I cursed myself and forced my chin up to look back at him.

“Blue suits your eyes,” he murmured, nodding toward my dress.

His lips moved again, but the heartbeat pounding in my ears drowned out whatever he said. I blinked hard, and by the time my vision cleared, he had vanished down the hallway.

“Dove?” Papa stood in the doorway.

I held up my hands as he stepped closer, warning him back, and took a few breaths to make the ringing fade.

“I—” I swallowed, unsure what to say.

“You don’t need to worry. I will not agree.” Papa’s voice was reassuring.

I wanted to say thank you. But all I managed was a shake of my head before turning back.

At least everyone else was at the afternoon tea, which saved me the headache of managing their reactions when I couldn’t even manage my own.