Chapter 1 - THE MAN WITH THE CANE
The woman in gold came out of the mud screaming.
“My face!”
Nobody moved.
“My dress!”
That got a few people moving.
Not to help her.
To keep filming.
Her name was Celeste Harrow.
Twenty-nine years old.
Daughter of Victor Harrow, CEO of Harrow Crest Hotels.
Fiancée of Adrian Cross, the man hosting the engagement weekend at Blackthorn Estate.
And, until thirty seconds earlier, the woman who believed everyone on the terrace existed beneath her.
I stood beside my father.
My cheek burned where she had slapped me.
My scalp hurt where she had grabbed my braid.
Dad’s hand shook around his cane.
“Lena,” he whispered.
“I’m okay.”
He looked at the mud below.
“I wasn’t asking about you.”
That almost made me laugh.
Celeste climbed the stone steps with mud dripping from her gold dress.
“You psycho!”
She lunged toward me.
Security intercepted her.
“Get your hands off me!”
Adrian finally appeared.
Tall.
Perfect tuxedo.
The kind of face luxury magazines liked.
He looked at Celeste.
Then at me.
Then at my father.
“What happened?”
Celeste pointed at me.
“She attacked me!”
A dozen phones were still recording.
I said nothing.
Dad did.
“She slapped my daughter.”
Celeste laughed.
“Who are you?”
Dad looked at her for a long second.
“Someone you should have let finish his coffee.”
A few guests snorted.
Celeste’s face went red.
Adrian tried to calm her.
Then Victor Harrow stormed onto the terrace.
He took one look at his daughter and shouted.
“Who did this?”
Celeste pointed.
Victor came toward me.
Dad stepped between us.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Victor stopped.
Not because of the cane.
Because he recognized him.
His face emptied.
“Mr. Mercer?”
The terrace went silent again.
Dad gave a small nod.
Victor’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Celeste looked between them.
“Dad?”
Victor whispered.
“Elias Mercer.”
My father.
The retired founder of Mercer Dominion.
The man whose private investment group owned the debt beneath Harrow Crest Hotels.
The man Victor had spent six months begging to meet.
Celeste laughed nervously.
“So?”
Dad looked at her ruined dress.
Then at Victor.
“Your daughter asked whether we knew what her dress cost.”
He tightened his hand on the cane.
“I know what your company costs.”
May you like
Victor went white.
