Chapter 1
Sebastian
When I close my eyes, I hear it—the sound of everything that I’ve built with my own fierce willpower, relentless charm, and encompassing intellect.
The cheery voice of my secretary floats through my closed office door, muffled by the heavy mahogany wood. No doubt it’s yet another investor eager to jump in on my substantial profits. Behind me, the skyline of New York City rises, the other skyscrapers dwarfed by the one that I had built for my company. Our popularity has been steadily rising, as has our stock value and clientele.
Most people assume that I've grown up with wealth or that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. They’re quick to believe that I had a rich father who passed along a huge bank account or trust fund accumulated from generation to generation, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. My mother was a nurse and my father an alcoholic. Now my mother is retired on the huge estate I purchased for her and God only knows where my father wound up.
I'm not angry at him for the life he never provided for me or my sister, not anymore. If anything, I'm grateful.
Spurred on by the conviction to be nothing like my father and to provide for my family in a way that he never did, at only twenty-eight I'm the CEO of one of the most profitable and promising technology firms in existence. Companies all over the nation—all over the world, even—sit with our tech on their desks.
I worked myself to the bone to get where I am today. All throughout school, I studied and toiled away while my classmates goofed off. With their nuclear families and doting parents, they had no reason to dedicate themselves as heartily as I did to my schooling. Even as a child I knew that I had to get scholarships if I wanted to go anywhere in life. By the time I'd completed elementary school, winning science fairs and math leagues, I'd been granted a full ride scholarship to a renowned junior high school, which thrust me into an even more renowned high school, and finally to an ivy league college. I started my tech firm as a freshman in college, pairing with a local distributor and selling specialized calculators to my classmates. I've come a long way since then.
My modesty prevents me from saying that I'm rolling in dough, but I'm rolling in serious dough.
Abruptly, my cell vibrates in the breast pocket of my pressed black suit. With a sigh, I lean back and slide it out to inspect the bright LED screen.
Clara, it announces. A photo of my little sister’s beaming face gazes up at me. She’d set the picture herself last summer when I took her and our mother on a cruise to the Caribbean. She said it was too impersonal for me not to have a photo of her as the caller ID.
When I answer the call, I can hardly hear her over the commotion going on behind her.
“—have to have a vegetarian option tonight, Mom. Graham’s whole family is vegetarian. We’ll just have to tell the caterer to figure something out.”
“Clara?” I ask lightly, scooting my leather chair back to prop my freshly shined shoes up on the corner of my uncluttered desk. “What’s going on?”
“Huh?” she mumbles, like she’s forgotten she was on the phone. “Oh! Hey, Bash! You’re coming tonight, aren’t you?”
“Miss my baby sister’s rehearsal dinner? Are you crazy?” I tease, shrewd business heart melting at the sound of her delighted laugh.
My whole life, all I've ever wanted is to make my mother and sister proud. They’re the only ones who mean anything to me, other than my tech firm.
“I just know how hard you work. I'd understand if something came up. I heard on the news that you have some big merger going on?”
“Not a chance. I can’t wait to celebrate with you and Graham.”
I still can’t believe my little sister is getting married. When I close my eyes, I still see her with bobbing pigtails and a chocolate milk mustache.
“And you know I can’t wait until I'm celebrating your wedding, too!” She laughs though her tone is deliberate.
She’s been gunning for the day I’ll find a nice girl and settle down, but we both know that’s not my style. I'm married to my career. I don’t have time for anything else, though a one-night stand here and there is certainly not off limits. Besides, marrying or getting serious about someone would be dangerous. I have a lot of property and a lot of cash under my belt, and I've heard too many horror stories about my successful friends settling down with women who only have green in their eyes. A bitter divorce six months later and they’ve got nothing left to their name. That won’t happen to me. I won’t give anyone the chance to dig for my gold.
“Is that all, Clara? I have to get back to work. I've got a meeting with my stockholders coming up that I need to prep for.”
“Oh please,” she says, a smirk audible in her voice though I can’t see her face. “Everyone knows you’re a shark. All you have to do is grin at your board and they all get weak in the knees.”
“I think you’re forgetting that you’re talking about sixty-year-old men here, not a flock of lonely housewives.”
“Is there really that much of a difference?” she teases before suddenly gasping. “Bash! I remember now why I called you. The cupcakes. You’re bringing them tonight, aren’t you?”
“Cupcakes?” I echo blankly, vaguely remembering some distant conversation she and I had over one too many glasses of Scotch where she explained that for the rehearsal dinner she and her husband-to-be had decided to go with the delicious little treats rather than an ornate rehearsal cake.
“Bash . . .” she murmurs warningly, “you told me that you were going to order them weeks ago. We have to have cupcakes—and we need that vegetarian option tonight for dinner too, Pierre!” she added desperately to the caterer who must be nearby, obvious stress cracking her voice.
“I've got it,” I answer smoothly despite my blood running cold. “I was just teasing you. Of course I ordered them.”
“You don’t tease a bride the day before her wedding, Bash!” Clara groans as the phone suddenly gives a faint whine, a strong clattering echoes through the speaker as it passed hands.
I grimace, holding it slightly back from my ear.
“Did I hear you saying you’re teasing your sister?” Mom accuses, her voice as melodic and playfully biting as Clara’s. “She has enough stress on her plate. Getting married is a big deal, not that you’ll ever have to deal with that I suppose.”
Those two were like peas in a pod, all big blue eyes and light hair, hung up on romance. I'm the opposite, taking much more after my father to my own disdain. I share his cold metal eyes, dark hair and distrust. In all the pictures of my sister, myself, and our mother, I stick out like a sore thumb. Even as a young teen I towered over both of their petite figures. I guess I'd been born to be their protector.
The phone rustles as my mother travels further away from Clara and the business of the rehearsal dinner setup. A door swings open and slams shut, faint music and voices melting away.
“You didn’t forget the cupcakes, did you?” Mom asks, “You know how important this is to Clara. She’s been dreaming about this day since . . . well, since we realized that if we wanted to wait for you to get married we’d have to wait until hell freezes over.”