“I’m going to do exactly what I said I would do.” Her resolve hardened as she jabbed the button for the elevator. “I’m taking Mama’s money out of this place.”
“Mira—”
“Do whatever you have to, Axel.” She threw the words at him in a voice scraped ragged. “I know you want Vorstoben. I won’t blame you for trying to get it.”
He deserved to take over the company. He had put more effort and years of loyalty into its success than she had. It wasn’t fair to punish him for Otto’s machinations, butI want to hurt him the way he has hurt me.
“All of this came at a cost to me.” She whirled her hand in the air to indicate the company’s standing as a top global enterprise. “Not just my money, butme.” Otto had been unrelentingly awful toward her. “I don’t care what happens to it. Not anymore. In fact, I will do everything I can to destroy it.”
She ignored the way Axel’s mouth tightened and then she stepped into the elevator.
She went straight to the trustee who still administered her mother’s estate. He saw her immediately, despite his full calendar. That’s how much her mother’s fortune was worth.
“I want to cut all ties with Vorstoben,” she said as she sat down. “Pull it all. I don’t care what it costs.”
“That seems rash. Shall I call your father?” He reached for his phone.
It was another slap in the face, but something that she should have seen ages ago. All these years she had believed her trustee was in her corner, but, of course, he was in Otto’s pocket.
“No. And I see I must move my holdings out ofyourcare as well.”
He blustered as she rose, but she left, driven by outrage and a need to avenge herself.
The next morning, she sat down with her new advisor at a competing firm. They were very happy to take custody of her fortune and promised to pull the supports her mother’s assets had provided to Vorstoben.
“It will take time. Bureaucracy.” Her new advisor shrugged with apology. “I will cancel all the bookings in Praiano, though. The villa will be fully available to you within a day or so, if you wish to take a few days to absorb all of this.”
There were costs to canceling the reservations for this coming season, but Mira didn’t care about penalties. She was taking financial hits across the board and viewed it as the cost of a divorce her mother should have sought. No price was too high to sever ties with the man who had never been a father to her.
She flew to Italy, not realizing that the action of going to the trustee’s competitor had planted a seed in her brain, one that sprouted when she arrived at the villa.
After being used as a short-stay rental for years, the house was run-down and showing its age. It looked the way Mira felt—neglected and abused. She couldn’t stay in it, but when she asked a property agent to recommend a contractor to refurbish it, he pointed her to the local office of the Salerno Projects Group.
“Gruppo Progetti Salerno,” he said in Italian. “It’s the best.”
GPS. Owned by Rocco DeStefano.
Mira’s hatred for one man collided with her hatred of another.
She was still furious with Rocco for London. She still felt a fool for believing he had been attracted to her. For allowing him to touch her so intimately. For the last three years, she had existed in a state of dread, convinced he would use her behavior to humiliate her. The entire episode had kept her encased in ice.
That’s why she’d agreed to marry Axel. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with men after Rocco had toyed with her so heartlessly. Axel had been clear that their engagement was a business arrangement. He had been as aloof and disinterested in intimacy as she was.
Mira had seen Rocco exactly four times since that day in London. Each time, it had been at a gala or other high-profile event. Her only consolation had been the fact that she had looked her best, always in a gown with full hair and makeup. Always on Axel’s arm, wearing Axel’s ring.
Infuriatingly, Rocco could still make her skin to prickle with awareness. Each time, she had felt that sensation and glanced up to find him staring at her.
Each time, a jolt of awareness had stricken her chest, quickly followed by a curdle of mortification in her stomach.
“Can we go?” she had always asked Axel.
She and Axel had never talked about London. They had never been in love. They had been friendly more than friends, respectful of each other and only engaged for the promises Otto had made them.
With a flick of his glance at Rocco, Axel had always accommodated her with a murmuredof course, before he spirited her away.
ShehatedRocco DeStephano.
But if she wanted vengeance, she might as well go to someone who was good at it.
