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CHAPTER 1

Genevieve

I blamed Krispy Kreme donuts for every decision I’d made in the last three years.

Both good and bad.

If the company hadn’t put up a store, albeit a tiny one near my apartment that was blocks away from Columbia University, then I likely wouldn’t be sitting here in this plush chair.

If my bodyguard, a brute of a man who scared almost everyone because of the jagged scar that ran all the way from his jaw to just under his left eye, hadn’t indulged me all hours of the night by purchasing crullers and tall black coffees, then maybe I would have snagged that sweet condo on the upper East side.

And lost it based on decisions made after a sugar rush.

If my best girlfriend hadn’t unknowingly entered me into a contest whereby the winner received a dozen glazed donuts every week for a year, then I wouldn’t have aced my finals.

Or passed the bar in one attempt.

At this moment, I wasn’t certain whether to love or hate the sweet treats.

Because of a sugary high mixed with red wine, a dangerous combination, I’d accepted my father’s third attempt at luring me back home.

Not just for a visit.

Oh, no.

For a position within his company.

He’d even baited a lure with promises of a huge salary, tremendous benefits, an apartment in the city, and perks to die for.

The last one might be literal given my father’s profession.

Although his pledge hadn’t included my beloved donuts.

I’d likely be the first in line when a brand-new store in Madrid opened later in the year.

The gangly girl with sheer determination and crazy defiance who’d left Barcelona for the bright lights of the big city of New York wasn’t the somewhat sophisticated woman who’d returned.

Maybe sophisticated was pushing it. I’d flown home in torn jeans, flip-flops, and sporting a New York Knicks sweatshirt.

My father had been horrified.

After a whirlwind decision, here I sat in front of floor-to-ceiling glass peering at the strangest artwork I’d ever seen in my life, wishing I was back in my apartment watchingMiami Vicereruns with a bowl full of buttery popcorn. Those were the good ole days.

There was a beautiful teak desk with a matching credenza. Two leather chairs in front with a stunning display of artwork off to the side in the hues I preferred. Reds and purples with black as the background. Bold. Daring.

Dangerous.

There were sweeping views of Barcelona from windows aligning two walls, a fully stocked bar and refrigerator offering several libations if I deemed my guests’ visits worthy. I had a car and a strangely attractive but scary new driver, my former bodyguard returned to his old status as the family commander. I knew what that meant and Emiliano should finally be happy he was able to slice and dice just like he used to.

I could envision the trail of blood he’d leave throughout the city.

Groaning, I leaned back in my seat, folding my arms behind my head, keeping the practiced smile on my face. I wanted to be happy. I really did.

It was too bad my stomach hadn’t accepted the invitation to the party. Even my intestines were doing somersaults with Metallica music in the background.

My father had outdone himself in bribing me to return home. After some arm twisting, I’d agreed to take over as the family corporation’s attorney after the previous one had been fired for insubordination.

The truth was much uglier, the stupid man found embezzling funds from the family coffers. If I knew my father, that meantthe man had been left to rot on the front lawn of his mistress’ classic estate, bleeding all over her velvety yellow begonias.