Page 1 of Forbidden Kiss

Chapter 1

Ethan

AsIscanthelavish auction floor of The Blake South Strip hotel, I notice the wealthy elite of Vegas admiring the art pieces on display.

Despite my lack of artistic talent, each art piece enthralls me with its own story. A watercolor image of a mystical woman and a child sitting by a tranquil river catches my attention. With its intricate details, the vibrant landscape image jumps off the canvas and sears into my mind.

My art investor brother, Tristan, undoubtedly brought it here, just as he has displayed countless others before. His keen interest in landscape art shows no bounds. Strangely, the paintings always remind me of our twisted family legacy, a foundation built on obsession and control.

Art auctions are not my usual scene, but I’ve made it my mission to bring new clientele to hungry casinos. All the deals between my billion-dollar entertainment company and high-end casino partners have proven successful, but I want more.

Better opportunities mean more money—something I can always get behind. But finding worthy allies is hard. I’ve been betrayed before, and it left a nasty, oozing scar.

As I continue to survey the room, a deep, familiar voice pulls me from my thoughts.

“Ethan.” My brother’s voice cuts through the low hum of the crowd. Tristan’s towering height looms over me, his intense amber eyes mirroring mine. With his broad shoulders, he stretches the seams of his tailored suit, revealing a glimpse of his toned physique underneath. He exudes an air of brooding masculinity, with chiseled features and tousled dark hair that only adds to the charm. He stands beside an older, graying man who seems oddly familiar.

“Christopher Lane has asked to meet you.” Tristan steps aside to reveal a refined man of quiet power.

In a silent greeting, Christopher Lane tips his head, his hollow eyes meeting mine. I don’t bother with formalities—public encounters like this often mean dealing with people who seek my wealth to elevate their own status. In Lane’s case, I recognize the name. He’s the owner of a struggling entertainment company, a minor player with a small market share in Vegas. He reeks of desperation.

I suppress a yawn as I continue to scan the crowd. “What can I do for you, Mr. Lane?”

“I’ve come with an opportunity.” His raspy voice has an urgent tone.

My gaze wanders again. “I’m all ears.”

“I’d like you to take over Lane Entertainment Group,” he says. “Just say the word, and I’ll hand it over to you.”

An alarm goes off in my brain. Scam. Most likely a scam. Definitely a scam. I turn to leave, dismissing him over my shoulder. “Not interested. Good luck.”

“This is a deal you cannot refuse,” he calls after me, agony squirming into his voice. “Consider me motivated.”

I straighten my back, curiosity piqued. Out of sheer boredom, I decide to entertain the offer that sounds like a free timeshare no one wants. “I’d be a motivated seller if I owned your company, too.” It’s the truth, and I don’t bother hiding it. “What kind of deal are we talking—”

“We have venues,” he interjects, clipping off the end of my last sentence. “They alone will fetch you millions per year. Each one. They’re yours. Free. Just take over my expenses and debt.”

He has my attention. To secure venues has been a challenge for my media company. They’re hard to get at a good price. Only thing is, Christopher Lane’s theaters are most likely old crap.

No matter how hard I try to hide my skepticism, I can’t. “If your venues are giving you millions, why would you want to get rid of them?”

His lips tighten. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Okay then. Enjoy your evening.” I turn away once more.

“Mr. Wolfe. Wait.” He flattens his lips, his eyes pleading. “It’s obvious the company is lagging. I’m up to my neck in bills trying to hang on to this thing. You know the business inside and out, so I’m asking for your help.”

I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, let’s say I help. What would you get out of this?”

“Legacy. I’m tired of being the owner of a failing company. It’s embarrassing. My dignity is gone, and I can’t keep doing this. All I ask is that you keep the Lane Entertainment Group name and do better than I’ve done.”

It’s not adding up. “If there’s so muchlegacyat stake, where are your heirs? What are they doing to help?”

“Nothing,because I have no sons. I have only one daughter and she’s incapable.” His lips press together in a slight grimace. “She’s the creative type, hardly the mind for business.”

His dismissive statement about his daughter bothers me more than I care to admit. I picture a poor, grungy girl burdened with a disapproving father like him. The image stirs something within me, a protective instinct.

Tension stiffens my hands. “So, you can’t run your company, but you believe your daughter should be able to do your job just fine?”

---