Page 21 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 1

I’d thought losing my parents in that plane crash was the worst thing that could have ever happened to me.

Wrong.

The final blow had been finding my best friend in the entire world fucking my fiancée the night of our rehearsal dinner. A dinner that was already grief-stricken because our parents—mine and my best friend’s—weren’t in attendance after perishing together.

That was the day I knew that none of it mattered. All I’d worked for was gone. The years I’d spent building unshakable trust in a personobliterated. Brenden was not only my partner in business, he’d also been a man I thought of as a brother. We’d been through school, family gatherings, birthdays, holidays, and heartbreak together.

All for what?

Then there was Bianca. When we met, I’d been convinced she was a unicorn. An ethereal creature who’d entered my life on a rainbow of color. Beautiful, intelligent, sexy as sin, and great in bed. From the first day I’d been taken by her charms. Befuddled into believing I was her everything. The voodoo that woman pulled over me was unmatched by any cutthroat businessperson I’d faced before. She chopped up my heart with a machete and never looked back.

The wound Brenden and Bianca created in my soul might never close. It went that deep. Festering and puss filled. I prodded at it often. Tortured myself with thoughts of what might have been if my parents hadn’t died. Would she and Brenden have betrayed me otherwise? How long had they been seeing one another behind closed doors with me none the wiser?

All of these questions, however, didn’t mean shit. Especially once the two eloped shortly after Bianca was supposed to marry me. I’d given that woman eighteen months of my life. Asked her to be my wife on our first anniversary. We were to be wed six months later. But the night before…

I slammed my hand down on the desk before me, forcing myself to push the nasty thoughts aside. As I rubbed at my throbbing temples, a soft knock rattled against the door before Muriel, my assistant, popped her gray-haired head in.

“Mr. Falco, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got an urgent message for you from a woman named Alana Toussaint.”

I frowned hearing the name. Alana was a family friend of Lewis and Rachel Myers, Brenden and Julianne’s parents who’d died right alongside my parents.Best friends for life,they’d always said. Even in the end that held true. Unfortunately, the same didn’t hold for the relationships their children had built.

“What’s the message, Muriel?”

“It was kind of cryptic actually. She simply said to check your email, and upon receiving it to enter a code that she’s texting to your phone. Claims it’s information you and only you need to see.” She shrugged.

I sighed, my bones feeling weighed down as I slumped back into my leather chair.

“Thank you. I’ll take a look.” I waved Muriel off and she slipped out of my home office at the lake house, where I’d been holding court and hiding for the better part of two months.

Sometimes I’d sit in the library, reading through tome after tome until I’d lose myself in another world. It was easier than facing reality. Other times I’d set myself up in the small kitchen nook while my chef prepped meals. Having people around who I trusted to keep my whereabouts a secret was imperative. My staff was also amazing at coexisting without endless unnecessary small talk. I wanted to be around people—I was a human who needed the presence of others—but not the kind that was overwhelmingly in my face. Just gentle sharing of space was what I expected, and my assistant, my chef, my personal trainer, and housekeeper understood that need. Besides, the house on Saranac Lake in upstate New York, was massive and had a guesthouse with several rooms for the people I’ve allowed into my circle of grief.

I didn’t know who I was anymore, and I needed the time and space to figure it out. Everything I’d known and understood to my core about where my life was headed and who would travel that path by my side had been shaken. Destroyed by the worst possible betrayal I could have ever imagined.

Not in a million years would I have believed that Brenden could be capable of such deception. And after the loss of our parents?

The fury, hurt, and disgust reared its ugly head, distracting me once more from the world around me. Until I heard a soft ping come from my cell phone.

I picked it up and glanced at the message. It was from Alana and simply stated JULIANNE.

Why the hell would she put Julianne’s name as a password?

Julianne was Brenden’s younger sister. A woman I admired and respected. She was an incredibly savvy businesswoman who knew the real estate sector inside and out. Her gifts with human resources and bringing in multimillion-dollar clientele were second to none. Not to mention she was funny. Almost cute with her zany, slapstick-style humor. Julianne also happened to be drop-dead gorgeous. Natural red hair that fell in thick waves around her porcelain-white skin. The freckles, though, stole my breath. Ever since I was a teenager, I’d had a crush on my best friend’s little sister, but she was the epitome of off-limits.

Brenden had made it clear that his sister was not a romantic option. He’d drawn a hard line, and I wasn’t to cross it. I think Brenden and I were about fifteen and Julianne thirteen when I really started to see her differently. Brenden started noticing the longing stares I’d give Jules. How I’d tease her endlessly about her freckles even though I wanted nothing more than to play connect the dots across them with my lips. Pay homage to everysprinkle and dot across her pert nose. Run my fingers through that mass of silky, fiery strands.

Julianne represented the one thing I could never have. And because I was a genuine guy, a true best friend to Brenden, I’d pushed my interest aside. Fell in and out of relationships with women over the years like any young man. Until Bianca.

Bianca had swooped into my life and taken it over. I’d been smitten with her. I would have done just about anything to see her happy and now that was Brenden’s job. He’d stolen her right out from under me.

My blood boiled as I glared at the message on my phone, considering just calling Alana and getting to the bottom of whatever it was she wanted to share. And yet something told me to open the email first. Evaluate the information and then make the call.

I opened my laptop, signed into my email, and waited while the damn thing presented the hundreds of messages I’d ignored over the past couple months while I was lost to my grief.

The top email was from Alana Toussaint. I clicked on it and read the paragraph.

Giovanni,

I’m deeply sorry to intrude on your time away. I understand and share in the great loss you’ve experienced. However, a situation has come to my attention I knew you’d want to be apprised of. As you know, I run The Marriage Auction. A candidate has entered who I cannot turn away for reasons that are my own. I will be hosting a private, five-bidder auction in two weeks’ time. Please review the attached candidate information.

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