Page 12 of Stone
He laughed. “Nothing for you to worry about, son. As long as you don’t contact my daughter again, I don’t think we’ll have any problems.”
I gritted my teeth and glanced toward his vehicle. Even in the darkness, I could still see her face. The ache was terrible, my heart in my throat. What the hell could I say at this point?
He seemed to sense I was resigned to the unholy deal he thought we’d made. The fucker didn’t know me that well. As soon as I had everything figured out, I planned on asking Dani to marry me. And there would be nothing the asshole could do about it.
“Good luck, son. I’m certain you’ll need it.” Bradford clapped me on the shoulder before turning away.
“You might think of yourself as a powerful man, Mr. Vale. You’ve certainly enjoyed stepping on people along the way. I suppose you think you’re a great man, but I’m here to tell you something. My father did the best he could. Sure, we grew up in a trailer and sometimes we didn’t have a lot of food to eat. Forget about Christmas. There was no money for presents, but he always provided what I needed. He never let me down. He never condescended to me for a single decision I made and told me often he was proud of me. My father is truly a great man, Mr. Vale. Not you. I will promise you this. We will meet again. One day there will come a time when we’ll meet and, on that day, I will have the pleasure of punching you in the face for insulting my family.”
He had the balls to laugh at me.
With a smile on my face, I waited as he walked away. Still feeling good about himself. Still acting as if his shit didn’t stink.
I remained where I was, refusing to allow the vile man to run me off.
Only when the taillights of their vehicles faded in the distance did I finally slump against the side of the truck. I was so tense and so angry I couldn’t think clearly.
The ache was real and so painful.
Somehow, I feared I’d never see her again.
But a promise had been made and I planned on doing everything in my power to keep it.
As soon as I climbed into my truck, I slammed my fists against the steering wheel and dropped my head. A single tear fell. My life was about to change.
Because I’d be without the woman I loved.
CHAPTER 4
Twenty years later…
Paris, France
Daniella
“It’s almost closing time,” Colette said in her singsong voice as she pivoted around the counter, flitting her long fingers through the dresses that still needed to be hung in inventory.
“You’re in a wonderful mood tonight.” I glanced at my watch, thankful the last two hours hadn’t crawled by as they had the night before. And the night before that. Doux et Sensuel had once been the most sought-after ladies’ clothing boutique in Paris. That had been years before.
Now we were lucky to break even. At this rate, the owner would need to lay off at least two or three employees. I had a terrible feeling I’d been on top of the list since the older Parisian woman didn’t like me very much.
“I am,” she breathed and turned in a full circle.
Colette, my oldest and my most trusted friend since moving to Paris years before was like a butterfly in spring. Always flitting around. Always eager for the next day. If only I could feel the same, carefree and on top of the world.
“Okay, girl. Spill it. Why?”
“I have a date tonight.”
“You do, huh? What lucky man is it tonight?”
She tossed me a look before grabbing a handful of dresses. “He’s an architect. We hit it off over the phone then went out for coffee. You would love him.”
I laughed and checked the time again. Two minutes before I could lock the doors. All I wanted was to head home, grab a glass of wine, and try to finish the painting I’d been working on for two weeks. Longer than normal. As one of few commissioned pieces, I had a deadline that was fast looming. “Sounds perfect.”
Plus, I had a chance, albeit a small one of obtaining a gallery tour that would take me from London to Milan, Barcelona to the South of France. It would be a dream come true. I simply needed to buckle down and paint my heart out.
“Speaking of which. When are you going to go out on a date?” Her French accent sounded more like a purr, more so when she was chiding me about my lack of dating experience.
