1

Noah

HARRY CHAMBERLIN WAS a bastard. A cold-hearted, manipulative bastard who was still managing to run my life from six feet beneath the ground.

If that seemed harsh, it was his own fault. He was a man of little kindness or compassion; my father’s relationships had usually revolved around two things, business and intimidation, and if you were one of the unlucky ones, it was a mix of the two.

I, unfortunately, fell into that category. I’d even go out on a limb and say I had my very own “special” category. One that included threats and blackmail. One that had driven me from my hometown of Chamberlin, California so many years earlier, and had kept me from coming back until now—the day of his funeral.

His wake, actually. I’d missed the funeral. I’d say that was an accident when my mom asked, but it had been one hundred percent intentional. The idea of standing by Harry’s grave and watching the people of this town pretend they were sad to see him go was too much for me to stomach. Especially when all I wanted to do was celebrate his passing. Because to know Harry was to hate him—that was a fact. One he’d worked really hard to cultivate. So why deny him that pleasure now?

I stared through the black iron gates of the property and noted the cars filling the parking area and long drive that led up to the main building of the family business—the winery. It seemed as though everyone in town was behind those gates today, and once again I was standing outside of them.

Nothing had changed, from my situation to the winery inside. The rust-colored gravel still complemented the olive trees on either side of the entryway, and the opulent fountain at the front entrance bubbled and sparkled with fresh water under the sunlight. It was beautiful. But that was the Chamberlin way. Always putting up a good facade.

I drummed my fingers on the roof of my rental car and then made my way over to the gate to push it wide open. This was a bad idea for so many reasons, none of which included the sudden pain in my chest. But I’d be damned if I let Harry give me a heart attack. He’d already ruined my life once before. The last thing I’d do was give him the satisfaction of ending it too.