Page 2 of Betrayal (Corrupt Empire 1)

Chapter One

Avery

The sound of laughter rang through the kitchen as my mum prepared dinner and my father set the table. We last had a chance to do this months ago. Multi-billionaire parents with a huge global company to run meant I didn’t get to see them often.

“Sweetie, can you pass the pepper?” my mum, Kathleen, said.

I liked to help her cook. Ever since I’d been a kid. I grabbed the pepper grinder and tossed it to her. She grinned, her blue eyes glinting. I’d taken after my father in the looks department. Hazel eyes and dark hair, although my father’s was greying at the sides now. I told him it made him look distinguished.

Mitchell Daniels was head of Daniels Holdings. A company my great-grandfather built from the ground up, mostly dealing in property development. And little old me, the heir. I’m sure my father wished for a son, but he’d never made me feel inadequate for being a woman. Things between us were a little weird sometimes. Especially when it came to the company. I tried to avoid discussions about it with him these days.

“Dad, did Mum tell you I’m going to Antigua with Gert in a couple of weeks what with it being half term?”

“No. I’m sure sun, sea and sand is what both of you need,” he replied with a smile.

My best friend, Gertrude, was doing Management Science at UCL. I was studying Architecture. The only part of the property industry I had any interest in. I’d always been good at drawing. It was my real passion.

“James not going with you?” Mum asked.

“No, he’s got stuff with his dad.”

James Benson, the son of Zachary Benson, the famous, but reclusive designer and fashion mogul, was my other closest friend. We’d been inseparable growing up, always in and out of each other’s houses. His siblings were almost like the ones I’d never had.

“Avery, can you get the glasses out of the cupboard?” Dad asked.

I turned, going up on my tiptoes to reach the top shelf and pulled out three wine glasses. One slipped out of my hand and crashed to the floor.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mum said. “Just get the dustpan.”

I moved away, careful not to step in the glass with my bare feet and snagged it from under the sink. I bent down and started to sweep up.

“Don’t move an inch,” a deep voice I didn’t recognise said.

I looked up at Mum. Her face hardened. She mouthed to me ‘stay down’. My hands stilled.

“Walk around the counter slowly,” the voice said.

It sent a chill down my spine. Void of all emotion. Cold as steel.

Mum complied, sending me another warning look before she disappeared.

What is going on?

“You know why I’m here.”

“We can discuss this calmly like adults. Just put the gun down,” Dad said.

Gun. He has a gun. My heartbeat kicked up a notch. My palms began to sweat. Why did this stranger have a gun? And what did he want with my parents?

“Funny, Mitchell, you lost the right to negotiate the moment you took something that never belonged to you.”

Took what?

Nothing made sense. I needed to see for myself. I carefully placed the pan on the floor and crawled towards the counter, edging along to the end. Peering around, I found both my parents with their hands up. The man holding the gun wore no mask. My breath caught in my throat.

I’d never described a man as beautiful before. There was no other word for him. His light brown hair, short at the sides and longer on top, was neatly styled. Grey eyes glinted under the soft kitchen lights. His dark suit clung to him in all the right places, tailored to absolute perfection. It left no doubt he was all hard muscle underneath. An avenging angel. Except this angel had a gun pointed at my dad’s head.

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