Damien seemed to have the Midas touch, because every venture he invested in, every dollar he made, ended up tripling. He couldn’t seem to lose when it came to financials, but it was never enough. None of it was.
Only retribution could soothe his troubled soul.
“To be honest, Douglas,” he stressed the name, letting the man know that even though Douglas couldn’t address Damien informally, Damien certainly would take the opportunity to do so to Douglas. It was a power play, letting his opponent know he was the weaker man. “I wasn’t going to take you up on your offer, but then I did some research… It made me change my mind. I’m intrigued by why you’d basically sell your child.”
Damien left the words as a statement, seeing if Douglas would fill in the blanks.
“You placed an ad. I just happen to have a solution. I’m looking for investors, so it seemed a mutually benefiting deal. I’m a very private man, though, and the terms of our agreement are to stay between us,” Douglas said, showing a bit of the backbone that had made him billions of dollars.
“I’m private myself, Douglas.”
Douglas gazed at him for a few silent moments. Damien could see the man was trying to decide if Damien was for real or not. Though Damien’s passion was his vineyards, he was well-known throughout the world as a smart investor. It was common knowledge that he never invested in a losing company.
Damien knew he’d most likely lose every dime of money he sunk into Monroe enterprises but it didn’t matter. This wasn’t about making money, it was about payback, and Damien didn’t care if he lost millions. It was inconsequential to him.
“Fine. It looks like we’re both agreeable. Are you going to accept the offer?” Douglas finally asked, sitting back, trying to portray a man with confidence, who was slightly bored. He wasn’t pulling it off.
“I’m willing to invest ten million into your project.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Only if your daughter is… cooperative.”
Douglas waited for more. Damien said nothing else.
“How cooperative?” Douglas finally asked, his brow beading with sweat as he nervously waited for Damien’s reply. It was obvious the man didn’t think his daughter was worth ten million dollars. In reality, he was most likely right. The only woman Damien could think of worth that kind of money was already taken.
“Do you really want to know?” Damien mocked.
Damien was still standing, towering his six-foot-plus frame over the small man. He bent down, his knuckles grazing the desk. He knew intimidation was his best tactical maneuver.
“I can’t make any guarantees about her attitude, but I’ll make sure she works hard,” Douglas said, perspiration starting to drip from his brow.
“I wouldn’t be too concerned about her attitude. From everything I’ve learned about her, she seems to be quite…accommodating,” Damien mocked.
He watched as Douglas blanched, but didn’t back down. The man was truly selling his daughter, even with Damien leaving the impression that he wanted her for nothing more than a slave.
He wanted to turn and walk from the room, dismiss the entire deal, but the more he sunk into this twisted family, the more he desired to know about Sierra Monroe. He’d have his answers soon enough.
Damien’s cold eyes showed none of the emotions raging through him as he pulled the pen from his breast pocket. He signed the paper before looking into the greedy eyes of his newest investee. It was the first time he’d signed a deal that made his stomach turn.
Chapter Three
Sierra awoke, stretching out her arms before daring to look at the clock next to her bed. With a quick glance, she saw it was only seven in the morning and she was a bit disappointed with herself. She knew she’d never be able to get back to sleep, but she’d so hoped she’d sleep until at least nine, maybe even ten.
With frustration running through her, she stumbled from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. The long, hot shower woke her in a refreshingly pleasant way, and she scrubbed the rest of the wedding stink from her body.
She took her time putting her hair up and applying make-up. She wanted to make her father wait on her for some reason. It was her small form of rebellion. She hated it when he yelled, hated it even more when he hit her, but she was trying to gain some small piece of independence.
He refused to let her move from his home, though she was twenty-five years old. He had no problem with his darling Sandy running all over the place, jumping from one man to the next, then finally marrying her sister’s barely ex-boyfriend, but he had a problem with Sierra moving out on her own.