The Tycoon's Seductive Revenge
Chapter 1
“ What do you mean, legal action is pending? ” Carter Stratton glared at his broker over the rims of his aviator sunglasses deflecting the Miami sunset.
“Keep your voice down,” Neville hissed.
Patrons standing on the Vice Lounge’s VIP-only deck paused to stare, then returned to their martinis, cigarettes and conversations when the two of them moved to the deck’s lower level.
Strain creased Neville’s forehead like an accordion. “I said might .”
“I want answers.” Brisk wind riding in off the ocean did nothing to cool Carter’s temper. “You have five seconds before I call my lawyer.”
“No!” Neville cleared his throat. “That won’t be necessary. It’s the Pierce acquisition—there’s a petition to scrap the project.”
Carter reeled with shock. “On what grounds?”
“Environmental activists determined your future hotel goes two-hundred yards into a wildlife reserve. And there’s a mandatory three-hundred-yard distance between commercial property and the protected land.”
Yanking off his sunglasses, Carter stated, “I’m out five hundred yards of prime beachfront property I’ve staked fifty million on, because you didn’t do your research?”
At the mention of his cash flow, two emaciated blondes in miniskirts who’d been eyeing him all night reasserted themselves in his personal space.
Carter turned away, heading to the edge of patio. Late fall wind streamed through his hair. The sun sank into the watery horizon, dragging with it dreams of his most high-profile real estate transaction since he went into business for himself.
Neville sidled up to him. “There’s still a chance—”
Carter shook his head. “I’m out.”
“It’s not that easy.”
Brows lowering, Carter warned, “If you signed anything without my knowledge...”
“I put up collateral. That’s what you told me to do.”
“Before I knew the property had major setbacks.” He shook his head. “When things sound too good to be true, they are.” He used to have a nose for rotten deals. He should’ve handled this himself, staked the grounds personally, calculating exact measurements, weighing benefits against risks.
Gripping the wooden railing, he looked down at neon bar lights glinting off the waves. Had he lost his Midas touch?
He’d never been this careless when so much was at stake. Admittedly, he’d grown lax about his investments, stepping back the way Amanda had hounded him to do for months, letting other people take care of the details.
“Never again,” he swore to himself. He turned to Neville. “I should fire you on the spot. Except—”
“I’m the only person who can get your money back,” Neville completed his sentence.
“I’m all for saving the planet. Can’t this be resolved behind the scenes?”
“Not when the father of your recent ex-girlfriend is an official at the Florida Environmental Protection League.”
Great . He couldn’t win for losing. “How much was the collateral?”
“Five million.”
Carter slammed the heels of his hands against the railing. “Unbelievable.”
“Here’s the deal. If you walk away now, your name is in the clear. Let me work my magic. I’ll protect your status in the beachfront real estate industry.”
“In the meantime, my funds are tied up in this mess.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Yeah, well I’ve already shaken hands with the devil. I won’t get burned twice.” Despite the mild southern climate this late in the year, he felt a chill creep through him he couldn’t shake. “You have five business days to resolve this, starting Monday.”
“It takes time—”
“Five days.”
Carter reached into his leather coat pocket for the three-week-old newsprint he’d torn out of Elite Southern Properties Magazine :
There in black and white was a small advertisement printed in bold letters.
For Sale : Elegant hotel on El Dorado Island, beachfront property, historically significant, unmatched charm. Repairs assumed by buyer. Auction commences November 31. Call with inquiries.
It listed a phone number still stamped on his brain despite twelve years passing since he dialed it. Ellie’s number .
“My advice,” his broker continued, “is to lay low. You don’t need to be sucked into a legal battle just because your relationship took a swan-dive like all the others.”
“Motivational speaker—that’s your calling, Neville.”
“You’ll have your money. I swear on my second home.”
“ What do you mean, legal action is pending? ” Carter Stratton glared at his broker over the rims of his aviator sunglasses deflecting the Miami sunset.
“Keep your voice down,” Neville hissed.
Patrons standing on the Vice Lounge’s VIP-only deck paused to stare, then returned to their martinis, cigarettes and conversations when the two of them moved to the deck’s lower level.
Strain creased Neville’s forehead like an accordion. “I said might .”
“I want answers.” Brisk wind riding in off the ocean did nothing to cool Carter’s temper. “You have five seconds before I call my lawyer.”
“No!” Neville cleared his throat. “That won’t be necessary. It’s the Pierce acquisition—there’s a petition to scrap the project.”
Carter reeled with shock. “On what grounds?”
“Environmental activists determined your future hotel goes two-hundred yards into a wildlife reserve. And there’s a mandatory three-hundred-yard distance between commercial property and the protected land.”
Yanking off his sunglasses, Carter stated, “I’m out five hundred yards of prime beachfront property I’ve staked fifty million on, because you didn’t do your research?”
At the mention of his cash flow, two emaciated blondes in miniskirts who’d been eyeing him all night reasserted themselves in his personal space.
Carter turned away, heading to the edge of patio. Late fall wind streamed through his hair. The sun sank into the watery horizon, dragging with it dreams of his most high-profile real estate transaction since he went into business for himself.
Neville sidled up to him. “There’s still a chance—”
Carter shook his head. “I’m out.”
“It’s not that easy.”
Brows lowering, Carter warned, “If you signed anything without my knowledge...”
“I put up collateral. That’s what you told me to do.”
“Before I knew the property had major setbacks.” He shook his head. “When things sound too good to be true, they are.” He used to have a nose for rotten deals. He should’ve handled this himself, staked the grounds personally, calculating exact measurements, weighing benefits against risks.
Gripping the wooden railing, he looked down at neon bar lights glinting off the waves. Had he lost his Midas touch?
He’d never been this careless when so much was at stake. Admittedly, he’d grown lax about his investments, stepping back the way Amanda had hounded him to do for months, letting other people take care of the details.
“Never again,” he swore to himself. He turned to Neville. “I should fire you on the spot. Except—”
“I’m the only person who can get your money back,” Neville completed his sentence.
“I’m all for saving the planet. Can’t this be resolved behind the scenes?”
“Not when the father of your recent ex-girlfriend is an official at the Florida Environmental Protection League.”
Great . He couldn’t win for losing. “How much was the collateral?”
“Five million.”
Carter slammed the heels of his hands against the railing. “Unbelievable.”
“Here’s the deal. If you walk away now, your name is in the clear. Let me work my magic. I’ll protect your status in the beachfront real estate industry.”
“In the meantime, my funds are tied up in this mess.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Yeah, well I’ve already shaken hands with the devil. I won’t get burned twice.” Despite the mild southern climate this late in the year, he felt a chill creep through him he couldn’t shake. “You have five business days to resolve this, starting Monday.”
“It takes time—”
“Five days.”
Carter reached into his leather coat pocket for the three-week-old newsprint he’d torn out of Elite Southern Properties Magazine :
There in black and white was a small advertisement printed in bold letters.
For Sale : Elegant hotel on El Dorado Island, beachfront property, historically significant, unmatched charm. Repairs assumed by buyer. Auction commences November 31. Call with inquiries.
It listed a phone number still stamped on his brain despite twelve years passing since he dialed it. Ellie’s number .
“My advice,” his broker continued, “is to lay low. You don’t need to be sucked into a legal battle just because your relationship took a swan-dive like all the others.”
“Motivational speaker—that’s your calling, Neville.”
“You’ll have your money. I swear on my second home.”