Chapter 1 - THE FOREHEAD KISS THAT SILENCED A BALLROOM
“Please kiss my forehead. He’s watching us.”
Olivia Hayes barely moved her lips when she said it.
The orchestra was playing somewhere behind them, crystal chandeliers glittered over two hundred beautifully dressed strangers, and rain streaked the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Halston Grand above the Chicago River.
The man beside her turned his head.
Slowly.
Gabriel Moretti was forty-two, six-foot-three, broad through the shoulders, and dressed in a black suit that fit him too perfectly to have come from any ordinary store. A touch of silver marked his dark hair near the temples. His face was handsome in a severe way, but it was his eyes that unsettled people.
He looked at the world as if panic were something that happened to other men.
“Who’s watching?” he asked.
Olivia swallowed.
“Across the room. Champagne fountain. Gray tuxedo.”
Gabriel followed her gaze.
Richard Hayes stood beside Vanessa Clark, the blonde woman he had started sleeping with six months before Olivia finally found the courage to leave him.
Vanessa was laughing.
Richard wasn’t.
He was staring directly at Olivia.
Gabriel looked back at her.
“Your husband?”
“Ex-husband.”
“And you want a stranger to kiss you because he’s looking?”
Olivia’s throat tightened.
“Not exactly.”
“Then explain.”
She hated how much this mattered.
Hated that Richard could still make her feel twenty-three years old and stupid. Hated that after three years of divorce, she could still hear his voice inside her head.
Nobody else will want the version of you that’s left when I’m done.
He had said it during their last fight.
Not shouted.
Richard rarely shouted.
He had smiled when he said it.
Olivia lifted her chin.
“He spent six years convincing me no man with options would ever choose me.”
Something changed in Gabriel’s expression.
Not pity.
Pity would have humiliated her.
What crossed his face was colder.
“And tonight?” he asked.
“I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing that I still remember.”
Gabriel studied her.
“Are you asking me to make him jealous?”
“I’m asking you to help me survive thirty seconds without looking wounded.”
For the first time, Gabriel glanced at her as though she had said something he understood personally.
Then he lifted one hand.
Olivia stopped breathing.
His fingers brushed a loose strand of chestnut hair away from her cheek.
He didn’t grab her.
He didn’t pull her closer.
He gave her enough time to move away.
When she didn’t, Gabriel bent his head.
His lips touched her forehead.
The kiss was soft.
Almost unbearably gentle.
Not theatrical.
Not possessive.
Not even seductive.
It was worse.
It looked real.
Across the ballroom, Richard’s smile vanished.
But Richard was not the only person who reacted.
Near the exits, three men in dark suits straightened at exactly the same time.
A waiter carrying champagne stopped walking.
Another man touched two fingers to the earpiece hidden beneath his hair.
“Mr. Moretti is with a woman,” he murmured.
A pause.
Then his eyes moved to Olivia.
“Understood.”
Olivia noticed none of it.
She stepped back after Gabriel released her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I should probably clarify that I don’t usually approach strange men at charity galas and request forehead kisses.”
“I assumed this was a rare exception.”
She stared at him.
His face was completely serious.
Olivia almost laughed.
Almost.
Then Richard started walking toward them.
Her stomach tightened instantly.
Gabriel noticed.
“Would you prefer to leave?”
“No.”
Olivia forced herself to breathe.
“I came here because my company was nominated for Regional Event Firm of the Year. I worked too hard to leave because Richard is uncomfortable.”
A faint flicker of approval touched Gabriel’s eyes.
“Good.”
Richard arrived with Vanessa attached to his arm.
“Olivia.”
His voice had the smooth warmth he used in public.
“What a surprise.”
“It’s an industry gala, Richard. My being here shouldn’t be shocking.”
His eyes shifted to Gabriel.
And Olivia watched the blood drain from her ex-husband’s face.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Gabriel said nothing.
Vanessa frowned.
“Richard, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
Richard ignored her.
“I didn’t realize you two were acquainted.”
“We are now,” Gabriel said.
Four words.
Nothing threatening in them.
Yet Richard looked as if someone had placed a knife against the back of his neck.
Olivia knew his faces.
She knew contempt.
She knew fake concern.
She knew arrogance disguised as patience.
She knew the expression he wore when he had already decided the other person in the room was stupid.
But fear?
She had never seen Richard afraid.
Not until now.
“Olivia,” Richard said carefully, “could we speak privately?”
“No, thank you.”
“It concerns your company.”
“Then email me.”
His jaw hardened.
Gabriel’s hand settled lightly against Olivia’s lower back.
Not gripping.
Not steering.
Simply there.
Richard looked at the hand.
“She answered you,” Gabriel said.
Richard stared at him for another second.
Then he stepped backward.
Vanessa followed, irritation replacing confusion.
When they disappeared into the crowd, Olivia exhaled shakily.
“Who are you?”
Gabriel watched Richard leave.
“Someone your former husband recognizes.”
“That was obvious.”
He turned toward her.
“Gabriel Moretti.”
Her face changed.
“Oh.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“That kind of reaction usually means somebody has told you a story about me.”
“Several.”
“Did any end well?”
“Not particularly.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“I prefer honest women.”
Olivia had heard the Moretti name.
Everyone in Chicago hospitality had.
Moretti Holdings owned luxury hotels, restaurants, commercial properties, private investment firms, and half a dozen other companies that appeared on charity banners all over the city.
Then there were the rumors.
Warehouses.
Private gambling rooms.
Old debts.
Competitors who suddenly decided to move to Arizona.
Agreements made without contracts because everybody already knew what breaking them would cost.
Olivia had always dismissed most of it as rich-people mythology.
Standing beside Gabriel Moretti, she suddenly wasn’t sure.
The ballroom lights dimmed.
The award ceremony was beginning.
Gabriel offered his arm.
Olivia hesitated only a moment.
Then she took it.
Neither of them noticed Richard standing partly hidden behind a marble column.
He had his phone pressed against his ear.
“We have a problem,” Richard whispered.
A voice answered.
Richard looked toward Gabriel.
“No. Bigger than that.”
Olivia didn’t win the award.
She told herself she was prepared.
She wasn’t.
For eighteen months, Hayes Events had been shrinking.
First, three corporate clients left.
Then two hotels stopped placing her company on preferred-vendor lists.
Then anonymous reviews started appearing online accusing Olivia of missing deadlines and mishandling deposits.
None of it was true.
But truth moved slowly.
Rumors moved overnight.
The nomination had meant something.
It had meant people were beginning to see her again.
When another company’s name was announced, Olivia applauded with everyone else.
Twenty minutes later, Gabriel found her alone on a terrace.
The rain had stopped.
Below them, Chicago reflected in the black water.
“You disappeared,” he said.
“I needed air.”
“Because you lost?”
Olivia gave him a tired smile.
“You don’t waste time.”
“No.”
She stared over the railing.
“I know awards are stupid.”
“They aren’t stupid when you’ve decided they mean something.”
She looked at him.
“That almost sounded emotionally intelligent.”
“I have people who handle public relations.”
She laughed despite herself.
Then the smile faded.
“I thought things were changing.”
Gabriel stood beside her.
“Tell me about your business.”
“Is this where you offer to buy it?”
“No.”
“Good. It isn’t for sale.”
“Then tell me why it’s failing.”
Olivia turned sharply.
“What?”
Gabriel remained perfectly still.
“Your company. Why is it failing?”
“You don't know anything about my company.”
“I know that eighteen months ago, Hayes Events managed thirty-seven major contracts. Last quarter, you managed eleven. I know your two largest hotel partners terminated their preferred-vendor agreements within nine days of each other. And I know your former husband recently acquired a minority interest in the company that replaced you at both hotels.”
Olivia stared at him.
“How do you know that?”
“Because one of those hotels belongs to me.”
The cold night air suddenly seemed thinner.
“The Bellmont?”
Gabriel nodded.
“The Bellmont Chicago.”
Olivia gripped the railing.
The Bellmont had been her most important client.
She had organized everything from corporate conferences to winter charity auctions there for five years.
Then one morning, its procurement director had informed her that the hotel was restructuring its vendor relationships.
No explanation.
No appeal.
Just a polite email ending a relationship worth nearly four hundred thousand dollars annually.
“Your hotel fired my company,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“And you're asking why I'm failing?”
“Because I didn't authorize it.”
She turned toward him.
Gabriel's expression was unreadable.
“I reviewed your vendor file this afternoon,” he continued. “Someone submitted a report claiming your company had diverted client deposits and falsified insurance documentation.”
Olivia felt something twist inside her chest.
“That's a lie.”
“I suspected it might be.”
“Why?”
“Because the report was submitted by Richard Hayes.”
For a moment, she couldn't speak.
Then she laughed.
It was a terrible sound.
“Of course.”
Gabriel watched her.
“Did he ever offer to buy your company?”
Olivia's head snapped up.
“How did you know?”
“Answer me.”
“Three times.”
“For how much?”
“The last offer was sixty thousand dollars.”
“And the business was worth?”
“Before he started destroying it? Almost a million.”
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
Olivia stared at him.
“You think he's doing this deliberately.”
“I think your former husband has made several decisions that deserve investigation.”
“Why would he want my company so badly?”
Gabriel looked through the terrace doors.
Richard stood inside, speaking urgently into his phone.
“That's what I'd like to know.”
Olivia felt the first real surge of anger she'd experienced in months.
Not shame.
Not embarrassment.
Anger.
Richard had taken six years of her life.
He had convinced her she was difficult, emotional, incompetent, and lucky that he tolerated her.
Then, when she finally escaped, he had apparently decided that even her independence was too much.
“Can you prove it?” she asked.
Gabriel looked back at her.
“Not yet.”
She swallowed.
“Then what happens now?”
Gabriel reached into his jacket and handed her a business card.
His private number was printed beneath his name.
“Tomorrow morning, my legal department will request an independent review of the Bellmont's vendor decision.”
Olivia stared at the card.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because if someone manipulated my business to destroy yours, I intend to know.”
She looked up.
“And what do you want in return?”
His expression changed.
Something almost sad crossed his face.
“Nothing.”
“Men like you don't do things for nothing.”
“Men like me?”
“Rich. Powerful. Dangerous.”
Gabriel considered that.
“Perhaps you're right to be cautious.”
She studied him.
“Then why help me?”
He looked toward the ballroom again.
“Because I recognize what it looks like when someone enjoys watching another person lose everything.”
Before Olivia could answer, the terrace door opened.
A tall man in a dark suit approached.
“Boss.”
Gabriel turned.
“What is it, Matteo?”
The man glanced at Olivia.
Then lowered his voice.
“We found the transfer.”
Gabriel's expression sharpened.
“Which transfer?”
“The one from Hayes Consulting.”
A pause.
“To the account registered under her name.”
Olivia went cold.
“My name?”
Matteo looked uncomfortable.
Gabriel held out his hand.
“Show me.”
Matteo handed him a phone.
Gabriel studied the screen.
Then looked at Olivia.
“Do you have a company account at Lakeshore Commercial Bank?”
“Yes.”
“Ending in 4081?”
Her heart stumbled.
“That's our operating account.”
Gabriel's eyes darkened.
“According to this record, someone used it to receive two hundred and eighty thousand dollars from a company connected to Richard.”
Olivia shook her head.
“No.”
“The transfer occurred eleven days ago.”
“That's impossible.”
Gabriel studied her face.
Then he asked a question that made her blood run cold.
“Olivia, who besides you has access to your company's banking credentials?”
She opened her mouth.
Stopped.
And remembered the password recovery email she'd received the previous week.
The one she'd dismissed because she hadn't requested a reset.
Her voice became barely audible.
“Richard used to.”
Gabriel looked at Matteo.
“Get our attorneys involved. Preserve everything.”
Matteo nodded and disappeared inside.
Olivia stared at Gabriel.
“What does this mean?”
“It means someone may be trying to make you responsible for money you never received.”
Her hands began trembling.
“Why?”
Gabriel's gaze moved past her.
Toward the ballroom.
Toward Richard Hayes.
“Because I think your former husband is planning something much worse than ruining your reputation.”
Olivia turned.
May you like
Richard was watching them through the glass.
And this time, he was smiling.
