She was dressed to perfection in a cream-colored, sleeveless silk shirt and a teal-colored pencil skirt. The matching jacket hung on the back of her chair. Natasha was slender, but with an athletic build. She wore her shoulder-length hair in soft curls around her heart-shaped face.
Ari couldn’t deny that Natasha was very beautiful, but he didn’t like what she was trying to do to his father. Unconsciously, he played with the gold wedding band on his finger.
Ari Alexander resembled his father. They had the same muscular build, and both stood about five or six inches taller than Natasha’s five-foot-six-inch frame; Ari’s skin was the color of pure honey, while his father was more of a tawny color. They had both inherited those deep, penetrating gray eyes from Robert DePaul. Natasha’s gaze halted at the gleaming gold band on his left ring finger.
He’s married, Natasha thought with disappointment. She found herself wondering what type of woman he had married. Was she a stay-at-home wife, or did she work in some sort of professional capacity?
Why do I care?
Natasha shook all thoughts of Ari out of her mind and focused on her purpose. She was here to consult on the hotel properties, but also to help Harold DePaul keep what should rightfully belong to him. She just never expected to see such a handsome and virile man standing before her.
Her thoughts centered on Malcolm Alexander. He was not at all as she’d imagined. He didn’t seem impressed by all of the luxury surrounding him, and it didn’t seem to matter that he was the heir to billions. In fact, Malcolm didn’t appear to be thrilled at all about the fact that he was now a very wealthy man.
I’d be the happiest woman alive if I were in his shoes, Natasha thought to herself. She wasn’t all about money, but there were times when one desperately needed it for survival.
Her eyes traveled to Ari. Unlike his father, Natasha could tell he really wanted what would one day be his inheritance. He was champing at the bit to get his hands on the hotel properties.
Ari looked at her, his jaw clenched and his eyes slightly narrowed.
Natasha gave him a tiny smile and then quickly looked away, embarrassed that he’d caught her watching him.
She clamped her jaw tight and stared straight ahead. Why did he have to be so good-looking?
Natasha could feel him watching her, and she wondered what he was thinking. She heard Ira mention her name and turned her attention to him. “I’m sorry, could you repeat your question?”
The assistant quickly strolled across the carpet and stepped into the hallway. She returned a few minutes later to say, “Ira, you have an urgent call…”
“Why don’t we take a five-minute break?” the attorney suggested as he made his way to the door.
Ari stood up and walked out of the room. He took a seat in the living room and turned on the television.
Natasha was relieved. She needed some time to get herself together before she looked like a bumbling idiot.
When she returned, Ira walked over to her. “What’s going on with you? You okay?”
She stole a peek at Ari, who was walking into the conference room behind his father. “Nothing’s going on. Just didn’t think this meeting would turn so contentious.”
“Natasha, I have a tremendous amount of respect for you, so I’m going to offer a word of advice,” Ira said. “Make sure that you are choosing the right side in this battle. Robert knew exactly what he was doing when he left most of his estate to Malcolm Alexander. I’m surprised you would believe otherwise.”
Before she could respond, Ira walked over to where Malcolm was standing.
She took a deep breath and then released it slowly. Convincing Malcolm Alexander to sell wasn’t going to be an easy feat.
Ari sat with his jaw clenched. When he met her gaze, the line of his mouth tightened a fraction more. He rose to his feet and walked over to the counter to grab an apple.
He picked up a newspaper from the stack lying atop a cabinet. “Secret Son Inherits Robert DePaul’s Dynasty,” he read aloud. “I guess news travels fast in this town.”
“Put that down,” Malcolm said. “No matter how big or how small a city, people love to talk.”
“It says here that the outraged members of DePaul’s family demand a DNA test be performed to prove that you somehow defrauded Robert. Dad, this is crazy,” Ari uttered, shaking his head in disgust. “You’ve never met the man.”
A muscle flicked angrily in Malcolm’s jaw. “Son, they don’t care about that. When people think they have been mistreated, they jump to all sorts of wild conclusions. They are looking to blame someone—anyone. They can say whatever they feel, but it doesn’t make it true. This applies to Robert DePaul, as well. For all we know, he could’ve done all this to upset his family. I have no problem with taking a DNA test. I think we all want to know the truth.”
“Robert was very clear,” the attorney said as he entered the room. “He wanted to acknowledge you as his only ch—”
Malcolm cut him off by saying, “My mother never once mentioned this man. Frankly, I don’t know how or when she could’ve met him. This could be a case of mistaken identity.”
Ira pointed to the letter Malcolm was holding. “I believe the letter you have in your hand will give you the answers you need.”
“I want to have the DNA test,” Malcolm blurted. His tone brooked no argument.
“I think you’re making a wise decision, Mr. Alexander,” Natasha interjected.
“Dad, you don’t have to do this,” Ari argued. He gazed at Natasha as he said, “You don’t have to prove anything to these people.”
Malcolm nodded. “I know, but I want it, all the same, son. I’m not doing this for them as much as for me.”
Ari waited to see if his father would say more, but nothing came. The matter was settled.
Chapter 2
After spending over an hour going over an inventory of Robert’s real estate holdings, Ira called for another five-minute break. He excused himself to take a phone call. Natasha did the same, leaving Malcolm and Ari alone in the conference room.
Ari stood up to stretch. He had no idea their meeting would take so long. He was tired and his father looked exhausted. They were both still on East Coast time.
Malcolm picked up the unopened letter and said, “I was about eight or nine years old when I asked my mama why I didn’t look like any of them.”
“What did she tell you?” Ari asked.
“She sat me down and explained that I had a different father. Mama did tell me that he was a white man, and that they had loved each other very much. That’s all she told me, and at the time, I guess it was enough for me.”
“How do you feel about all of this now?” Ari inquired.
