summer and winter, the Holts came and stayed on the estate. Unlike other wealthy families he’d worked for, they’d been kind, friendly with their staff. Especially Joseph Holt, who had taken the time to speak with everyone, get to know everyone.
And he’d taken a special interest in Ajax. Had, in many ways, become the father he’d never had. But more than that, he’d taught him an interest in business. Had sent him to college. Had, like he’d done for his daughters, given him money as venture capital. Ajax had spent three years working at Holt in the United States, and after that, he’d gone on to get his own business off the ground, dealing in retail stores, rather than manufacturing.
Ajax had made his success thanks to Joseph, knowing all the while that in the end, Holt would be a part of his stable of assets. As would Rachel.
He had lost one of those things today; he would not lose the other.
“You do see a lot, Leah. And I think you have inherited your father’s ability to spot a good business deal. And his inability to pass it up.”
She lifted her chin, dark hair shimmering in the light, the glossy curls sliding from her shoulders to tumble down her back. “I am a Holt, Ajax.”
“As is Rachel.”
“I am not my sister. Not even close. That you will have to remember.”
He looked her over. Still, he couldn’t help but see that image of a young teenager, sitting in her father’s office with a book on her lap, her hair, not glossy or gently curled, but frizzy and barely contained by a rubber band. Or her following him around the estate, chatting his ear off about a new idea she had for a business, asking him if he thought it might work.
If you put your mind to it, Leah, it will work.
That was what he’d always told her. He hadn’t realized how true it was. Just how dangerous she could be when she set her mind on something.
“I am in no danger of forgetting.”
“I’ll need...” She cleared her throat. “Well, that is, I have to get ready now.”
CHAPTER TWO
LEAH’S HANDS SHOOK as she picked up the bouquet, the one that was meant to have been her sister’s. Thank God she never could have in a million years worn her sister’s dress or shoes.
And this was the first time ever she’d been glad she couldn’t have. She didn’t want her sister’s flowers, groom, dress and shoes.
As it was, the dress and shoes were Leah’s. The flowers and groom...they weren’t.
Her stomach cramped painfully and she looked in the mirror. Her eyes looked overly large for her face, and as frightened as she felt. She didn’t have her mask up. Because she was very suddenly confronted with the reality of what she was doing.
On paper, in the moment, it had been very black-and-white. Alexios couldn’t be allowed to succeed in gaining access to Holt. If he was using Rachel, it couldn’t be a reward.
But here, standing in a wedding dress? It was feeling more real. More insane.
She reached down and took a tissue off the vanity and pressed her lips to it, leaving a crimson stain behind. She stared at it for a moment. Would her lips leave red marks on Ajax’s?
And it hit her with the force of a wrecking ball. She was going to kiss him. Today. She sank down onto the chair that was positioned in front of the mirror. She was actually marrying him. A legal marriage.
Worse, and more worrisome, since it was in her immediate future, she was about to expose herself to the press, and their ridicule, again. Her least favorite thing ever.
This wedding was huge. A major event. Rachel was so popular, a style icon for the masses and a favorite on the cover of magazines worldwide. And Ajax...he exuded dark sex appeal and mystery, plus there was the whole billionaire thing. That made this wedding, their wedding, a very big deal.
And she just didn’t match up to the fanfare.
She stood up and tried not to topple over as she looked in the mirror. She put her hands over her breasts, barely contained by the bodice of the strapless gown. Not her first choice, but it had been an emergency, and that meant she’d had to take the smaller size, and she’d had to take the one that showed a bit too much of her curves. Which were abundant. And she wasn’t big on putting them on display.
So, yay, of course now she’d be doing it in front of an audience of a thousand. Plus photographers. As a replacement bride for the lovely Rachel, who the media showed such favor. Who men, all through their lives, had shown such favor.
It reminded her of the time she’d gone to an event in a dress Rachel had worn earlier in the year. So there Leah was, having the sort of fashion misstep sixteen-year-olds often did, but in front of the world. Her less-svelte figure was too much on display thanks to the dress being too small, and the color washed her out. It had been put in a fashion magazine under a Who Wore it Better? heading. And Leah had been savaged in both the article and online.
Borrowing clothes from her sister’s closet was a lot more fraught for her than it was for other teenagers.
She remembered so clearly sitting down and crying in her father’s office when she’d seen it, and Ajax coming in. He’d been visiting, taking time out from his own corporate empire that was making a serious statement in the business landscape. But he’d always made time for them. He’d always felt like a part of the Holt family.
“I’m so humiliated, Ajax!” she’d wailed. “How will I ever live this down?”
Ajax had looked at her, dark eyes impassive. “If you don’t want to be compared to your sister, stop putting yourself in the position. You’re different. You will never be her, so stop trying.” He’d knelt in front of her then. “And you must never let them see you cry. Never give them anything they can use against you. An unbreakable target is not a satisfying one.”
He was right, then and now. She wasn’t Rachel. Not even close. And so she’d made an effort to look as different as possible from her sister. And she’d never let them see her cry.
Leah had become the snarky one, the one with the acerbic wit, the businesswoman who didn’t care what the press said and didn’t waste time trying to court them.
She’d become her own person. Her own very guarded person.
Unless she was with Ajax. With him, she’d felt free to show herself. She’d poured her heart out to him. Hours spent tailing him at the estate replaced with spending time in his office after school.
And she’d left him treats. Ajax wasn’t demonstrative, but she always saw the candy wrappers in the trash bin the next morning. And it always earned her a smile. A small one, but from Ajax, it had been gold.
And with those small smiles a girlish crush had turned into love. She’d been so close to telling him, too. One night when there were few people left in the Holt building and they’d been alone in his office. But she’d lost her nerve.
And by the end of the week, he’d announced that he intended to marry Rachel.
Never let them see you cry.
