CHAPTER ONE
SEBASTIAN
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Ripping off my tie, I toss it on the hotel bed and walk over to the bar.
London.
I’m eager to get home to Manhattan, but I love this city.My grandparents brought me and my sister, Catherine, here on vacation when I was a young boy, so it’s always had a special spot in my heart.I still have the little red toy bus Grandad bought me.
Right now, it’s fucking cold.Then again, so is NYC.The holidays are over and spring feels like it’s far away instead of just in a month or two.
Perhaps that’s because I’ve been in Dubai where it’s a million degrees.Approximately.
I tug the top off the crystal decanter and pour myself a finger of whisky.Taking a sip, I let out a sigh.
Things are going well.
The Crown Plaza development is on track and Sheikh Khalid Al-Mansour, our biggest investor, is pleased.I think.Spending a few days with him in the United Arab Emirates was a smart move.Not that I could afford the time, but as CEO of Remington Obsidian Holdings—the leading luxury real estate development firm in the United States—networking is part of the job.
It's how I became so successful so quickly.
At thirty-four, I’m worth billions and have very happy shareholders.Some of them are the team who started with me from day one, over twelve years ago.
A couple were Harvard classmates.I couldn’t pay them the salary they were worth at the time, so they accepted the shares offered and took a chance on me.
Those who didn’t sell their shares early on are now sitting pretty.Along with their healthy multi-six-figure salaries, they have holiday homes, boats, and all the bells and whistles of a successful life.
The Remington name is now synonymous with luxury and success, and more importantly, profit.Which brings higher quality partners, easy financing of projects and...women.
A lot of women.
This is the part where you expect me to sit down with my whisky, lift my feet onto the coffee table, light a cigar, and smirk.
Right?
After all, I’m rich and can fuck whoever I choose while money drips from my Armani suits and Tom Ford shoes.
All of which is true.
I also have two loving parents who, for the most part, didn’t fuck me up too badly, a sister who isn’t all that annoying—she’s now divorced—and I’m six foot four, broad chested, and have a six-pack.
So, life doesn’t suck.
But you don’t know my whole story.
Let’s rewind to my Harvard days, where I met Mason, Drew, Colt, and Zander.
And...Jack.
I walk over to the window and gaze out at the London skyline.Fucking Jack.I toss back the whisky.I’d have poured two fingers if I knew I was going down memory lane.
Simply put, Jack fell in love.
With Sandy.
I never liked her, and she knew it.From the moment we met, I could sense she was a snake, but I never thought she’d commit murder.
