Prologue
Just outside the city of Seattle, a castle sits on a cliff overlooking Puget Sound. The Chateau has perched there since a French prince was removed to the wilds of America for loving the wrong woman. However, the prince was not one to hide in the shame forced upon him. He built himself a grand castle on a large estate, where he raised a happy family and amassed a considerable fortune.
Years went by, and the castle and the land passed from one generation to another until it reached the prince’s great-great-grandson, Adam Moreau, a corporate lawyer who was known for tearing apart his competition in the courtroom. His grandfather had taken the considerable fortune and turned it into ridiculous wealth, which meant young Adam wanted for nothing—nothing but the opportunity to prove himself a Moreau in every sense of the name. Unfortunately, as the coffers grew with each generation, the love that had brought the family to the rocky cliffside dwelling dwindled, and Adam was left with the incorrect assumption that love is a weakness. After all, a lawyer couldn’t afford sentimentality. His cunning ways and fierce legal attacks earned him many nicknames, but only one lasted through the test of time: the Beast.
Our story begins on a cold and drizzly winter Washington day when even the brilliant colors of changing leaves have been pushed aside by a muted, overcast sky and gloominess. Adam, in a move prompted purely by the increase in his financial standing, has subdivided a portion of the family estate and turned it into an exclusive development for billionaires calledThe Cove. As all but three of the lots have sold and the eclectic group of homes nears completion, he’d like to open Phase II. However, local politicians are hesitant to allow the rezoning of some of the city’s longtime wooded areas.
At the suggestion of his Public Relations Advisor, Adam invites Seattle’s most influential people, including the mayor, the city council, and the members of the zoning commission, into his castle for lunch. He’s counting on wooing them with fine foods and perhaps intimidating them with the heavily guarded gate into The Cove, the solid stone castle walls, and his own reputation as the nation’s most formidable attorney. If all goes well, the provincials will leave their doubts and Phase II may begin posthaste. For who could ever resist the Beast?
Chapter One
Adam
“Why?”
Adam Moreau sidestepped the sloshed city councilwoman as she leaned into him, her pink drink swirling over the edge of her crystal flute. He grimaced, which was the closest thing he could get to smile while schmoozing. Networking had merit, but chitchat was a colossal waste of time.
“Why would you ever give up all this property, the seclusion, theromanticwoods?” She flipped her limp hand in the general direction of the vast acres of forest to the south of his latest development: The Cove. His pet project had given him a purpose, a drive, and he hadn’t once lamented the loss of land. Property had value, yes. But he had enough money to last ten lifetimes. What Adam craved was a challenge.
Ms. Stonewall, his public relations advisor, walked behind the councilwoman and coughed lightly, her way of reminding him to use one of the answers she’d spent hours compiling based on each of the city council members’ profiles. This particular councilwoman was active in women’s rights groups and lobbied for stricter online privacy regulation throughout the nation.
Adam mentally shuffled through the cards he’d glanced over, and memorized, moments before making his grand entrance. “Because one of the biggest issues wealth creates is the lack of privacy. The Cove has two security bases, a full security team, and an impregnable perimeter, all to make sure that our residents can walk around their home and property and feel safe.”
The councilwoman threw back the remainder of her drink.
Adam went for the kill. “We have several female residents who are transplants from other parts of the country, and I’m certain they will be looking for ways to make a difference in their new hometown.”
Her blue eyes, as dull as they were, widened. “We could use more strong women in politics.” Her response was as predictable as a doll’s recorded message. Dolly needs a bottle. Dolly wants more money for science programs for women. Not that Adam had anything against science programs for women—he donated millions of dollars to them every year. His own mother had been a chemistry professor—brilliant-minded and kind-hearted. There should be more women like her in the world.
What Adam minded was the predictability. For once, he’d like to meet a woman who was unpredictable. One who could hold his interest, verbally spar with him, and not be reduced to tears if he cancelled dinner.
Out of the corner of his eye, Adam caught the mayor and her small group of yes-men leaning his direction, listening in. Again—predictable.
“The Cove is a beacon for women and men alike.” Adam spoke loud enough that the mayor didn’t have to strain to hear him. What did he care if Mayor Kelly Scott heard him boasting about the benefits of living behind a bulletproof vest? The Cove had all the amenities today’s billionaire could ask for and then some. He’d meant to create a beacon for the ultra-wealthy. Surrounding himself with successful people was never a bad idea.
“Richwomen and men,” groused the mayor, her blonde hair staying put like a helmet, even as she glanced both ways to see who else was listening in. The group of spectators grew, crowding in like teenagers in the hallway. Any moment now, one of them would chant,Fight, fight, fight. “Who will no doubt throw money attheircandidates.” She said this as if it were a bad thing.
Adam lifted his eyebrows slightly. “Many of them support the democracy vouchers.” He lifted his glass. “As do I.” According to his PR specialist, the democracy vouchers were a brilliant plan cooked up by Mayor Scott’s advisors to include more people in the democratic process. Each registered voter received a voucher for $100 that they could donate to the political campaign for the candidate of their choice. Less than half the vouchers had been put to use, but even those dismal numbers represented more pre-election day participation than Seattle had seen in decades.
Mayor Kelly Scott wasn’t one to back down from a debate, but she wasn’t about to start a fight with the man who had donated over half the funds for the democracy voucher program. A program that had earned her the popular vote last election. In short, she was smart. And even though she strongly opposed opening Phase II of The Cove, she bit her tongue.
“Excuse me, sir?” Edwards, Adam’s head butler, stood stiffly at Adam’s elbow. He had a first name, though it was unlikely than anyone in the castle knew what it was. The man had been here when Adam was growing up. He took such pride in his job that he was known to sniff derisively should Adam metaphorically step on his toes. A derisive sniff from any staff member would have earned them a swift dismissal, but Edwards, and his graying mustache, were as much a part of the castle as the grandfather clock in the hall.
“Yes?” Adam motioned for him to continue.
“Your Uncle Philip has arrived with a matter of great urgency.”
At that moment, the very uncle mentioned hurried into the room. He wore a brown suit that had seen better days, and he carried a leather folder in his thick hands. His bright blue eyes, a trait he shared with Adam’s late mother and Adam himself, were frosted with worry. Uncle Philip rarely came to the castle, and his appearance now carried with it the first chill of winter.
“It’s good to see you, uncle.”Even if the timing is horrible.Adam angled himself between the local highbrows and the man with wispy hair and knuckles swollen with arthritis. “What brings you here?” he asked lowly.
“I’m sorry to interrupt the party.” He leaned to the side and offered Mayor Scott an apologetic smile.
Adam took him by the shoulder and turned him away from the other guests. “What do you need?”
“Well, we had the problem with The Rose Apartments. Remember?” He moistened his nearly nonexistent lips. Just how old was this man? Adam remembered him from family gatherings as a child, round face, full cheeks. He’d aged considerably, and not well, by the looks of things.
The Rose was one of the first apartment complexes Adam’s grandfather built in Seattle. Father had given Uncle Philip the position of manager at Mother’s request shortly before she passed away. Since Uncle Philip had proven himself competent, neither Father nor Adam had removed him, and he had remained in that position for ages.
