Chapter 1 - The Daughter They Chose to Sacrifice
The first thing Adelaide Jones heard was her sister laughing.
Not nervous laughter.
Not the brittle sound people made when they were frightened and pretending otherwise.
This was genuine amusement.
Cruel amusement.
“Send Adelaide.”
Chloe Jones leaned back against the velvet sofa and crossed one perfectly manicured leg over the other.
“He’ll take one look at her face and send her straight back.”
Her stepmother Evelyn laughed into her champagne.
“Assuming he sends her back at all.”
Adelaide stopped in the hallway.
A stack of unopened mail rested against her chest.
Inside the drawing room, her father said nothing.
That hurt more than the laughter.
Rockford Jones had built Jones Financial into one of Boston’s most respected private investment firms.
He understood risk.
He understood leverage.
He understood how to move millions of dollars between markets before most investors finished breakfast.
What he apparently did not understand was how to protect his own daughter.
Especially when protecting her became inconvenient.
Three days earlier, Rockford had received a message from Mateo Moretti.
Fifteen million dollars belonging to Moretti-controlled companies had disappeared under Rockford’s management.
Mateo wanted repayment.
Rockford could not provide it.
So Mateo demanded security.
Not cash.
Not property.
A marriage.
One of Rockford Jones’s daughters would become Mateo Moretti’s wife.
Everyone in Boston knew the Moretti name.
Nobody said it too loudly.
Shipping.
Construction.
Private security.
Restaurants.
Real estate.
And beneath the legitimate companies—
Something darker.
Mateo had inherited the organization after his father was assassinated.
He was thirty-two.
Rich beyond measurement.
Feared almost universally.
And according to rumor, completely without mercy.
Chloe was engaged to Preston Whitmore, the son of a United States senator.
There was no possibility she would willingly trade political galas for a Moretti fortress.
So Evelyn had found a solution.
Adelaide.
The daughter no one displayed.
The one kept out of photographs.
The one who wore oversized sweaters and thick glasses.
The one with a scar running from her left temple to her jaw.
The scar she had carried since the car accident that killed her mother when Adelaide was nine.
“Mateo asked for Rockford’s daughter,” Evelyn said.
“He did not specify which one.”
Rockford’s voice was strained.
“He expects Chloe.”
“How would he know?”
“He knows everything.”
“Then perhaps this teaches him not to be vague.”
Chloe laughed again.
“Honestly, Daddy, it’s perfect.”
Rockford poured another drink.
“If I send Adelaide and he thinks I’m mocking him—”
“Exactly.”
Chloe smiled.
“He becomes offended.”
“And then?”
“He rejects her.”
Evelyn finished the thought.
“And you renegotiate.”
Rockford looked unconvinced.
Chloe shrugged.
“Or he kills her.”
The room went silent for half a second.
Then Chloe lifted her glass.
“Either way, I don’t marry him.”
Adelaide opened the door.
Three faces turned toward her.
Nobody apologized.
That told her everything.
“I’ll go.”
Rockford paled.
“Adelaide—”
May you like
“Don’t.”
....
