Dane closed his eyes for a second to control the surge of anger already burning in his gut. Maybe all this restraint on both their parts did nothing to move them closer to the neutral zone. Keeping his head down, he asked in the tone of a job interviewer, “Do you miss working at Laurent?”
Damien didn’t answer.
Dane answered, not really waiting for his brother’s response, “The answer is no. Do you want to come back to work for Laurent?”
His brother still didn’t answer.
“That answer is no.”
“You didn’t have to be a bastard to push him out. That’s the bloody problem,” Dallon interjected with a forceful pound of the fist on the table. The dishes rattled.
“You want a do over to wash your hands of the guilt? Is that it?”
Dallon huffed and settled back in his chair. But he didn’t say anything.
“I hate being hated. Okay, there I said it. Damien didn’t want to be in the job but didn’t want to walk away voluntarily.” He focused on Damien. “Your actions had an effect on your team and the company. You can’t have one foot in and your mind out there—and this was for months.” Unlike his business skills at navigating treacherous waters, he truly didn’t know how to fix the bridge between him and his brothers.
Damien, with head downcast, fiddled with the remaining fruit on his plate. Meanwhile, Dallon swirled the dregs of coffee in his cup.
“I’m sorry, Damien.” Making up with his brother was beyond just getting his father’s approval. He simply couldn’t succeed and have peace of mind without his brothers’ support and forgiveness. “Truly sorry.”
Damien pushed back his chair from the table, took a deep breath and blew out. His expression remained unreadable, then he stood and straightened his clothes.
Dallon tensed. His hand no longer played with the coffee cup. His hands gripped the table.
It wouldn’t be the first time that Damien and Dane took out their anger on each other like heavyweight boxers. Although it had been a few years since the last brawl, their reputation still hung over them as a strong possibility of the final solution.
Damien walked up and then offered his hand.
Dane tentatively took it. His eyes shifted over to Dallon for assistance to read the current situation. His eldest brother’s eyes widened, but all he gave was a shrug.
“Look … everything you said is true. And I am happier doing my own thing with electric racing cars. Plus, I’m in love.” Damien stepped back. “I really shouldn’t act like a wounded jackass. Except it is fun to give you a hard time.”
Dane exhaled, not realizing that he’d held his breath. His heart swelled with emotion. Before he got too emotional, he embraced his brother.
“Damn, that’s a first,” Dallon commented from the table. “I would join in on the brotherly hug, but this coffee is too damned good. And if anyone walked in and saw us hugging, it would break the illusion that we hated each other.”
“Besides, you are the resident crier,” Damien teased.
“Bonding time over.” Dane clapped his hands and headed for his seat. “Back to Yasmin Mariman and why I don’t trust her.”
“Listening,” Dallon said.
“All ears.” Damien resumed his seat.
“Yasmin earned a reputation as being a cunning, cold-hearted business woman.”
“For a second there, I thought you were going to use the B-word.” Dallon tutted.
“She’s been called that too.” Dane couldn’t wait to meet her, to see if his intuition was true that she’d deliberately reached out to their company for ulterior motives.
“Don’t tell me you’ve started a file on her.” Dallon covered his mouth, which did little to stem the bark of laughter.
“Of course, her antics in the media spotlight keeps the file full.” Dane didn’t feel any discomfort taking the preemptive position.
In his gut, he was certain that this was a brazen attempt to step into their turf and carve a chunk out of his father’s legacy. He was sure that Farrokh had sent his daughter to be the messenger to carry out the invasion onto their territory.
“You’re pretty scary. Your face is lit up like this is a fun exercise.” Dallon wagged his finger at him.
Dane smirked at the truth. “Damien can be the charmer. You can be everyone’s best friend. I will be the…”
“Chief,” Damien finished, but this time he didn’t have the hurt and anger in his tone.
Dane smiled and offered a slight bow. “Not yet, but soon. And Yasmin Mariman just might be the ticket to my next plan of action. Because while she is here testing the waters in Monaco. I suggest we put out feelers for Dubai. Let the Titans challenge each other. And we’ll show them a real power play.”
“Now look here … you’re overthinking this situation. Relax. Doesn’t always have to be about work.” Damien’s romance with Anna certainly had put him on the mellow side of life. “Is there a small chance that she truly is here for fun and the sun. Hell, maybe she could be a necessary distraction for you? In between your campaign, you might sway her to your side.” He winked and chuckled over Dane’s discomfort.
“I don’t need any distractions,” Dane added a bit of force behind the words.
As Dane had gathered the intel on Yasmin, of course, he’d come across photos of the Persian beauty. Bold features with big, expressive eyes. Its colors were swirls of olive and amber. She looked directly at the camera with an appealing confidence in the tilt of her chin where a slight dimple was present. She’d be an artist’s treasure for the distinctive lines of her eyebrows that arched high over her eyes that gave way to the prominent nose. This woman was beautiful, proud and self-aware. As he’d lingered over the full, wide mouth that exhibited its own Mona Lisa smile, he wondered what her voice sounded like when she spoke. He imagined a soft, but steely edge. He couldn’t help the bubble of excitement.
His scrutiny hadn’t missed a detail. She didn’t boast an athlete’s physique or model-thin dimensions. Her curves shaped a generous silhouette, a style that reminded him of the Hollywood golden age era when the voluptuous Sophia Loren and Gina Lollobrigida wowed the men of Monaco.
“Maybe Yasmin should come in and turn your world upside down. Soften you up around the edges. I’m voting for her and I haven’t met the young lady.” Dallon laughed at him.
Dane snorted. “Think of her as the enemy until evidence proves otherwise. In any case, I’m a lost cause for that romantic nonsense, no offense, Damien. But my heart only has one agenda. And it isn’t going to be a dark-haired, spoiled princess.”
“That alone makes me give one vote for Yasmin.” Damien held up his coffee cup and tapped against Dallon’s raised one.
“Count me in. Team Yasmin.” Dallon laughed at Dane’s irritation.
“Time for you, both, to get out.” Dane stood to end the meeting. Nothing more productive would come out of it.
Dallon and Damien left the house refusing to mute their teasing. Their laughter stayed in his head well after they’d driven off.
As he looked out over his backyard nibbling on an apple slice, he fixated on his plan.
Despite the good looks and good fortune that boosted Yasmin’s lavish tastes, she wasn’t to be underestimated. He’d studied her business decisions as head of the recently created commercial real estate division. Behind the power moves, she didn’t shy away from a challenge. Her confidence bordered on arrogance with a stamina to fight hard for what she wanted.
He was very intrigued. “Unlike my brothers, Yasmin Mariman, I’ll be ready for you.”
CHAPTER TWO
Yasmin Mariman admired the overhead view of the French Riviera. Hopefully, a new chapter to mark her ambitious plan. The private plane had received the go-ahead to land in Nice since there were no airports in Monaco. Instead of the helicopter ride to the principality, she opted for ground transportation to get her to Monaco.
She’d use the private limo sent on her behalf from Laurent Holdings. A private sh
uttle would bus her entourage to the hotel. Despite the inconvenience of no airport, she looked forward to treating this tiny principality like her private playground.
Yasmin opened a Pernod Ricard Perrier Jouet champagne bottle and poured the decadently expensive, but personalized-to-taste liquid gold into her glass. She sucked in a mouthful of champagne and let it rest on her tongue before she swallowed. Exquisite. A serene smile settled into place for the remainder of the ride. Life was about to get interesting.
The closer she got to the tiny kingdom of Monaco, the more confident she was of her vision—dig in, then take over the luxury real estate market, thereby burying her father’s friend-turned-betrayer. She swallowed another mouthful of champagne. Revenge tasted particularly sweet today.
The flight attendant prompted them to ready for landing. Yasmin was eager to comply as it brought her closer to her starting point. Her mind raced through the day’s schedule that started with meeting Dane Laurent. A sharp disappointment to be handed down to the youngest Laurent when she expected to meet the head of the clan—Philippe. Guess she’d make do with the heir to the throne for the short term.
Her vendetta was against his father.
She’d agreed to meet with the pup. He’d do until she got what she wanted. All the intel about Dane that she’d paid for now resided in her brain. The youngest of the family seem to have a natural tendency toward arrogance. And from what she’d read, the history with his brothers proved that he could be conniving, as well as loyal.
He displayed sparks of independence with his business moves to diversify Laurent Holdings away from the real estate business. Meanwhile, the aversion to anyone outside the family entering the inner circle matched his father’s tight-knit inner circle where the Laurent brothers served as advisers.
Yasmin unsnapped her make-up compact and checked her appearance in the mirror. She touched up with an additional layer of lipstick and finished with few dabs of powder to her nose and forehead to cut the sheen. If she couldn’t get to Philippe right away, she had the time and patience to plan and set ablaze his inner circle. Disrupt and destroy.
The plane descended over the Mediterranean Sea with wheels smoothly touching down. They taxied with the main airport on the left and majestic Alps in a wide arc along the horizon. Per the schedule, they’d arrived on time. Now the plane continued to the private terminal that offered its exclusive patrons necessary privacy.
Excitement didn’t need to stir within her. She was on a constant high of adrenalin once she’d boarded the plane for Monaco. No part of this plan was sanctioned by her father. But she’d never intended to get his blessing.
Instead, she would reclaim her father’s interests, with the bonus of Philippe’s apology. This was a gift to her father. None of her brothers cared about righting wrongs. Lying down, turning the other cheek, surrendering had no place in her heart. The Mariman legacy was as important, if not more than the Laurent’s.
“Will we be going to the hotel before heading to Laurent’s headquarters?” Sheera, her assistant, asked without looking up, as she scrolled through her phone. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the tiny keyboard answering Yasmin’s emails.
“Straight to Laurent’s office. Any outstanding details about our condos should be squared away. Means that we might be at the hotel for one night.”
“I could have taken care of this without having to go through this unnecessary exercise.” Sheera wasn’t privy to the full extent of Yasmin’s plan and her frustration showed in the subtle scolding.
It wasn’t in Yasmin’s nature to need a confidante. Her assistant who had become a friend had been with her long enough to know that Yasmin preferred working on projects without too much input or sharing until progress had reached a certain point.
In this case, no one needed to know her plans or intentions until the boulder had started rolling down the mountain. She readily relied on gut instinct. Win or lose. Having any critic’s doubts rattling around in her brain couldn’t happen.
“You have a list of to do’s. No need to add this one,” Yasmin said.
“As you wish.” Sheera’s eyebrows settled low pushed down by her frown. “Will you be free for the remainder of the afternoon?”
“Not sure, I’m going off-script. But, go ahead and set up separate meetings with Bellaire and Mainard. Make sure that they will see each other as one meeting ends and the other begins.” Yasmin tapped her blood red polished nails on the armrest as she mulled over the stage she’d be setting. “And have the meetings at my hotel suite.” Yasmin hesitated over the next decision. She’d never played this close to the fire. “I might have a late-night guest. If so, I want no interruptions. I’ll let you know.”
To Sheera’s credit, her face didn’t reflect any curiosity for the guest’s identity. Her thumbs continued their mad typing as Yasmin added to the to do list.
The plane door opened and the warm temperature of Nice welcomed her. With a hand against her belly to stop the nerves, she took a few seconds to calm herself. She refused to look too hard at the reason. Everything had been planned to the smallest detail. Even her clothes choice turned into a production with her sister and Sheera weighing in. Although she couldn’t elaborate on what she needed to accomplish her small supportive network worked as a team to get her to this point. To calm herself, she tried not to second guess what she now wore.
Considering the weather and how the ensemble looked on her, she’d gone with a crisp white pantsuit. Against the soft brown of her skin, the effect was striking, as she wanted. Thanks to the genes of both parents, she was just under six feet. But she preferred the additional five inches thanks to Louboutin footwear. Per her research of Dane Laurent, she’d have two inches above him. She sucked in her lip to prevent smiling, but she looked forward to peering down at him when they met.
Yasmin stepped out of the plane and surveyed the busy atmosphere of the airport. No pomp and circumstance with her arrival. The entourage was on a commercial jet and was probably going to be stuck in the customs line for a bit. In the meantime, she’d quietly enter the country.
When the most opportune time presented itself, she’d make a splash to court the media and her colleagues in the industry that a serious player was in town.
“Anything wrong?” Sheera asked since Yasmin hadn’t budged.
“Nope. All is well.” Yasmin took an exaggerated deep breath and exhaled. “Let us proceed ahead with our invasion of Monaco.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Yasmin’s clout and diplomatic passport expedited her entry into Monaco. Beyond the restricted area, she spotted her driver who waved to her. With no sense of urgency, she approached him and introduced herself.
He offered a curt nod. “I’m Richard Salvetti. Mr. Laurent has assigned me as your driver.”
Yasmin nodded. “And you knew it was me?” He showed a photograph of her professional headshot photo displayed on his phone. “Okay. Laurent’s office, then.”
“As you wish.”
He only nodded.
Yasmin parted ways with Sheera, who would take the lead with the rest of the staff. In the meantime, she’d have a private one-on-one with Dane. By the evening, she’d meet with the smaller competitors of Laurent. It would give the impression that she considered buying out the competition. A little hiccup in the local industry pleased her, especially with Laurent Holdings sitting comfortably at the top of the heap. More than likely her strategy would be met with derision and the usual analysis about her skills.
Big mistake on their part.
Not only had she studied at the prestigious London Business School, she had interned with two of the world’s richest real estate moguls in China and Germany. Favors granted for inner sanctum access to her father. But she didn’t squander the opportunity to feed her understanding of the market’s volatility and the real estate sweet spots unfolding around the world.
It was because of her understanding of the business that her father gave her the commercial real estate
division to manage. A powerful message sent to the industry, but also within the company, including her brothers who were often dismissive of her abilities.
While the men closed rank and dominated the real estate arena, many didn’t show her respect or think that she had a brain for the business. In their estimation, women with money were to be appeased and indulged or treated as the storefront for the man with the smarts.
On the surface, Monaco wasn’t on her radar except as a place to hang out and rub elbows with her Hollywood friends. The region wouldn’t add significant gains to the company’s overall assets. The field was tight with Laurent Holdings and the Grimaldi royal family holding sizeable market shares. But this was purely personal. The epic takedown would have the tremors to match the aftershock of a major earthquake. Bringing the Laurents to their knees promised to satisfy her appetite for vengeance.
She was ready to light the fuse.
The driver opened the limo’s door. As she was about to step in, she saw a partial view of a pair of legs—a man’s—outstretched and casually crossed at the ankles. She hesitated for a second before folding her body and sliding into the car’s cool interior.
“Welcome to Monaco. I’m Dane Laurent.”
He was a step ahead of her.
Yasmin stomped down on any outward reaction and took proffered hand and shook it. Firm. Steady.
“Would you care for a beverage?” His voice had a deep rich timbre that could narrate a spy thriller audiobook. His expression remained neutral, but his direct gaze didn’t fool her.
“Was actually planning to finish this. Maybe you’d like to share.” She handed over her bottle of champagne that she’d taken from the plane.
He took the bottle and poured. “I don’t drink.” He handed the glass to her but raised a water bottle in a toast. “To happy memories yet to be made.”
She sipped daintily. “I’m sure that we’ll be talking about this visit long after we’ve left your hospitality.” Both a promise and a threat.
To Tempt A Billionaire (Men of Monaco Book 2) Page 2
