Prologue
Dante
TEN SECONDS . . . FIVE SECONDS . . . ONE SECOND . . .
That was all it took. My letters would tell her my story. In her eyes, I would be made whole. Those few seconds would give me the chance to begin.
I leaned against the wall and gazed out the window of my villa in solitude as I always did. I couldn’t help myself. The entrancing view of the beach that stretched to the blue ocean and mountains in the distance called to me every evening as I had a glass of Richebourg, my favorite brand of red wine, before supper. I told myself the view of the beach was the reason, but I knew that wasn’t the truth. It was her. She didn’t know I was watching her. She never knew.
I hid in the shadows within my villa, surrounded by a beautiful landscape with exquisite scenery between sunrise and sunset. I could have any woman I desired. There was no shortage of beautiful women willing to climb into my bed and comfort me until sundown. But none of that interested me . . . Not anymore. The only thing I wanted in this world was her—Isabella Kam.
She wasn’t the typical woman who would go for someone like me. She didn’t have fake breasts, doctored lips, or a surgically enhanced backside. None of those superficial traits interested me at all. It was her overwhelming sense of confidence that sparked my attention. Her pride, modesty, humbleness, and inner strength made my heart palpitate with the very mention of her name. Personality wise, I saw her as ambitious and kind—two traits that were rarely mutually inclusive.
Her name rang with such elegant ambience each time it escaped my lips. Her athletic build, silky black hair, firm backside, and full lips drove me mad with desire. I needed her.
We came from different industries, and our paths were likely never to cross, for now at least. However, I knew the moment I saw her speak at the Youths Convention that something about her was different. Her words touched my heart unlike any other woman’s had before. That’s when I knew. I wanted her and she would be mine.
To be closer to her, I purchased this luxurious villa next to her own. In a space that could house more than twenty people, I stayed here alone with my thoughts of her. The marble floors, large L-shaped sofas, leather lounge chairs, warm fireplace, and balcony doors that led out to the terrace were all too much for me, but I bought what I needed to be close to her. Ten million dollars was nothing in my world.
I would write it off as an investment, as I didn’t plan to stay here very long. Everything I did since seeing her again was to please my obsession. I thought of nothing else. Nonetheless, I never realized my proximity to her would compel me to watch the horror that she called a marriage.
Her narcissistic and abusive husband knew nothing of how to treat a woman of her stature. I saw the signs. I saw the betrayal—the multiple women who’d come in and out of that house at his beckoning call. She didn’t deserve this. I had strong faith in the monogamous nature of marriage, so I dared not make my move until their marriage ended. Never interfering in their so-called love until I knew for a fact that it was over was something I promised myself.
All the same, it grew harder each day to remain silent in the face of her beauty. As she sat on the beachfront alone, hair waving in the wind as though she were an angel placed on this earth to be viewed by me solely, I couldn’t help but wonder. What would it be like?
Her pain was mine to feel. The plight of her sadness despite all of her success filled me with regret for not pursuing her more vehemently when I had the chance. Why did women choose to give their hearts to men like him? Couldn’t she see the signs? Did she not hear the sounds of discontent and deviousness in his voice when he uttered the words I love you? Nothing could be further from the truth. I knew he didn’t love her.
As I gazed into the beachfront overlooking the water, I saw her—walking alone outside with a glass of wine, tears in her eyes. Her hair was like a stunning visual of black silk blowing in the wind. As much as my heart burned for it, I wouldn’t approach her. I promised never to set myself up for heartbreak. I knew nothing would come of it as long as she was still with her husband.
There must be something I could do to free her of this pain. That poor excuse of a man she called her soul mate was nothing compared to what I could do for her. Given his lack of career, job, stature, or manners, what the hell could she possibly see in him? That was something I must find out, no matter the cost. She would be mine. In those ten seconds I gazed upon her beauty from my villa, I vowed that I would know her—and her, me.