Chapter 1

Zach

I lifted my head from the pillow and tried to figure out who was hammering in my ear in the middle of the night. I checked my Apple Watch for the time. Oh. It was 9 a.m.

I wasn’t in the habit of getting up before noon — hell, I didn’t get up at all if I could avoid it. It had been weeks since everyone stopped bothering to get me out of the house. My brother had quit visiting, and even the members of the board who relied on me to keep the business ticking seemed to accept I wasn’t going to emerge from my bed any time soon.

Life was too fucking much these days. I’d gone from top of the world to the pits of hell in a split-second, and the fall from top to bottom had knocked all the air out of me. I still hadn’t caught my breath. This was the worst I’d ever felt in my life.

First of all, my dad died, unexpectedly. Sad thing was, he seemed so full of life the last time I’d seen him, and just like that, he was gone. It still hurt to think about it, a deep void in my chest busting open every time I remembered he wasn’t with me anymore.

I threw myself at the business back when he was alive, reminding myself how proud he was of me and how deeply he wanted me to succeed. And I had exceeded all expectations, up until then. I’d come up with The Exchange, a new method of exchanging basic things that were applicable across dozens of industries. It had already made me millions of dollars and climbing. I worked my ass off for ten years to get it off the ground, and it had granted me the kind of lifestyle I’d always dreamed of. Fast cars, hot women, a big house in the country and a penthouse in the middle of the city. Yes, life was great back then. But now, this enormous mansion felt gaudy and garish and empty without anyone in it but me.

I’d put so much time into the business, I had none left for my personal life—not even my father. That was the final straw. I’d thought my fiancée would stick around through it all, but I was dead wrong. She took me aside, three months after Dad died, and I knew before she said anything where the conversation was going.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I muttered as she delivered the news. But all she did was blink at me sadly with those gorgeous gray eyes that had landed her on the front page of dozens of fashion magazines over the years.

“I don’t need to come first all the time, Zach,” she sighed. Then I noticed exhaustion in her voice that had been there the last few months. Only I hadn’t paid any attention to it until now. “But I have to come first some of the time,” she added.

And with that, she left. The last little thread that connected me to the real world pulled away, and I was left crashing to the ground . So, I retreated to my mansion and refused to come out.

At first, everyone seemed keen to allow me time to mourn my father—and my relationship. In fact, they indulged me. Even Johnny, my brother, gave me his blessing to take some time off for myself to heal from everything I’d been through. But, a few days turned into a few weeks, which turned into a few months, and before I knew it, I was lost in a full-blown depression. Listless and miserable, wondering what the fuck to do with my life and wanting everyone to leave me the hell alone.

My business was crumbling, the few friends I had before everything went south drifted away because, apparently, holding on to me was proving to be way too much effort.

Fuck ‘em.

I wouldn’t want to be stuck with someone like me either, not in the state I was in. Like some fairy-tale villain—miserable, angry and dismissive of human companionship—I wanted to be left alone. But be careful what you ask for, as they say. Because that’s what I got. Every last one of my so-called friends let me hide out in this stupid mansion I’d built for Alana and me so I could drown in an ocean of self-pity.

Boo-fucking-hoo.

So, what had woken me up? I sat up and looked around, then, I heard it again. A knock on the door. The sound had pierced through whatever fitful dream I’d been having and pulled me back into wakefulness. Not what I wanted at this god-awful hour of the morning. I growled at the noise. Who the fuck was here to see me now? No one I wanted to see, that was for goddamn sure. I buried my head under the pillow and willed the nuisance to go away.

The next knock was louder, and the one after sounded like a damn wrecking ball. Letting loose a few of my favorite four-letter words, I knew I’d have to deal with the unwelcome visitor if I hoped to get any peace, so I grabbed my robe from the edge of the bed, quickly wrapped myself up in it, and headed downstairs, my grumbles increasing with each step.

I took a peep through the doorbell camera viewer and saw a frazzled, nervous woman, tapping her foot on the step and glancing back at the door at periodic intervals. Do I know her? Should I know her?

She lifted her hand to knock again just as I pulled open the door. Her fist hung in mid-air, and she stared at as though I might be an ax murderer. I didn’t blame her. All the toothy press photos I’d taken for the PR stories on the company were null and void by now, with my beard grown out and my hair jutting at weird angles from my head, I certainly didn’t look like the owner of a mansion. The suits had been replaced by whatever smelled cleanest on my bedroom floor. But, all credit to her, the woman recovered her surprise, barely missing a beat before she introduced herself.

“I’m Jessibelle Adams.” She extended her hand, using the other to anchor a large pile of papers against her body. “Mr. Zach Rose?”

I grunted a yes.

“Good. I’m here to discuss asset management for your—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I snapped, my voice sounding funny even to my own ears. It had been a while since I’d spoken to anyone in person, and I was somewhat out of practice. She dropped her hand and raised her eyebrows at me, returning my bad manners by transforming her warm smile into a hard mask of irritation. In any other circumstance, I might have found her cute. She had a lush body, with all the right curves tucked into a neat pantsuit, with her light hair pulled into a bun on top of her head and a pair of heels that lifted her an extra few inches off the ground. But the circumstances were as they were, and some cute woman on my doorstep wasn’t going to change that.

“I’m here to talk about asset management,” she repeated, a little more crisply than before. “My firm set up an appointment with your assistant.”

“Yeah, well, tell them I don’t want to fucking talk about that right now.” I threw that back in her direction. I could have slammed the door in her face, but that felt unnecessarily rude and unpleasant. I knew she hadn’t come here because she wanted to, but because she had to do her job, and I wasn’t going to punish her for that. I turned away, instead, and headed back into the house. She’d get the message. They usually did.

To my surprise, footsteps followed me over the threshold, the unmistakable sound of heels tapping the cool marble floor. It was dark in the entryway because I couldn’t be bothered to flick on the light. Yet to my surprise she was still following me. I had stuff I wanted to do this morning, and she’d have to get on board with it if she wanted to stick around. Stuff like going back to sleep.

“Mr. Rose.” She spoke with uncertainty in her voice. “We really need to discuss—”

As a diversionary tactic I ducked into the pool room. Surely, she’d get the message and back off now. However, I wasn’t able to hear her over the hissing and grinding of the gears as the pool cover automatically retracted when I walked in. It seemed like such a cool feature when we’d had it installed, but now it was a pain to wait for it to pull all the way back so I could take my morning dip.

When I glanced over my shoulder, there she was. She’d followed me into the pool room. She looked so out-of-place standing there, awkwardly looking around and clutching the papers to her chest. I almost burst out laughing, the most emotion I’d shown all damn week. Instead, I watched as the cover retracted completely and then dropped the robe to the ground, letting it pool at my feet before stepping out of it.

I heard a sharp intake of breath from behind me. Well, she was the one who wanted to follow me into the house. She’d have to handle everything that came with that, even if it was my nakedness. I dove into the pool, letting the warm, clear water wash over me and wipe away some of the sleep still clinging to my system. Swimming was one of the only things I’d been able to keep up since I’d retreated to this place in the middle of the country, mainly because it didn’t require me to leave the house.

I began to swim the usual lengths I did every day and threw occasional glances at the pretty woman. Was she going anywhere? She just stood there, not moving a muscle, not allowing me to bother her or get under her skin, her eyes fixed dead ahead as though worried that if she looked at me, something terrible might happen. What? A boner? Not in this water.

Her face was flushed bright red. Was nakedness really that bad? Or was I just that out of touch with the rest of humanity? Either one was perfectly likely.

I wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but I had to give her some credit for not giving up and storming off as soon as my robe hit the floor. Eventually, something in her snapped. A sharp “fuck it” expression on her face told me she’d had enough of dealing with my bullshit and wasn’t going to indulge me any further. She slammed down the thick stack of papers on a small table next to one of the lounge chairs that lined the edge of the pool. One of them fluttered off the top, and she grabbed it out of the air and slammed it back on top of the pile, crossing her arms angrily and staring down at it as if daring it to move again. I popped my head above water just long enough to hear the words she threw in my direction.

“You’re an asshole!”

And something about her final proclamation—the hatred with which she’d said the words and the way she’d marched for the door like she had better things to do than pandering to my ego—piqued my interest. I leaned up on the edge of the pool and watched her turn back and glare at me, and for the first time in a long time, I grinned. Her eyebrows knitted together in a fury, and I raised mine at her, daring her to go further.

And of course, she did.