Cinderella's Billion-Dollar Christmas. Susan MeierЧитать онлайн книгу.
sibling had been killed.
But that was five years ago, and he didn’t think the story even popped up in internet searches anymore.
“Come on. Nobody meets a guy like Hinton without a story.”
“I did.”
That part was true. He’d met Mark Hinton in Dubai. They’d gambled. They’d skydived. They’d talked money. Especially investment strategy. In Nick’s world, there was nothing special about any of that. After Mark decided to trust Kourakis Money Management with most of his fortune, they’d had meetings on his yachts or while fishing in the Florida Keys. They drank tequila, talked about his financial goals and even about the kids who were now Mark’s heirs. Though never while Mark was sober. Powerful men didn’t admit weakness or failures without a nudge. Mark’s nudge was alcohol. With enough tequila, Mark would talk about his kids—without mentioning their names—and Nick would nurse his regret and sorrow over his brother’s death. That was why Mark was comfortable with Nick. Even with a thirty-year age difference, they understood each other. Understood mistakes. Understood regret.
Even now, it trickled from his subconscious to the front of his brain. He’d been too confident, cocky even. His brother hadn’t wanted to go out that night. His parents hadn’t wanted them to go. But he’d been so sure—
He was always so sure.
After Joe’s death, he’d had to stop jet-setting, return to New York and take over the family business.
But he was still the same guy deep down inside. Instead of taking risks on the slopes or in the sky, he played with money.
And no one beat him.
Ever.
He’d gotten so good at what he did that he liked it. Until he recalled the reason why he was the “New Wolf.” Even now, the grief of losing his brother sent guilt oozing through him.
He didn’t understand what had happened to him in that diner that he’d forgotten Joe, forgotten his guilt and laughed with someone he barely knew. But when they returned to New York, he’d be focused again, diligent. If he was going to lose even part of the Hinton money when the estate was settled and one or two of the heirs decided to hire new money management, he’d have to find big investors to replace it.
He would not let his parents down twice.
Leni’s mom only worked until two o’clock, but Leni’s shift didn’t end until three. Having evaded her questions about Nick Kourakis, taking Nick’s warnings seriously about the complications of people finding out she might be an heiress, Leni raced home and found her parents in the kitchen.
“Hey.”
Sitting at the center island, her dad looked up from his newspaper.
Her mom glanced over from the stove. “Hey. Finally going to tell us what the guy in the overcoat wanted?”
Leni forced a smile. Denise and Jake Long had adopted her when she was in the gangly stage for a little girl. No longer an adorable infant or cute toddler, with a bit of a history of being difficult at school, most potential parents overlooked her. The Longs had given her a home, made her their daughter. Now she didn’t merely know she had a biological mom out there somewhere who had given her up; she might have had a rich dad who hadn’t wanted her at all.
Once again, she thanked God for her adoptive parents.
She took a seat beside her dad. “First, what I’m about to say is a secret. So, you can’t tell anybody.”
Her mom said, “Okay,” as her dad nodded.
“The guy in the overcoat was Nick Kourakis. He owns a management firm in New York, and he told me that I might have inherited some money.”
Her dad’s weathered face brightened. A lifelong construction worker, he had wrinkles around his eyes that appeared when he smiled. “Well, that’s great!”
Her mother gasped and walked over from the stove to hug Leni. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not assured. I have to go to New York. There will also be a DNA test to confirm my identity. Honestly, I won’t quite believe all this is true until DNA says I’m an heir. So, our not mentioning this to anybody protects me from embarrassing myself if it doesn’t pan out.”
Part of her almost wished it wouldn’t. If her biological father had been a struggling factory worker, she could have understood him not being able to take responsibility for her, but a guy who was rich and not paying child support, forcing her mom to give her up when she got sick? When it was a decision between the medicine she needed and feeding her child?
It was demeaning, insulting, infuriating.
She’d have to deal with that if Mark Hinton really was her biological father. Those feelings would all go away if he wasn’t.
Her dad leaned back in his chair. “It’s always good not to get your hopes up, Kitten. But maybe this family’s due for some good luck?”
And that was the catch. Part of her would like to tell Nick Kourakis to take her biological dad’s money and shove it. She was educated now. She had a career path. She would be fine.
But her parents wouldn’t.
They’d never ask her for a dime, but she wouldn’t make them ask. If she’d inherited enough money to care for her dad, she wanted it.
“Okay.” She slid off her chair. “I’m going upstairs to do some investigating into everything. I’m not getting on a plane with a guy I don’t know.”
Her dad smiled. “That’s smart, my girl.”
The simple comment hit her right in the heart. She was his girl. His girl. Not the child of some sperm donor who’d never even checked to see if she was okay.
That was not a father.
Almost twenty-four hours from when Leni had met him, Nick Kourakis and a man she didn’t recognize pulled into the driveway of the Long residence in the big, black SUV. Nick had looked up her parents’ home phone number and called her the night before to say they’d be leaving at ten o’clock. He’d given her time to research him and his firm, to talk to her parents and to pack for a couple weeks in Manhattan, but that was it. They needed to get her safely to New York.
Her breath frosty in the cold, last-day-of-November air, she hugged and kissed her short, curly-haired mom and balding dad, saying goodbye at the front door of their house, her conflicted feelings about Mark Hinton dogging her.
Nick handed Danny Manelli’s business card to her parents, telling them that he was the lawyer in charge of the estate and if they had any questions, they could call him. Then he introduced her to Jace MacDonald, the guy in the black leather jacket who directed her to the back seat of the SUV. Nick got in beside her.
She frowned at the empty passenger’s seat in the front.
“Jace owns Around the World Security. He’ll be your bodyguard while you’re in New York.”
She gaped at Nick. “Bodyguard?”
Jace caught her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Trust me. If you’re worth billions, you’ll need one.”
She huffed out a breath. “Billions?”
Nick laughed. “Yes. Mark Hinton had billions. With an s. Plural. As in many billions.”
“I know. I researched him last night, too. It’s just so hard to believe.”
She shook her head and looked out the window. The guy had billions and he had left her mom so broke she’d had to put Leni into foster care.