Chapter 1 Chapter 1

New York, twenty years prior….

“Give me your word, Harry!” Ethan McCrery barked at his long-time friend.

Harold Henry watched as Ethan held out his hand for him to take. The Irish man was in a black mood. He claimed to have been betrayed and although Harry couldn’t understand it, he had to go along with it. It had always been him and Ethan, they were the old money—the ones brought up in private boarding schools. They had each other’s backs. If Ethan got into a fight, Harry punched first then got the details later. He guessed this was one of those times.

Who would have thought a self-made man like Adrian Ross would fall for a maid.

And who would have thought Ethan would fall for the same maid? He should have learned his lesson about falling for women who weren’t tailored for him.

Harry hadn’t bothered dating outside his social level. His father had picked his wife, his mother had made the wedding and marriage arrangements. He had, as expected, turned up both at his wedding and in his southern bride’s bed. He hadn’t failed his family. His first-born son, Harry Junior, or Duke was the product of his honeymoon as a dutiful son and husband.

Harry watched as Ethan broke into a new rant cursing his college friend, calling him every profanity heard on Earth or in the fire pit of Hell.

“How could he do that to me? He knew I was interested in Rosalinda.” Ethan stopped his pacing, and his face took on an awe-struck look. It was as if he was in a dream state. “She’s so beautiful, so soft. And her wild raven hair just begs to be touched. It kills me that I haven’t touched her hair or kissed her sweet red lips. Dear God, I would have taken in her brat. I would have even let the little lass call me ‘papa!’”

“Ethan.” Harry cleared his throat. Fear of his friend’s Irish temper deterred him from asking, but his duty as a friend pushed him on. “What about your wife? How do you expect to marry Rosalinda when you are still married?”

“Do you think that’s a problem?” Ethan sneered, a calculating expression on his face. “I’ll serve the woman divorce papers today if it means I would get to have Rosalinda. My beautiful rose.”

“Elizabeth will not allow it. Her father left everything to you. Everything she owns you control. And what would happen to Ethan Junior? Think of your son, my friend.”

“I am. Rosalinda would be such a wonderful mother to him. And as for Elizabeth,” he waved his hand in the air as if anything to do with her didn’t matter. “I’ll settle her with a large fortune. She’ll sign Ethan’s custody to us without a problem.”

Harry took his phone from his pocket when it rang. When he listened, it was a message from Dennis, and it wasn’t good. He dreaded telling Ethan, but there was no other way around it. “Ethan, there’s news.”

“What? Speak up man!”

“Adrian and Rosalinda—”

“What about them?”

“They are married Ethan. It’s done. You’ve lost her.”

“Never!”

Harry took off after his friend as he ran out of the building, he worked in. He sat in the passenger seat as Ethan pushed away his driver and got into his seat.

“Maybe I should drive?”

“Shut up.”

Ethan pulled out of the driveway like the devil was on his heels. The car’s tires skidded along the road. Every couple of miles it protested at being abused. Harry had never feared dying in a road accident until today. Ethan barked at the other drivers on the road, swearing at the traffic lights whenever they turned red, picking up a cop car as a tail.

“Ethan, the police.”

“Shut up.”

Harry took in a much-needed breath of relief when they skidded to a halt in front of Adrian Ross’s apartment building. Ethan left the motor running as he rushed past the door man and into the lobby. He gave up on the elevator when it took too long to arrive and headed for the stairs, taking them three at a time, barging into the house. They walked into silence. Not the atmosphere to expect at a wedding reception.

“What’s going on?” Dennis walked in, his toddler scurrying behind him.

“Where is the rat? Where is that slimy excuse of a man? Only a coward would marry another man’s woman behind his back.”

The toddler began to cry, and Dennis cuddled him. His momentary distraction gave Ethan way to the garden balcony. They found the party there. Adrian Junior, and Rosalinda’s daughter played, as Isadora and Rosalinda watched. Adrian was nowhere to be seen.

“Rosalinda!” Ethan barked as he marched to her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind him as he headed for the exit.

“No!” Rosalinda screamed as she tried to loosen Ethan’s shackling grasp. “Adrian? Mi amor?”

“Mi amor?” Ethan sneered as he turned around to face her. “That man is not your love. I am. Do you hear me? We will get this farce of a marriage annulled. Then after my divorce from Elizabeth—we will get married.” He grinned, triumphantly. “Adrian Ross is not winning this one.”

“I already have—not that I knew there was a contest to win.” Adrian emerged from a back room; his fingers balled into fists at his sides. His six-foot-four frame towered over Ethan’s five-nine. The African American man would be well suited for the role as the black Hulk if it ever came about. “Release Rosalinda. I am asking you nicely, McCrery. I don’t want any trouble.”

Ethan barked out a sardonic laugh. He pulled Rosalinda against him, his hands possessively locking her in his grip. “Never. Why would she want you when she has me?”

“But—I don’t love you.” Rosalinda squirmed to get away, but the more she tried the tighter Ethan held her.

“You never gave us a chance, lass. I can love you.”

“What about Elizabeth!” Issadora shouted as she retrieved her wailing baby from her husband. “What about your son, your family, your obligations?”

“Hah! Dennis didn’t even want to marry you. You should be thanking me, or he would be in Hawaii with that island girl and—”

“Ethan!” Dennis warned.

“Ethan, let go of my wife. You are hurting her.” Adrian took a step toward them, and Ethan warned him off with a growl.

“Adrian,” Rosalinda whimpered. “Nuestro bebe…”

“Ethan, Rosalinda is pregnant. You are hurting her. She’s scared for the baby.” Adrian’s desperation etched his voice.

Harry thought it was a good time for him to step in. He rested his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. What was intended as a comforting gesture only irritated Ethan further.

“I can’t believe you did this to me, Ross.”

“I didn’t do anything. She chose me. Rosalinda and I have been through a lot. Our pain brought us together, our love for our children and our love for each other. We are building our family, Ethan. I suggest you go back to yours.”

“I will never forget this, Adrian Ross.” Ethan turned his rage to Rosalinda as he pushed her out of his hands. Luckily for her Adrian was there to catch her. “That should be my baby. You watch your back. I swear I’ll get you back for this. I swear.”

Harry was chasing after Ethan for the second time that day as they rushed out of the house.

“Promise me something, Harold.”

“What?”

“Make sure our paths don’t cross with those two. From now on Adrian Ross and Dennis Kent are dead to us. Promise me—give me your word of honor.”

“I promise.” It was a bitter promise to make, but Harold swore he would do his best to keep it, for, what were the odds their personal lives would ever collide again?