To save her failing family empire, the stunning yet feisty heiress Jada Sinclair must find a way to keep the Sinclair Winery in the family. She is barely keeping things afloat due to her father's bad business decisions. The only person who can help her family is the multi-billionaire tycoon Max Brunetti. Can she trust him, or will she be selling her soul to the devil himself?
Ruthless and powerful, Max Brunetti wants to take over the Sinclair Vineyard to expand his own family corporation, and he will do everything in his power to get it. In order to gain the vineyard, he needs to make the Sinclair family an offer they cannot refuse. And he knows exactly what he wants in return.
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*The Barossa Valley is one of Australia's oldest wine regions. Located in South Australia, the Barossa Valley is about 56 km northeast of the city of Adelaide.
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PROLOGUE
Sydney, Australia
Jada
"Holy hell, Jada, you look amazing!” my best friend Mia Brunetti shrieked. "You’re going to knock everyone dead tonight! Everyone at that awards ceremony is going to go crazy when they see you in this hot number. It is so elegant, yet so sexy!"
Looking at my reflection in the mirror made me smile with appreciation. Yes, the gown I was wearing was a stunning creation, specifically designed for me by the famous Australian designer Paolo Sebastian.
It was a beautiful, light and sheer nude-coloured gown. Reminiscent of the early 1950s styles and inspired by style icons such as Marie Antoinette and Audrey Hepburn. The bodice was sheer and tight, and it fit my torso like a glove. Covering my breasts were beaded embellishments that typify a Paolo Sebastian gown. The skirt was free flowing with delicate layers of tulle, making it glistening and romantic. Yes, it was ‘sexy', as Mia described, exposing a hint of my bare, tanned legs with every graceful step I took. My tie-up satin heels resembled high-heeled ballet flats. With the gown’s neckline, there was no need for a necklace. My blonde tresses had been gracefully swept in an up-do, and I opted for simple, classic teardrop earrings.
My life was blessed. I had my best friend Mia with me by my side, helping me prepare for the Arenas. National and international actors, actresses, models and entertainers gathered to celebrate the Australian fashion industry on this one glamorous night.
As one of Australia's top models, I had been invited to present the award for Australian Fashion Designer of the year. What an honour and privilege this night was for me! I had worked so hard over the past eight years to make my modelling career a success.
My life had changed so much from growing up as a child in the beautiful wine country of the Barossa Valley in Adelaide. This was something I always looked back on with fond memories. I had been living away from home for over eight years, and I really missed my parents, my younger sister and my friends, especially Mia. She was like another sister to me. Mia was the greatest friend a girl could ever wish for.
Being based in Sydney and travelling to the most amazing destinations all over the world was beyond my wildest dreams. Life couldn't get any more exciting than this; I was truly blessed.
My life was perfect. Just perfect.
******
I could taste blood.
I could feel blood.
I could see blood.
I could smell blood.
Where was all this blood coming from? I had no idea. I was in so much pain.
The moment his fist connected with my face, blood splattered everywhere; that was how hard he hit me. I tumbled to the floor, hitting my head on the marble top of the dresser in my dressing room. I felt extreme pain everywhere.
Tonight would be the night I died. Tate Turner was going to kill me; I was sure of it.
He was so angry, so relentless, using the force of his fist to punch me continuously. I could feel the harsh impact of his bony knuckles connecting with my body with every blow. His big, thick hands were so forceful that I was beginning to feel giddy and dizzy. It was only a matter of time before I would pass out.
I could barely make out his face through all the blood that was dripping from my own face. mine. It trickled from my nose and went into my mouth. He was looking at me with an evil grin, laughing. The look on his face was a look of extreme hatred.
"Get up, bitch!" he yelled.
I tried my hardest to get up, but as I slowly stood, the room began to sway and I flopped back down again, causing me to wince from the pain.
He walked toward me, rolled me over onto my side, and continued to scream at me, "Did you hear me? I said get the fuck up, bitch!"
Agonizing pain coursed through my body as he proceeded to kick me, over and over again, repeating the same action in the same spot on my stomach. It hurt so damn much. I was convinced he was wearing steel-capped boots because I could feel something piercing into my abdomen.
Holy shit! My head. My stomach...Oh, God, it hurts. I can't...breathe. Every breath I tried to take made my head feel like it was going to explode. My abdomen was now cramping up and seizing like a vise from the amount of times he'd brutally kicked me.