Prologue
Divorce.
His throat closed up even thinking the word. He was twenty-eight years old and had conquered the universe or thought he had.
No! He had.
Then his picture perfect world had shattered with one single word.
Divorce.
He’d been respectable, always treating women with admiration. He hadn’t jumped into marriage at twenty-one, but dated the same woman for three years, cherished her, gave her everything. He thought he’d found perfection, but he was disillusioned.
Raffaello Palazzo sat straight up, his eyes narrowed.
No! He wasn’t this man.
He wouldn’t grovel.
“Goodbye.”
He barely glanced up as Sharron walked past, her five-thousand dollar purse slung over her shoulder, flaunting the smirk on her face as she slammed the door in all its finality.
A few of her complaints against him were that he worked too much and didn’t give her the attention she thought she deserved. With the simple slamming of a door, she was gone.
He was grateful she was. When he’d walked in the week before, carrying roses, attempting to give her more attention, he’d seen that she wasn’t choosy about where her attention came from. She’d been in bed with his business partner.
Rafe’s eyes closed as he momentarily pictured that moment;
“Are you cutting out on us?”
“It’s my anniversary. My wife’s favorite flower is the Hawaiian Flora. I had them express delivered to the floral shop and I’m picking up her bouquet, then taking her on a surprise trip to Paris where we celebrated our honeymoon.”
“You’re the most whipped man I know, Rafe,” his assistant, Mario, said with a smile.
“I’m half Italian. My father taught me how to cherish a woman,” Rafe replied, not offended in the least. He only hoped to have as strong of a marriage as his parents for just as long.
“When does Ryan get back? If you’re cutting out, I need one of the business partners here to get work done.”
“He’s flying in on Friday. I spoke to him a few days ago and he met someone. We’re going to meet her next week.”
“I can’t take anymore. Get out of here before all the love catches. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Night, Mario. Thanks for all the hard work this week.”
Rafe waved to his faithful assistant as he headed for the door. Life was great – his corporation was flourishing without help from his family, and his personal life couldn’t be better.
It didn’t take Rafe long to reach the florist and then arrive home. When he couldn’t find Sharron downstairs, he smiled in anticipation. Hopefully, she was stretched out on the bed in a sexy nighty.
When Rafe opened the door, he found her in bed scantily dressed, but she wasn’t alone. He froze as shock filled him.
“Oh, Ryan,” Sharron screamed, and Rafe’s illusions of happily ever after shattered.
Silently, he stood in the dim light as one of his two best friends screwed his wife. It had been Ryan, Shane and him since middle school, always sharing – always there for one another. Rafe guessed Ryan figured Rafe’s wife was included in what Rafe was willing to share. He was wrong.
Rafe cleared his throat as Sharron cried out again in pleasure. The two of them froze – locked in their torrid embrace – before their head’s turned and looked at him in horror.
Rafe walked from the room and waited downstairs. Ryan scurried from the house. Sharron ran after Rafe, begging for forgiveness.
Rafe shook off the unpleasant memory as he glanced around him. For a single moment, he’d been shattered. He’d sacrificed so much of himself to please her – give her what she wanted, but none of that was enough. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
Rafe walked up the steps and peered warily at his bedroom furnishings as he stood, looking around at where he’d slept beside her night after night. He left the room and made his way toward his luxury kitchen. No memories lingered there. It wasn’t like his wife had known the first thing about cooking.
He had a full staff, which was a good thing or his house would be in shambles and he’d never get fed. Sharron hadn’t been domestic in the least. He hadn’t cared – all he’d wanted was to have the same kind of family with her as he’d grown up with. Before this moment, he’d been under the sad allusion that marriages all had happy endings.
As cold silence hung around him like a shroud of darkness and Rafe was grateful he’d sent his staff away for the day. No one needed to witness his failure.
Failure.
He rolled the word around on his tongue. It didn’t sound right. How could it? Failure was a foreign concept to him. He’d been born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. His mother liked to tease him, saying he was an old soul in a young body. She was the only one who could get away with a remark like that. He adored his mother. Well, to be fair, his sisters got away with it, too.
He had a feeling all his family members would be relieved to hear of the divorce, especially his mother, though she’d never admit it to him. She had tried to get close to his soon to be ex-wife, but Sharron hadn’t had any desire to know his family. Her attitude had gone unnoticed while the two of them were dating. Six months out of the year his family resided in Italy and the other six months in California.
Sharron had been great at making up excuses as to why she couldn’t visit with them. He hadn’t noticed her disdain or he never would’ve become so serious. He’d been raised to believe that family always came first. Soon, he’d stayed behind to please his wife. He’d done a lot of things to make the woman happy.
Apparently none of it had been enough.
With a last glance around the room, he lifted his cell phone. His dialed call was picked up on the other end of the line before it had a chance to ring twice.
“Sell the house. I want nothing in it,” Rafe spoke in clipped tones to his assistant.
“Yes, sir.” There was no arguing. Mario had been an employee of his from the day he’d started his billion dollar corporation. The man was loyal, efficient, and trustworthy. Rafe couldn’t imagine how much harder his job would become without his favorite employee.
Rafe had learned everything from his dad, Martin Palazzo. His father had made millions in the stock market, then later in smart real-estate investments. Martin had met, Rosabella, Rafe’s mother while he was traveling for business in Italy. The two of them had been inseparable since, but Rosabella couldn’t stand to stay away from her homeland for more than six months at a time, which was why Rafe had spent half his childhood in Italy and half in the United States.
Because of his multicultural upbringing, he was much more prepared to take on the Global Business structure he’d adapted. He was a fierce businessman and loyal to the end for those he loved. After today, trust would be something he held much closer to his heart and only gave away with caution.
Rafe had decided from an early age that he needed to make his own way in life – not just have everything handed to him by his wealthy parents. He wasn’t stupid, though. He’d taken his father’s advice, even did business with him, but Rafe had dreamed big – and turning that dream into reality had taken him less than ten years.
When he walked into his twenty-five story office building in San Francisco, he felt pride. He created jobs for hundreds of thousands of people throughout the world, gave them an income, made sure they went to bed each night with a full stomach and the security of more work to be done in the morning.
He gave so much – and unlike his soon to be ex-wife, his employees were grateful and thought he was equivalent to a king. Sharron had thrown everything he’d given her right back in his face.
Rafe was finished with women. Well, he thought with an arrogant smirk, finished with playing the good guy. It was his turn to take what he wanted. Never again would he be used – never again would he put his heart out there to be carelessly trampled upon.
Walking purposefully out his front door, he refused to even turn around to watch the final latching of the lock. When he was through with something, it was over, and as far as he was concerned, he was done with the house.
Placing his hand on the cool metal handle on the door of his sleek black Bentley, he heard the familiar click as the door released. As he climbed into the plush leather seat, he was oblivious to the fresh pungent smell of the smooth leather upholstery.
Quickly pulling out of the driveway, Rafe began heading the short distance toward the city of San Francisco where he had a condo a couple blocks from his office building. Luckily, Sharron had refused to stay in the city on the many late nights he’d worked, causing him to sleep there. The apartment was his – his alone.
If she’d so much as tainted the doorway of the roomy penthouse apartment, he’d sell it as well. He wanted no reminders of the woman to remain in his life. He wanted a fresh slate. The last eight years back is what he wanted most of all, but since that was impossible to achieve, he’d simply have to erase her completely from his life.
A few more phone calls and that would be done.