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I was ready to beg him. Virginia Hollis shuddered. She wrapped her arms around herself and peered through the rear window of the black Lincoln as it cruised through the dark streets of Chicago. People strolled through the neighborhood, hands in pockets and heads ducked to shield their faces from the cold wind. Men talked on their cell phones; women struggled with shopping bags. At first glance, it looked like a normal evening. But it wasn't. It couldn't be. Because Virginia's world had stopped turning. The men who had knocked on her door that morning had given her a message, and it wasn't a pleasant one. She took a deep breath and looked at the black dress and the delicate heels on her feet. It was important to look beautiful; not just respectable, but sophisticated and noble, because the favor she was going to ask was anything but. And she couldn't think of anyone else she could ask. Just thinking about humiliating herself in front of him like that made her stomach clench. Nervously, she tugged at the pearl necklace that adorned her neck and tried to focus on the city again.
The pearls felt soft under her fingers, genuine and ancient, the only thing Virginia had managed to save from her mother's belongings. His father had lost everything. Bet after bet, he'd lost the cars, the antiques, the house. Virginia had watched him with a mixture of helplessness and rage. She'd threatened, screamed, begged, but always in vain. There was no way to stop it. There was no way to stop the game. And he had nothing left. Nothing but her. And Virginia couldn't ignore those men; the threat they represented. The threat they had made so succinctly clear. No matter how much she disapproved of her father's actions, no matter how many times she had promised herself never to speak to him about it again while he continued to play games. He was her father, after all. Her only family. For a time, he had been a businessman. Respected and even admired. Now, it saddened him to think of what he had become. Virginia didn't know how much she owed. She preferred not to know. She only knew that she had reached an agreement with those three men that morning. She had one month to come up with one hundred thousand dollars, and during that time they would leave her father alone. Not even in her wildest dreams would Virginia have believed herself capable of raising such a sum of money, much less in
so little time. But although she couldn't, Marcos Allende could. The hair on her neck stood up at the thought. Her boss was a quiet, devastatingly handsome man. Some said he had a gift; his touch was like King Midas. Although Virginia had only been his secretary for a year-one of three, since it seemed one couldn't handle the task of having him as a boss-she had gotten to know him well enough during that time to agree with his reputation. He was a man out of context. He was daring, ruthless, and proud. He had single-handedly found, bought, and turned around troubled companies, creating an empire. He inspired respect and admiration among his friends and fear among his enemies. Judging by the overwhelming number of calls he received from Chicago's female population, Virginia knew they adored him. And in her, the man inspired things she preferred not to analyze.
The pearls felt soft under her fingers, genuine and ancient, the only thing Virginia had managed to save from her mother's belongings. His father had lost everything. Bet after bet, he'd lost the cars, the antiques, the house. Virginia had watched him with a mixture of helplessness and rage. She'd threatened, screamed, begged, but always in vain. There was no way to stop it. There was no way to stop the game. And he had nothing left. Nothing but her. And Virginia couldn't ignore those men; the threat they represented. The threat they had made so succinctly clear. No matter how much she disapproved of her father's actions, no matter how many times she had promised herself never to speak to him about it again while he continued to play games. He was her father, after all. Her only family. For a time, he had been a businessman. Respected and even admired. Now, it saddened him to think of what he had become. Virginia didn't know how much she owed. She preferred not to know. She only knew that she had reached an agreement with those three men that morning. She had one month to come up with one hundred thousand dollars, and during that time they would leave her father alone. Not even in her wildest dreams would Virginia have believed herself capable of raising such a sum of money, much less in
so little time. But although she couldn't, Marcos Allende could. The hair on her neck stood up at the thought. Her boss was a quiet, devastatingly handsome man. Some said he had a gift; his touch was like King Midas. Although Virginia had only been his secretary for a year-one of three, since it seemed one couldn't handle the task of having him as a boss-she had gotten to know him well enough during that time to agree with his reputation. He was a man out of context. He was daring, ruthless, and proud. He had single-handedly found, bought, and turned around troubled companies, creating an empire. He inspired respect and admiration among his friends and fear among his enemies. Judging by the overwhelming number of calls he received from Chicago's female population, Virginia knew they adored him. And in her, the man inspired things she preferred not to analyze.
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