The Billionaire's Christmas Cinderella
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Carol Marinelli
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Prologue
‘I KNOW THAT this is a very difficult time for the Devereux family. However—’
‘That may be the case but it has no bearing on this discussion.’
Abe Devereux interrupted the Sheikh when few people would. It was an online meeting, with Abe in his stunning high-rise New York City office and Sheikh Prince Khalid in Al-Kazan, but Abe would have responded in the same terse manner had they met face to face.
The Devereux family was extending its empire into the Middle East. The first hotel was under construction in Dubai and the site for the next had recently been sourced in Al-Kazan.
Except the landowners, Khalid had just informed Abe, had added several million to their previous asking price. To refuse jeopardised not only the Al-Kazan project—the knock-on effect would be huge. If the Devereuxes didn’t agree to the new asking price, then construction in Dubai might cease.
Abe refused to be bullied.
Khalid was very possibly relying on the fact that he was a personal friend of Abe’s younger brother, Ethan. Or perhaps he had hoped for a rare moment of weakness or distraction, given that Jobe Devereux, the head of the Devereux empire, was gravely ill.
But there would be no weakness or distraction from Abe.
Khalid would soon come to understand that he was dealing with the most ruthless of the Devereuxes.
Abe would never be swayed by emotion.
This was business, and nothing ever got in the way of that.
‘Whose side are you on, Khalid?’ Abe asked the question few would dare. ‘We are supposed to be in this venture together.’
‘I am on the side of progress,’ Khalid answered smoothly. ‘And for the sake of a relatively small sum we risk thwarting the inroads that have been made.’
‘If Al-Kazan is not ready for such progress then we shall look for another site.’
‘Have you discussed this with Ethan?’ Khalid checked.
Ethan was supposed to be here but he hadn’t made it in, which was perhaps just as well, given that he was friends with the Sheikh.
Abe wasn’t particularly friendly with anyone but, even had he been, it wouldn’t have swayed him.
‘Ethan and I are both in full agreement,’ Abe lied smoothly, for he had not had a chance to speak with his brother. ‘The price remains as originally decided or we look elsewhere.’
‘If we could perhaps discuss it with Ethan present?’ Supremely polite, still Khalid pushed his agenda. ‘He was here recently and understands the sensitivities.’
‘There’s nothing more to discuss.’
‘But if we can’t come to a satisfactory resolution, even a temporary one, construction in Dubai may well cease.’
‘In that case...’ Abe shrugged ‘...no one gets paid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really do have to go.’
‘Of course.’ Khalid nodded graciously, though it was clear he was displeased. ‘Would you pass on my best wishes to your father?’
It was only when Abe was satisfied that they had been disconnected and Khalid’s face had disappeared from the screen that he let out a curse that indicated the gravity of the situation. If the Dubai construction ceased, for even a few days, the knock-on effect would be dire.
Abe was quite sure that Khalid was relying on that fact.
For a couple of million, Abe could resolve this. It was small change in the scheme of things and he was certain that Ethan would be willing to pay up rather than jeopardise the project at this tender stage.
But Abe refused to be bullied.
And threats, however silkily delivered, would not change his stance.
Abe got up from his desk and, from his impressive vantage point, looked out over a cold and snowy Manhattan and beyond. It was a stunning view towards the East River and he drank it in for a moment, barely turning his head when his brother’s PA knocked and explained the reason for his absence from this morning’s meeting.
‘Ethan’s been at the hospital with Merida since last night. Apparently, she’s in labour.’
‘Thank you.’
Abe didn’t ask for details.
He already knew more than enough.
Ethan had married Merida a few months ago, though only because she was pregnant. Abe had, along with his father, signed off on the contract that would ensure that the new Mrs Devereux and her infant would be well provided for when they eventually divorced.
But as clinical as a contract sounded, it had its merits—Abe hoped to God it ensured that the baby would be treated better than he and Ethan had been.
He could not think of that now.
Abe closed his eyes on the glorious December view.
It wasn’t even nine a.m. and it was already proving to be a long day.
He had Sheikh Khalid testing his limits and the Middle East contract on the brink of collapse.
As well as that, in the hospital a few streets away from this very building he had his brother’s wife giving birth in one wing...
And his father dying in the other.
No.
He corrected himself—his father was fighting for his life in the other.
His mother, Elizabeth Devereux, had died when Abe was nine. She hadn’t been in the least bit maternal and Jobe had been far from a hands-on father. In fact, a fleet of nannies had raised the Devereux boys—but Abe greatly admired his father and was not ready to let him go.
Not that he showed it, of course.
For a second so brief it was barely there Abe considered discussing the Middle East issue with him. Jobe Devereux was the founder and the cleverest man Abe knew. Yet Abe quickly decided he could not stress his father while he was fighting just to survive.
Only that wasn’t the real reason that Abe didn’t head to the hospital now—Jobe had never shied from giving his view after all.
It was more that Abe had never asked for help in his life.
And he wasn’t about to start now.
But before he could tackle the work waiting, his private phone rang and Abe saw that it was his brother.
‘A little girl,’ Ethan said, sounding both tired and elated at the same time.
‘Congratulations.’
‘Merida was amazing!’
Abe made no comment to that. The fact that Merida had just had a baby did not suddenly make him a fan of hers. ‘Have you told Dad?’
‘I’m heading over to tell him now,’ Ethan said.
Usually they called their father Jobe, as it helped with the business side of things, but this, Abe was fast realising, wasn’t business.
Oh, there might be a watertight contract in place and the marriage might all be a charade, but a little girl had been born this morning. And that moved him. He thought of his father, about to hear the news that he was a grandfather.
‘Will you be coming in to meet your niece?’ Ethan asked.
‘Of course.’ Abe glanced at the time. ‘Though not until later in the afternoon.’
‘Merida’s friend, Naomi, is getting in at midday. We were supposed to be there to meet her.’
‘Do you want me to organise a driver to pick her up?’
There was a brief stretch of silence before Ethan responded. Neither of the brothers liked asking for help, even from the other. ‘Abe, is there any chance of you going? She’s Merida’s best friend.’
‘I thought she was the nanny?’ Abe frowned. He only knew that because a full-time live-in nanny had been a part of the terms agreed to.
‘Naomi’s both.’
‘Give me her details,’ Abe sighed, and pulled out a pen.
‘Naomi Hamilton.’ Ethan gave her flight details. ‘If she can come to the hospital before being taken to the house, that would be good.’
‘All sorted,’ Abe said, and glanced again at the time. ‘I really do have to go. Congratulations.’
‘Thanks.’
Luckily Ethan was too muddled to ask how this morning’s meeting with Khalid had gone and certainly Abe did not volunteer the information.
Cool heads were needed for dealing with this situation and currently the only Devereux who had one was Abe.
He buzzed through to his own PA. ‘Jessica, could you organise a gift for me to take to the hospital this afternoon?’
‘For your father?’ she checked.
‘No, the baby’s here.’
There was a little squeal that had Abe pulling the phone back from his ear; then came the inevitable questions. ‘What did Merida have?’
‘A girl.’
‘Does she have a name yet? Do you know how much she weighs?’
‘I don’t know any more than that,’ Abe responded. He really hadn’t thought to ask. ‘I also need you to sort out a driver to do an airport run from JFK to the hospital.’ He gave the flight details. ‘She gets in at midday. The name’s Naomi Hamilton.’
Despite his brother’s request, Abe would not be playing chauffeur.
As well as Khalid to contend with, he had the first-of-the-month board meeting to attend. Before that he was meeting with Maurice, the head of PR, to discuss the annual Devereux Christmas Eve Charity Ball.
It was a highlight on the social calendar, but, for the first time since its inception, Jobe Devereux would not be attending.
Tabled on this morning’s agenda was discussion of contingency plans should Jobe die close to, or on, that date.
Not pleasant.
But a necessary task, given that people travelled from far and wide and paid an awful lot of money to attend.
Emotion had to be put aside and unpalatable scenarios played out and usually Abe was very good at that.
Abe wasn’t just cool...he was considered cold.
And not just in the boardroom. His reputation with women was devastating, though that had calmed in recent years. But his aloofness extended also to family.
He had stopped trusting others by the age of four, looking out for his brother and doing his best to ensure that he came to no harm.
Abe kept his emotions in check.
Yet, unusually, this morning he was struggling to do that.
His schedule was always daunting but he thrived on the pressure and handled it with ease. Yet the autopilot he usually ran on felt, this morning, as if it had disengaged.
The news of the baby had punched a hole in the wall he carefully erected between himself and others.
He put a finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose and squeezed hard, then took a long cleansing breath. Pushing all the drama out of his mind, he’d get on with holding down the Devereux fort.
Someone had to.
