The Hunt Masquerade - Milly Taiden Page 0,2

She was designing a dress for Gwen Marsdale. The heiress was famous for her excellent taste and fashion-forward savviness. The gown would be photographed and splashed over tabloids and social media. Her gown, her design would be worn at a New Year’s Eve Masquerade. Already, Chantal’s head was filling with all kinds of ideas.

She barely had one month to get the dress done, but she would knock it out of the park.

That was what she was put on this earth to do.

Nothing could possibly go wrong. She’d make sure of it.

Chapter Two

Rush

Rush had never, not once in his life, used the Winslow last name. His grandfather had changed the prestigious family name from Winslow to Jensen as a young man to distance himself from the lecherous family history.

It was one thing to lose the family fortune.

It was another to lose it to a branch of the family that never should have existed in the first place.

Not that Rush believed that for one second. He just had the unfortunate task of being the head of the family, as the eldest male. It was a harrowing task, much like herding a pack of cats.

Or wolves, as the case may be.

Rush ran a hand back through his hair, letting his fingers dig into the skin of his scalp. He scratched hard in hopes the friction would spark some kind of life-saving idea. The family business was failing in a very big way. They were hemorrhaging more money than they could ever hope to make.

And to top it all off, Marlon had gone to a loan shark.

Now there was a substantial debt to contend with. One that came with an insane interest rate.

“Explain to me again why you went to Spike Hastings.”

Marlon waved him off like it was not a big deal. Of course, Marlon hadn’t thought things through. More than that, he seriously believed that Rush would fix it for him, just like he always did.

“Well, at the last board meeting, you said we needed capital to stay afloat. I got the money.” Marlon shrugged like his idea had been the best thing since sliced bread.

It was not, obviously.

Unless the goal was to end up in thin wolf slices…

“You got money from a loan shark,” Rush growled. “And you leveraged our failing family business. Not to mention the house. The two very last things we have of our Winslow heritage. Anything else I should know about?”

“Spike gave us the hundred grand, no questions asked.”

“No, Marlon. Not, no questions asked. He has every right to claim the business and the house if we don’t pay him double what you borrowed. We need to give that money back. Right now. Maybe if I explain to him that you’re a loose cannon who doesn’t speak for the family, he will let us walk away from your very shitty deal.”

Marlon shook his head. “Oh, no. That won’t work. I’ve tried that already. He said if we don’t have the money by February first, he will kill us both. Though, I have to say I’m pretty curious about the imaginative way he said he would do the deed. He —”

“Nope,” Rush snapped. “I do not want to know. I need to fix this. Maybe if I sell the hotel in Hallow Lake, I’d get us enough money to keep Spike off our tail. The layoffs will hurt, but at least we could make it to the new year.”

“If you do that, aren’t you just admitting that our business is floundering?”

“We are floundering. And your latest scheme didn’t help.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“Well, I’m officially asking you not to help ever again. What did you even do with the money?”

“I paid off some debt,” Marlon waved his hand dismissively again. “Bought a few essentials and covered the payroll for the hotel up in the city. I figured if that one kept running, it would help us the most. It is our most lucrative location, after all.”

It was their only lucrative location.

The more Winslow Hotels expanded, the less space there was for their own in the business. Jensen Hotels just couldn’t compete. Their buildings weren’t as glamorous or as nice. Their amenities were also lacking. They didn’t run a luxury line of hotels, but more of a family-friendly line: something that was affordable, and just a touch above being rentable by the hour.

“I hate to say it,” Marlon poured himself a huge glass of whiskey. Way too much for a two o’clock meeting. “We need the Winslow money.”

Rush nearly