of all.
What was Daisy even doing here, with all these chic, glamorous people, people she should properly only read about in magazines or social media, or see on the big screen?
“How—” she began, then her throat dried up.
Across the ballroom, she saw someone else she recognized. Someone she’d glared at every day for a month. Someone she’d never, ever forget. A gray-haired villain in a suit.
Edgar Ross.
The lawyer who’d called the police on her father. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been sitting behind the prosecutor in the courtroom. A ruthless lawyer who worked for an even more ruthless boss, some foreign-born billionaire.
“Daisy?” Leo looked down at her, his handsome face concerned. “What is it?”
“It’s... It’s... What is he—”
At that moment, Edgar Ross himself came over to them, with a pretty middle-aged blonde on his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Niarxos.”
Daisy’s lips parted as Leo greeted the man with a warm handshake. “Good evening.” He gave the blonde a polite peck on the cheek. “Mrs. Ross.”
“It’s a great party. Thanks for inviting us.” Edgar Ross smiled vaguely at Daisy, as if he were trying to place her.
She stared back coldly, shaking with the effort it took not to slap him, wishing she’d taken a glass of champagne after all, so she could throw it in his face. Including the glass.
“Admiring your most recent acquisition?” Ross asked Leo. For a moment, Daisy thought he meant her. Then she realized he was referring to the painting on the wall.
He shrugged. “It’s an investment.”
“Of course,” Ross said, smiling. “It will just have to hold you, until we can find that Picasso, eh?”
The Picasso.
It all clicked horrifyingly into place. Daisy suddenly couldn’t breathe.
Edgar Ross.
The Picasso.
The wealthy billionaire reported to be behind it all. The Greek billionaire.
Leonidas Niarxos.
In the background, the orchestra continued to play, and throughout the ballroom, people continued to talk and laugh. As if the world hadn’t just collapsed.
Daisy slowly turned with wide, stricken eyes.
“Leo,” she choked out, feeling like she was about to faint. Feeling like she was about to die.
He looked down at her, then his expression changed. “No,” he said in a low voice. “Daisy, wait.”
But she was already backing away. Her knees were shaking. The high heel of her shoe twisted, and she barely caught herself from falling.
No. The truth was she hadn’t caught herself. She’d fallen in love with Leo, her first and only lover. He’d taken her virginity. He was the father of her unborn baby.
But Leo didn’t exist.
He was actually Leonidas Niarxos. Edgar Ross’s boss. The Greek billionaire behind everything. The real reason the prosecutor and the judge had thrown the book at her father, penalizing him to the fullest extent of the law, when he should have just been fined in civil court—or better yet, found innocent. But no. With his money and power, Leonidas Niarxos had been determined to get his pound of flesh. The spoiled billionaire, who already owned million-dollar paintings and palaces, hadn’t gotten the toy he wanted, so he’d destroyed her father’s life.
A year ago, when her father had been convicted of forgery, Daisy had been heartbroken, because she’d known he was innocent. Her father was a good man. The best. He never would have broken the law. She’d been shocked and sickened that somehow, in a miscarriage of justice, he’d still been found guilty. Then, six months ago, Patrick had died of a stroke, alone and scared, in a prison surrounded by strangers.
Daisy had vowed that if she ever had the chance, she would take her revenge. She, who’d never wanted to hurt anyone, who always tried to see the best in everyone, wanted vengeance.
But she’d naively given Leo everything. Her smiles. Her kisses. Her body. Her love. She was even carrying his baby, deep inside her.
Daisy stared up at Leo’s heartbreakingly handsome face. The face she’d loved. So much.
No. He wasn’t Leo. She could never think of him as Leo again.
He was Leonidas Niarxos. The man who’d killed her father.
“Oh, my God.” Edgar Ross stared at Daisy, his eyes wide. “You’re Cassidy’s daughter. I didn’t recognize you in that dress. What are you doing here?”
Yes, what? The ballroom, with its gilded glitter, started to swim in front of her eyes.
Daisy’s breaths came in short wheezing gasps, constricted as her chest was by the too-tight cocktail dress. With every breath, her breasts pushed higher against the low neckline. She felt like she was going to pass out.
She had to get out of there.
But as she turned away, Leonidas grabbed