The Billionaire's Christmas Cinderella. Carol Marinelli

       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