Chapter 1
Julianne Palmer stood in the middle of the main, largest dining room at Palmer Beach, desperately trying to stay grounded. In front of her, the head chef, Hector, was gesturing animatedly as he excitedly talked about the new shipment of fresh seafood and the weekend menu. Julianne nodded mechanically, her lips forming a professional smile, but in reality she wasn’t hearing a single word. In her head, like an intrusive, painful buzz, memories of her last Sunday visit to her family home kept replaying.
All it took was a moment of inattention—the instant she stepped back to retrieve her purse, which she’d left in the entryway—to become a silent witness to her brothers’ conversation. The words of Parker, the older of the two, still rang in her ears like a verdict. Without a shred of empathy, his voice cold and calculating, he spoke of taking over her restaurant. Steven, her younger brother, supported the plan without hesitation, echoing him with a mocking smirk. Although it was their father who, just before his death, had made a conscious decision to hand over the entire business to his beloved daughter, the brothers had treated this bequest as a grim joke from the very beginning. In their eyes, Julianne was just a younger, inexperienced little sister who had bitten off more than she could chew. They were firmly convinced that managing such a massive enterprise would be beyond her capabilities, and that the restaurant would go spectacularly bankrupt after a few months. They waited for this to happen with sadistic satisfaction, ready to rub every misstep in her face indefinitely. None of them, however, foresaw that under Julie’s firm hand, the business would take off so quickly, becoming one of the most sought-after spots on the coast’s culinary map.
Julianne took a deep breath, and the scent of fresh basil, roasted coffee, and the sea breeze brought her back to the present for a moment. She looked around the room. Palmer Beach was her sanctuary - an intimate yet incredibly prestigious place. Tall candles flickered on tables made of dark, exotic wood, casting warm, dancing shadows on the rich, colorful bouquets of fresh flowers. This cheerful yet intimate lighting gave the interior a slightly melancholic, luxurious atmosphere. In the side booths, designed to guarantee guests complete privacy, stood sofas upholstered in soft, white cotton featuring bold, tropical patterns. Right next to it stretched a spacious, partially covered veranda. There, on comfortable, deep sofas, guests could relax to the sound of the ocean. The whole setting created an almost magnetic atmosphere, but what ultimately sealed the restaurant’s success was its impeccable service. The waitresses, dressed in elegant, colorful outfits inspired by the seaside style, flitted among the tables like colorful butterflies, maneuvering with incredible grace as they carried heavy trays filled with elaborate drinks and steaming, artfully presented dishes.
Julie felt her throat tighten with emotion and fear. With love and deep affection, she watched this vibrant spectacle unfold. How is it possible, she thought bitterly, that this wonderful place, created out of passion, had suddenly become the beginning of a nightmare from which she couldn’t wake up?
The real drama began a few months ago, striking her like a bolt from the blue. Her longtime, trusted accountant vanished overnight, and with him, two million dollars from the company’s account. It was only after the fact, as she leafed through the hidden bank statements with trembling hands, that Julianne discovered the terrifying truth. For quite some time, this man had been brazenly embezzling funds right under her nose, feeding her falsified reports of supposed profits. He had taken advantage of her boundless trust and lack of vigilance. Now her financial situation was becoming more and more dire with each new dawn. Debts to suppliers and creditors were growing at an alarming rate. And although Palmer Beach was packed to the brim every evening - with tables needing to be reserved a week in advance - current revenues were merely a drop in the bucket compared to her needs. They were unable to cover the massive budget shortfall left behind by the fraudster.
The worst part, however, was the realization that if Parker and Steven found out about these troubles, they would use it as the perfect excuse to take her property away through the courts. She knew what they would do. Palmer Beach, the life’s work of her and her father, would be razed to the ground, and in its place would rise a soulless, luxury development of concrete apartment buildings overlooking the ocean.
- I’ll never let that happen. - she thought, tightening her grip on the notebook she was carrying. This restaurant was her identity, her heart, and her whole life. She promised herself silently that even if fate were to ultimately bring her to her knees, she would not give up without a bloody fight. She would move heaven, earth, and hell to get that money and save her home, she thought, clenching her fingers tighter around the notebook she was carrying. This restaurant was her identity, her heart, and her whole life. She promised herself silently that even if fate were to ultimately bring her to her knees, she would not give up without a bloody fight. She would move heaven, earth, and hell to get that money and save her home.
Hector was just raising his hands, gesturing passionately as he presented another suggestion for the new weekend menu, when Julianne’s gaze involuntarily drifted toward the glass-enclosed lobby. Her body instantly tensed in an instinctive defensive reaction. Standing in the entrance was a tall, impeccably dressed, dark-haired man. It took only a fraction of a second—a single glance at that confident figure and perfectly tailored suit—for Julie to recognize Eric Radley. He was the owner of Kyriakoss—a small, outrageously exclusive, and undeniably the most popular Italian restaurant on the entire coast. Her most formidable, ruthless competitor.
A young waiter, clearly intimidated by the aura of power and wealth surrounding the newcomer, seated him at one of the best tables. Eric took a seat on a deep, comfortable sofa right next to a panoramic window offering a breathtaking view of the sandy beach and the foaming ocean waves. After a brief exchange, the waiter left, leaving him alone.
Then Radley began to slowly scan the room. He lifted his chin slightly, and his scrutinizing, almost predatory gaze swept across the interior of Palmer Beach, as if he were assessing the value of every piece of furniture and every square centimeter. Finally, like radar, his eyes settled precisely on her. Julianne froze. She realized that from the very beginning, it wasn’t the restaurant but she who had been the purpose of his visit. Suddenly, she felt the air in the room grow thick, and a tight knot form in her stomach. Although a considerable distance separated them, and the buzz of conversation and the clatter of cutlery filled the air, that single intense glance left her breathless. When Eric realized she’d caught him, he didn’t look away. On the contrary. He nodded slowly in a minimalist, almost imperious greeting, and the corner of his mouth curled into a slightly mocking, incredibly handsome smile. Julie felt as if she were literally pinned to the ground, as though his gaze had physical weight. Fighting a sudden rush of heat, she forced herself—with the greatest of difficulty—to offer a cool, professional smile, then immediately broke that scorching eye contact.
A moment later, taking advantage of the moment when the waiter served the guest his meal and distracted him, Julianne made her escape. She turned on her heel and practically ran out of the dining room, disappearing through a discreet door that led to a private area of the building.
