Prologue
Mal boarded the airplane silently. He had changed his name over half a dozen years ago to James Malcolm, but everyone still called him Mal. It was different enough to keep Father away from him. Father was always pressuring him to work at the bank, because he was the heir to the financial empire. Like he'd ever given a damn. He'd never cared for him or his younger brother Joel. Corrine had been adored by Father. He had never called his Father anything but Father. Always Father had been sorry when he'd punished Corrine, he was never sorry when he punished him or Joel. He had had to protect Joel from Father, for Joel would sometimes cry, and Father had seen
tears as a weakness.
His wife Adrianne, had divorced him, and it was with a heavy heart that he let her go. She had taken with her his son and his daughter and he had kissed her good-bye for the last time, she had given that for the children. His twins, heirs to the Foxworth empire, though he had never told his children or his beloved Adrianne. He remembered the day he met Adrianne, it was her eyes that had caught his eye first. Such vastly different eyes that he had never seen before. They were an odd shade of violet, and yet sometimes they appeared even lighter than his own cerulean blue eyes. He had given his heart to her, and she was the first person other than his baby sister that he had loved without reservation. She had hair fairer than any he had ever seen. Hair that was such a silvery blonde, that he hastened to call it white. But she was far from old, she looked so old, and so young at the same time. She appeared a simple innocent standing their as she purchased apples. Slowly, he had lowered his gaze to stare at the fairness of her skin, so that he wondered how she stayed out in the sun without burning. He had taken in the rest of his perfect angel, and it had outdone his imagination. He had bought her a bonnet, though he would have never believed the color was possible, it was the exact same shade as her violet eyes.
He had introduced himself as Mal and she had told him who she was, looking down her pert little nose at him, as if he couldn't possibly be good enough for her. He had laughed, he Malcolm Foxworth's son, heir to the Foxworth fortune, not good enough. He had made a vow then never to tell her. She had accepted his gift, only so as not to be burned she had told him. It had been months that he had pursued her and finally, she had relented and married him. She had not been the innocent he had suspected, but so was his passion for her that he no longer cared. He didn't ask, didn't question, why she finally said yes, or who came before him, it hadn't mattered. They had
toured the world on their honeymoon, and he had told her that he didn't get along well with his family and had halted her questions about them.
She had assumed he was an orphan, he found out later from overhearing her chatter to a friend. It was easier that way, she always suspected he was from simple origins, and he had encouraged that idea. Talking about his motorcycle and the cabin he and Joel had had to get away on the weekends from Father. They had done everything Father had forbidden them to do. They had smoked, drank
brandy underage, and even partaken in light drugs. And the girls they had had there, he still smothered moans thinking about it.
Within the first three years of marriage the twins had been born.They had had his flaxen blonde hair, and even sported a tan from all the time his children spent outdoors. They had Adrianne's blonde hair. Of course, Cal's name was Malcolm, but damned if he would
have a son with such an uptight ass name like that. Like his father. Olivia Foxworth and Malcolm Neal Foxworth III they had been named.
He had sent word from the States about that time to find out how his baby sister was, and what had become of his brother? He had found out and wished he hadn't. His brother had been involved in a skiing accident in Switzerland and so he had told his wife he had business in Switzerland and investigated. Everything pointed to his brother's death. He had come back very saddened and unable to unburden himself to his wife. Their marriage had been slipping apart, anyway, and nothing he could do could change the fact that his wife, whom he had loved above all, her affections were waning. And though he ruthlessly destroyed every man she pursued it wasn't enough. He wasn't enough. Mari would find him sitting sadly and staring into space, and it was with her that he had shared stories of his childhood that his wife had insisted to his daughter were fragments of his imagination. He had drifted even further apart, for she had never really known him. It had saddened him to realize he was falling out of love with her.
He had found out that his sister had married, and it had given him father a stroke, which he had figured was no less than he deserved. His sister had married their father's half-brother, Christopher Foxworth. How well he remembered him. They had run away, and he had
heard that Father had cursed their children. Mal hoped they had beautiful, talented, intelligent children that would show them.
He had spent his time either with his music that had become vastly popular in Europe, or with his own growing empire. It had been easy enough once he had had enough money from his music he had invested it. And his investments had paid off handsomely. He was easily the richest man in Europe. And he was known as James Malcolm, and who would ever suspect that James Malcolm, who had no family was heir to the Foxworth family. He had hired a detective, but he let Christopher and Corrine have their peace, telling them to keep tabs on his Father and Mother, he wanted to know when the old man kicked the bucket.
He had learned enough from his father about investments, and he put all his knowledge to good use. He spent most of his time with his children, vastly indifferent to his wives affairs, except for the bruise on his ego and pride that demanded ramifications. Mari became his greatest ally, and he worried if his home was becoming like Foxworth Hall again. Was he spoiling Olivia as Corrine had been spoiled?
He had next heard that Corrine had returned home, childless, husbandless. He was glad for her, but saddened that she didn't know the joys of being a parent. He had to return home before he got too old. He was returning to his childhood home, to the home of childhood memories both good and bad. To Foxwoth Hall, the home that had taken his grandfather's life. The home in which he had always to look over his shoulder waiting for his father's disapproval. A home in which he and Joel had hidden and watched Father with Corrine and wondered why he loved her, and what was wrong with them? They had watched her with strange yearnings in their chests. He shook those thoughts
away. He was a man now, a grown man, with a failed marriage, and wonderful children of his own. He rented a limozine to drive him to Foxworth Hall.