In hugs of dream

CHAPTER 1

Tall, dark-hair man was standing at the window and watching from the height of a skyscraper at the lying behind his feet huge metropolis, glittering with multicolored lights and neon sign-boards. High buildings, rising up to the sky, were reflecting blinks to the waters of Hudson and illuminated Riverside Park. Traffic jams, like long snakes, were spreading along the evening city and unstoppably appearing pedestrians were in a hurry to do their business. This everlasting, buzzing, looking like an anthill city absolutely dazzled, but for the standing person this scene was ordinary and even a bit boring. He was living in New-York for too long and started his way by no means in the Manhattan penthouse, but in Bronx, the poorest and most densely-populated part of Big Apple. A poor student, thanks to his brilliant mind and ingenuity could get the scholarship and after graduating from college, he wisely used his education, astonishing appearance and cute mind. During last ten years he had established contacts with top-level officials and set up his own business, contriving to make tons of money. By his thirty-one he owned a real business empire. His factories were all over the United Stated and now he was making the first, rather successful steps for conquering Europe. It was such a long and not a simple way from the very bottom right up to the top floor of the skyscraper Dimond-Westwood Building. But to his greater frustration he didn't fell anything but boredom. His beautiful, cold face being reflected in the window expressed absolutely nothing. Dark-blue eyes were observing this festival of life with a slight alloy of disdain. Behind him a door banged and a male voice asked:

- Alex, are we going or you are planning to cool heels here alone, while everybody is celebrating?

Alexandre Dimond lifted a glass of whisky to his mouth, made a sip and turned to his friend and business partner, squinting a bit his unbelievably sapphire eyes, just indecently beautiful for a male and at the same time cold like the waters of the Arctic Ocean. An accurately delineated line of the lips, a straight nose and a manly chin put him into the list of the Most Beautiful People of America and consequently the advantageous grooms. The last thing dejected him the most. He screwed up remembering the final edition of "Stylish America" that called him the main prize for any female. Rich, successful, popular. As if it was not enough that women except for put up tent near his house. With such gorgeous appearance he could have become a famous model or even a movie star, but all his ambitions were in another direction. Business. Contracts with Reinford Building Enterprises gave him an opportunity of entry to the European markets and new projects that would surely increase his in any case huge wealth and make him something like an icon in a Business world. The lessons of what he had absorbed quite well during last ten years of fight for the place in the league the best of the best. Confident, ruthless, not taking the middle path, believing nothing and nobody except his own intuition and business sense. His opponents got the news who they would be going to face with, clutched their heads in despair and ordered tickets to the most remote areas of Mexico being ready to live on the beach, catch fish and weave baskets. Anything only to avoid getting face to face with him, as he was called in press "Man of Steel". He had been coming to it so long and he finally reached everything he could only dream about, then why he didn't feel any satisfaction. He was the golden standard of the great American dream...so where was, the hell, this true blue blood disease...boredom from.

He looked closely at the person who had been with him from the very beginning and had been standing next to him at the machine tool on the steel factory. Maximillian Westwood was a tall, well-set up man, wearing expensive tuxedo, hadn't actually changed over those ten years. The same dark night eyes, the same black hair waving a bit on the ends, the same fabular sense of humor, the same insinuating genteel charisma and insolent irresistible smile, like his mother's one – the real Italian. Despite Alex, Max was the son of wealthy parents, who ruined all their expectations. The star of the high society from the early childhood. Instead of entering the college of law and continuing the family tradition of lawyers, he quit school and tried everything that the life of a golden boy could suggest him. Parties, girls, drinks and drugs was just a dream for any fast liver who he actually was. Only after drunk car accident, in which three people were hurt and the only guilty man was him, he understood he had been going the wrong way. Taking all the blame upon for that, he got off with a big fine, that was paid by his father, and correctional labor at the factory where he met Alex. Much to his father's displeasure, after college he didn't go to work for his company, but he stayed with Alex and together step by step they built up a business empire. His attractiveness and amiability were just a façade that hid the acute mind, ingenuity and firmness. Contrary to Alex, he preferred to clip claws his enemies with the boundless charm firstly, and only then showed his teeth.