Which was why, she could only assume, after his death she’d found out that he’d passed the operations of the distillery to his second-in-command and left her in charge of the expansion to Europe. She’d been hurt by the slight, affronted that her father did not trust her with the business that her mother’s family had built, until she realized that staying in Santo Domingo was much too painful. That she desperately needed a fresh start. And so, before her departure she’d transferred the majority of her holdings in Caña Brava to the people who, like her family, had nurtured it from the beginning.

She’d left with the promise to find them new prospects, new markets, new buyers… Building partnerships was where she’d always excelled. She hoped her skills would be as effective in Paris as they’d been in the tropics. Like her mother before her, Luz left with the intention to blaze a few trails.

“Did you hear that, Luz?” Clarita’s voice, which every day sounded less like a little girl’s and more like a young lady’s, brought Luz Alana out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, amor. What did I miss?”

“Manu has made us appointments at the House of Worth!” Luz had to bite her lip at the reverence in Clarita’s voice. The child also loved dresses…as long as they were dark as night.

“You have more tiny black dresses than I know what to do with, Clarita,” Luz admonished. She’d been complacent in indulging her sister’s penchant for gloomy clothing for months after their mourning period had ended, but she would put her foot down at acquiring more of them. “No more new dresses until you’ve had a chance to wear the ones Manu bought you in New York,” Luz said, to which Clarita responded by making a very unladylike noise. Luz turned her attention to Manuela, who was still focused on her sketch.

“More gowns, Manu?” Luz asked and received a shrug in answer. Luz’s friend had wheedled permission to come to Paris with the excuse of securing a proper trousseau for her upcoming nuptials. Her betrothed and her parents, who had been waiting for almost three years for Manu to set a date, had agreed enthusiastically. So far it seemed Manuela intended to spend the man’s money until he regretted ever setting his sights on her. They’d already spent a fortune in New York. It didn’t matter: Manuela treated money like air. Something she consumed without any thought, always expecting there would be more when she needed it.