Free The Birthday Party by Veronica Henry Page A

first day, giving her a measly two pounds lunch money.
    To her surprise, she had thrived. She’d had to be tough to prove that she wasn’t a snotty, spoilt rich kid. It had taken her
     six months to be accepted by the other pupils, but she did it eventually. And she was surprised to find they were fun. Far
     more self-sufficient than her other pampered friends. They could all look after themselves, looked out for each other. She
     learned to stand on her own two feet and became pretty streetwise. She learned how to get into a club without paying, how
     to tell good drugs from bad, and how to nick stuff from Selfridges without being caught. She lost her virginity to a drop-dead-gorgeous
     boy with waist-length dreadlocks and a cock the size of which she had never encountered since. It hadbeen a more useful education than anything her father could have paid for. And it had made her tough. Tough enough to cope
     with most of his mind games. But not all …
    Her father might be the one person who could reduce her to tears, but Justine composed herself in the lift and by the time
     she reached the street outside she was filled with resolve. She had to make a plan. Work out how the hell she was going to
     outmanoeuvre that lovable bastard. It wasn’t going to be easy. But as he had pointed out to her on numerous occasions, nothing
     worth it ever is.
    He’d been compared to a lot of entrepreneurs: Richard Branson, Alan Sugar, Rocco Forte. But Benedict Amador was one on his
     own. He was a renaissance man. Whatever he decided to turn his hand to was a success. He was sickeningly accomplished. He
     studied engineering at university, devised a barrier-breaking computer program, sold out for millions and spent the rest of
     his days and his money dabbling in projects for pleasure. Each of his hotels was there for his own personal use – he never
     built one in a place he had no intention of visiting. He had a vineyard in Australia which made wine to his specification.
     He spent a month every summer on a Greek island painting pictures that were sold through a gallery in Cork Street. He was
     an awesome golfer, horseman, sailor – he had sailed the Atlantic twice … The list of his achievements was endless.
    They were all generated by his restlessness. He never truly relaxed. Not since his wife, Justine’s mother, had died when Justine
     was three. He had never replaced her. No other woman held any interest for him. Jeanne Fox had been his soul-mate, the love
     of his life. He had adored her unreservedly. Now, he had women who would accompany him to social functions. And women with
     whom he had sex. They weren’t paid professionals, but people he had met who knew the deal and were happy to accept it. No
     one had penetrated his heart. He had loved once, passionately, and that was it.
    Justine knew that no matter what she did, he would nevercut her off, for she was the living embodiment of her mother. A living, breathing three-dimensional replica that he didn’t
     want to lose. Everyone who knew Benedict knew that Justine was his Achilles heel, even though he gave her a hard time. And
     what he wanted more than anything was grandchildren. A grandson, to be precise. Someone he could leave his empire to. For
     all his maverick ways, a little bit of Benedict clung to tradition.
    Although she had inherited her mother’s looks – thick, dark eyebrows over wide, frank eyes and a full mouth – Justine had
     her father’s spirit. She was a little fire-brand. Bossy, opinionated, but fun-loving, she breezed through life like a zephyr.
     Of course, she could have turned her back on her father when he didn’t give in to her, and made her own way in the world.
     But it was his world she wanted to be part of. She just wasn’t sure what she had to do to prove herself to him.
    She walked along the pavement with her head down until she reached a little café with tables and chairs outside. She sat down
     and ordered a latte and a huge