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To her photography was magic. But the Osorios were clearly intensely private people who simply wanted a record of a particular moment.
She needed to see beyond the staged poses. She needed to do a little supplementary research of her own. But as she typed in the Osorio name she felt heat spread over her cheeks as the screen filled not only with photos of Agusto and Sofia, but Luis too.
She stared at them greedily.
There were a couple of him as dark-eyed teenager, watching the polo at Sotogrande with his parents and brother. Another as a student in America, rowing at Harvard. And then, leaping forward several years, there were several more of the adult Luis. Publicity shots of him in his role as CEO of the quantitative hedge fund he’d founded.
Clearly turning his back on one fortune had been no obstacle to amassing another. His business was less than three years old but it had already made him a billionaire.
The thought of Luis behind a desk, with some glossy PA hovering over his shoulder, made her feel as if she was pressing on a bruise. But now that she knew the truth about him his career choice made perfect sense.
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