Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel

by Stacey Kennedy

  A solid plan feels good, since everything else feels a little shaky.

  I meet Darius at the doorway, and he offers his hand. “I know Allison is in good hands here, but keep an eye on her for me, all right?”

  My face heats and tingles, my throat grows thick, as I return his handshake. “Of course.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” Darius turns, giving Allie one last long look.

  Even from where I stand, I see the deep-rooted love he has for Allie. I’ve never seen Darius look like this before, not in any of the years I’ve known him. I follow his gaze, finding that Allie’s shoulders remain slumped. That’s when I know there’s something worse than sleeping with Darius’s half-sister. I suspect hurting her is unforgiveable in Darius’s eyes.

  And I have done both.

  Micah

  An hour later, I enter Allie’s office, finding her assistant scowling at me from behind her desk. I give Liv my grin that usually charms women right out of their panties. She folds her arms over her chest, her gaze flicking upward, clearly not won over. I can only take that to mean that Allie has told Liv about me and our night together.

  Seeing that I’m getting nowhere with Liv, I focus on Allie, sitting behind her desk. Even though she’s not looking at me, I can see that Liv’s scowl is nothing compared to what I find on Allie’s face. Her nostrils are flaring and her lips are flat, and her hands are trembling against the papers on her desk.

  This is the blessing that I need.

  I can see she’s already decided she wants nothing to do with me. For her this is over, meaning I can carefully cut ties with her and clean the matter up nice and neatly. Content to let this all unfold, I turn to Liv, ignoring the daggers her gaze is throwing at me. Professionally, I would fire an employee for this type of insubordination. Personally, I realize Liv and Allie are close friends, and I respect Liv’s protectiveness of Allie. “Would you mind giving us a minute?” I ask Liv.

  Her eyes turn cold, hard, and flinty while she stares me down, then she glances sideways at Allie.

  Allie doesn’t look up from reading the papers on her desk. “It’s fine. Please shut the door behind you.”

  Liv rises from her desk, silently flipping me off with her high chin as she leaves the office.

  The second the door shuts, Allie asks, voice tight, “What can I do for you?”

  I nearly breathe a sigh of relief at the detachment deepening her tone. I can deal with this particular coldness. I see it all the time on the faces of businessmen, and I’m well aware how to use it to my advantage to get what I want.

  Shoving my hands into my pockets, I move toward her desk, deciding it best not to take a seat, and remain standing. “Leaving this morning was a mistake,” I tell her, which is an absolute first for me. I never apologize for leaving a woman in the morning. Nor do I make excuses for my behavior. In fact, if Allie weren’t Darius’s half-sister, this conversation would go very differently. I would use my best negotiation tactics to ensure that Allie was okay with my leaving and accepted the way I like to do things.

  But Allie is no ordinary woman, she is Darius’s half-sister.

  I’m careful that when we part she walks away from me on good terms. I will have to tell Darius about being with Allie, but first I need her to believe she’s simply leaving me because we’re not right for each other.

  No hard feelings, that’s what I need here.

  The air is thick—tense—and she’s still not looking at me when I continue. “I see that I upset you and that wasn’t my intention.”

  She snorts, shaking her head softly. “Oh, I know it wasn’t.”

  My back stiffens, but it’s not because I’m hearing a snarky tone in her voice; it’s because it sounds forced. I narrow my focus on her intently, becoming aware of only her. My throat constricts, muscles strain at the dark circles under her eyes and how she’s suddenly stroking her eyebrow.

  “I regret having hurt you,” I offer.

  “I’m not hurt.”

  She’s still not looking at me, and my fists are now clenching in my pockets. I want to move to her and grasp her chin, commanding her to show me those soulful eyes that tell me so much. But she’s hiding them from me.

  “Everything is A-OK,” she finishes.

  I’m trying to keep to the plan of allowing her to walk away from me on her terms, but my head is spinning at the way she’s acting and her flat, monotone voice. I can’t remember all the reasons I need to stay away from her. All I want to do is bring her close and make her feel safe enough not to hide from me. “Allie, look at me.”

  “Listen, there’s nothing more to say here.” Her shoulders are curving as she rises from her seat. “I know this is normal for you. You know, letting the maid clean up after you and such. And I’m sure the girls you’re used to dating don’t mind that, but I happen to.” She pushes her chair under her desk, still avoiding me. “Don’t worry. I get it. That’s the type of guy you are, so that’s what you do.”

  She’s right. I am that guy.

  Only this time, with her, it feels wrong to be that guy.

  “Allie.” I’m not even sure what I want to say next.

  She goes to walk by me, staring straight ahead at the closed door. The ground is dropping out from under me. I’m shaking and not even thinking, only acting, as I reach for her, stopping her from leaving. “Dammit, Allie. Look at me.”

  Then her eyes meet mine, and I’m being hit in the center of my chest by a freight train. My breath is gone, my stomach is sinking, and I cannot let go of her.

  I don’t want to.

  In the same way her smile once blasted warmth across me, her sadness slams me with equally intense ice. Her eyes, those gorgeous eyes, are wet and dull. I caused that. Her chin is trembling. I did that. She’s hurting. All because of me. “Christ,” I bite off. “What can I say to make you feel better?”

  “You don’t need to say anything.” She yanks herself away from me, her chest hitching. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me. You have nothing to feel bad about. I was expecting you to be different, and that’s wrong of me. Honestly, this is all fine. But I can’t do this with you.” She moves to the door, whisking it open. “We gave it a shot, but clearly we’re two very different people.”

  The plan was to let her leave me. That plan makes sense for all involved. It is the smartest choice. It’s my way out. I plant my feet wide on the floor, as the room spins slightly, and before I can help it, I call, “Do you not remember what happened between us last night?”

  “No.” She glances over her shoulder, her desolate eyes meeting mine. A painful tightness grabs hold of my throat when she adds, “I only remember what happened this morning.”

  Chapter 10

  Allie

  Shortly before seven at night, I enter The Vault, exhausted to my bones. Micah still weighs heavy on my mind, but I’m too damn tired to even begin to figure it all out and I have something else to deal with now. I step farther into the restaurant, past the greeter. “It’s okay,” I tell her, as her lips part to welcome me. “I’m meeting someone who’s already here.”

  “Enjoy your dinner.” She smiles.

  “Thanks.” I run my fingers through my hair, damp from the rain, moving past the round tables draped with white linens. I don’t love the reminder that the last time I’d been here was with Micah. Like I need more reminders of him.

  Near the back of the restaurant, not far from the table where I’d met with the Lowes, I find Darius. His almond-shaped eyes meet mine, and for a split second they warm with his slight smile. It’s a tender, totally unguarded smile that he reserves for only two people: Taylor and me. Yet as he rises, I notice the tenseness of his movement.

  I can’t really blame Darius for having a hard exterior. I had what he didn’t—our mother. When mom left her first husband, taking Darius with her, her ex-husband hired a dream team of lawyers to charge her as an abusive mother. They said she’d abducted Darius, but of course she hadn’t. Regardless of the t
ruth, the evidence was stacked against her—witnesses, and lies; everything had been paid for with his millions, and he won custody of their son. But her ex-husband didn’t win because he loved Darius. He won to punish our mother by keeping them apart. That’s the type of guy Darius had grown up with.

  Then, to make matters worse, when Darius’s father heard of his plans to raise me after my parents passed away, his father gave Darius a choice: me or his inheritance. Darius, for reasons totally unknown, picked me. Nothing in his life had been easy. So his distance and coldness masked a sweet guy who’d done so much for me. Sometimes I think his hard shell is a layer of protection, because if he ever let himself feel, it would overcome him.

  “Allison,” he says, standing until I lower to my seat, then he takes his. “I ordered your favorite.”

  I tuck my chair closer to the table, noting that he’s perfectly put together, as always. Sharp, tailored gray suit, stylish brown hair, some stubble on his face; my brother looks more like an American athlete than a billionaire. I see a lot of my mom in his eyes; they share the same warm chocolate brown color. “No wonder you’re single,” I reply to his statement, reaching for the glass of white wine in front of me on the table. “Don’t you know women hate when you order for them?”

  Darius arches a brow at the dig, yet ignores me. “How was your day?”

  “Long and exhausting.” I take a big gulp of my wine, delighting in the woodsy hints. “But nothing that a few glasses of wine can’t fix.”

  My brother is sitting unusually still when I lower the glass to the table.

  I blink once…twice…

  Then he addresses me. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

  “Not particularly.” I fold my arms against the white linen, hearing the soft conversations going on around me. “But I’m guessing you’re going to tell me what I should be telling you and why we’re meeting tonight instead of tomorrow.” After I left home, Darius made it a rule for us to have Sunday dinners together. I’m not sure if his motive is to check in on me or if he likes spending time with me, but he’s the only family I’ve got, and I like being around him, so the rest is semantics.

  He finally shakes his head in frustration. “I heard Holt has purchased Richardson.”

  “Oh, that.” I play with the stem of my wineglass and half shrug. “Well, it’s not breaking news or anything that I’ve moved over to Holt. How did you find out?”

  “I was there today for business and saw you in a meeting room.”

  I stiffen in my seat, worrying that maybe Darius told Micah that I’m his half-sister. Darius knows I like to keep our connection quiet, especially in the professional world, so I don’t need to remind him of that, I’m sure. “Oh, yeah, how did your business go?”

  “It went fine,” Darius replies.

  I watch him a moment, wondering now if maybe this dinner is happening because Micah told him about us. The thought infuriates me. But as Darius says, “Holt’s the perfect place for you,” I realize not only did Darius not tell Micah about our association, but Micah must not have mentioned our affair either.

  A part of me knows that I should’ve told Micah that I’m Darius’s half-sister, considering they do business together. The other part thinks telling Darius about Micah is none of his business. The only time I can ever recall Darius discussing my love life with me was when I dated a boy in high school for a few years. You need to be safe, Allison. Do you want me to go to the doctor with you? Not a conversation you want to have with your older brother.

  As a seventeen-year-old girl, I replied to my twenty-seven-year-old brother, Ew! God, no! I have Taylor and her mom for that stuff. Gross, Darius. And that was our birds and bees talk, which never happened again after that day. Thankfully, I still had my mom to buy my first bra, teach me how to shave my legs, and discuss choosing feminine products. I can only imagine how that would’ve gone for Darius. Not that I blame him; he was only a young man when he took me in, after all.

  Besides, the way I see it, unless Micah and I were serious, there’s no need for Darius to know. And we are the direct opposite of serious, so yeah, totally none of Darius’s business.

  I take another sip of my wine as Darius adds, “You’ll do well at Holt and benefit from the advantages of working for a large company. I understand there’s lots of opportunity to move up the corporate ladder.”

  I glance down, avoiding him to hide my disappointment. I can always count on Darius to look at my life in the business sense. That’s what I miss most about having my mother. Those special talks. Darius, though, lived and breathed business growing up. Hell, he tried his best to remove me from public school to send me to some fancy, all-girls private boarding school, which I adamantly refused.

  At the time, I thought he wanted to get rid of me. Now I think it’s because that’s how he grew up and he didn’t know any different. Luckily, when I refused, he backed down.

  Emotions back under control, I lift my head and talk his language. “It’s an impressive company, for sure.” The CEO is even more impressive, as well as complicated and infuriating, considering I shouldn’t be thinking about him, but somehow can’t stop.

  Darius nods in agreement and taps his fingers against the table. “You’ll do well under Micah’s guidance.”

  I burst out laughing. I’d done very well under Micah’s guidance.

  Darius frowns, and I quickly wave him off, shaking my head. “Forget it. It’s nothing. And yes, Holt’s a step up for me. It’s exciting.”

  The waitress comes over to the table then, and I notice Darius had ordered me steak. My brother might not emotionally be there for me, but he takes care of me in his own way. Steak is my favorite, and he knows that.

  When the waitress leaves the table after placing our dinners in front of us, I pick up my fork and knife as Darius asks, “How are your finances?”

  I cut the meat and sigh, looking at him. “That’s a weird question. You know this, right?”

  Darius places his napkin on his lap before he arches a brow at me. “It’s a valid question, given that I’m your guardian, of sorts. I want to be sure you’re doing okay.”

  That’s the problem. My okay and Darius’s are worlds apart. I’m happy with two hundred dollars in my back account. In Darius’s world, I’m barely scraping by on pocket change. “My finances are fine. You don’t need to worry.” And in my world, we don’t care about these things and ask personal questions like that. But in Darius’s world, money and smart business are his biggest thoughts of the day.

  He sticks his fork into the stir-fry he ordered and gives me a level look. “I found out today that you still haven’t touched any of the money I gave you.”

  I chew my steak, buying myself some time to answer him, since I know I won’t ever touch the bank account he set up for me. The money is tainted, as far as I’m concerned, reminding me of the past and a life that I never asked for or wanted. But I can’t hurt Darius by telling him that. He’s doing what he thinks is right by me, because that’s all he knows. I swallow and narrow my eyes on him. “How do you know I haven’t spent any of the money?”

  “Because my accountant told me.” He lowers his fork to his plate, and his eyes soften. “Allison”—Darius is the only one who doesn’t call me by my nickname and I’ve always wondered if that’s some messed-up way to keep me at a distance—“you don’t need to do this all on your own. Your mother would have wanted you to live a good life. Let me help take care of you.”

  God, my stomach rolls at how he says your mother. It’s damn sad he doesn’t call her our mother, which is what she would have wanted. “I live a fantastic life on the salary I make,” I correct him.

  Darius snorts. “You could live a much better life.”

  One lesson I learned very early on from my mother was that money doesn’t make you happy; it’s the priceless things that create lasting memories. “Mom would’ve wanted you to be happy, too,” I fire back.

  Darius freezes halfway from placing
a piece of broccoli into his mouth and slowly lowers his fork to his plate. “Who says I’m not happy?”

  I raise my eyebrows in answer.

  He looks down at his plate, and a few seconds pass before he finally answers me. “I don’t need to discuss my life with my little sister.”

  “I don’t need to discuss my life with my older brother.” When his hard eyes lift to mine, I smile to ease the tension. “Regardless of how wonderful he is and how grateful I am for all he’s done for me.”

  Darius finishes off his broccoli and sighs heavily. “Smart-ass—although, I’ve got to hand it to you, you can insult me and make me feel good about it all at the same time.”

  I reach for his hand across the table, giving his fingers a squeeze, hoping he’ll realize I really do care about him. PDA always makes him squirm. But again, it’s all understandable. He wasn’t raised in a loving household; instead, love was bought with money, which makes me sad and wish things could have been different for him.

  When he moves his hand away, I ignore the pang in my chest. “What can I say? I learned from the best how to stay on my toes.”

  He tips his wineglass to me. “Don’t forget it either.”

  Even his slight grin can’t hide the truth. My older brother appears to be the type of man that has it all, and yet has nothing that matters. He was deeply in love with Taylor, but he ended things with her, for reasons both Taylor and I don’t really know. Though I have my suspicions. Business came before her, because Darius had to fight his way back after his father cut him off. Then, when Darius began tasting his wealth, money became his only focus. Now that he’d made his billions, he didn’t know any other way to live anymore.

  “Don’t you worry,” I reply to his statement. “I won’t forget.” Because if I’m not on my toes around Darius and Micah, and if I ever do forget that I wasn’t raised in a world where love didn’t come first, then I will lose the only thing left of my mother…my memories of her.