Bound Beneath His Pain (Dirty Little Secrets 1)

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?”