The Undercover Billionaire Page 22

  Wolf gave it to her, watching as she began to plug the name into various search engines. He could have told her it would be useless. He’d looked already after receiving his father’s last letter to him, spending hours in front of the computer searching various different public records to see if he could find any trace of her. Then various other records, which were not public and not even legal, that a contact of his had given him access to. But he’d turned up nothing.

  It was like she’d vanished off the face of the earth. God only knew how his father had found her, because he sure as hell couldn’t.

  After fifteen minutes of watching her stare at the computer screen and typing his mother’s name endlessly into different searches, Wolf began to get bored. He’d finished his beer and was considering drinking hers, even though he shouldn’t considering what had happened the last time he’d had too much alcohol.

  He didn’t want to leave her alone for a second. She was way too smart for him, leaving him to rely heavily on his considerable physical skills if he wanted to stop her from doing something she shouldn’t. They were effective when used against her, he had to say, but only if he moved quickly.

  Sadly, that left him with having to watch her like a hawk.

  “I promise I won’t do anything to contact Dad,” she said coolly, not looking up from the screen. “So if you want to go away and do something, then by all means go away and do it.”

  He scowled. “I don’t want to go away and do something.”

  “Then stop doing that thing with your leg. It’s making the table shake.”

  Shit. Wolf stilled the restless bounce of his heel, which he hadn’t realized he’d been doing.

  “Go on,” Olivia murmured. “You promised me two hours. I promise you I won’t do anything to warn my Dad.”

  He probably shouldn’t leave her, but he did have a whole lot of crap to organize. And he was finding it very difficult being in the confined space of the cabin, with the scent of strawberries and sex all around him and her so very close and wearing so very little.

  He wanted to touch her too much. He wanted more than the quick fuck on the bench. He wanted to take her back to the stateroom and take that shirt off her, use his hands and his mouth on her, find out what she really meant when she’d said she’d loved him once.

  But there was no time. He could do that later, after all this was over.

  And it would be over very soon.

  “Fine.” He pushed himself out of the seat. “But you’re to stay in here, understand?”

  She merely lifted a hand and made a flicking gesture with her fingers.

  He wanted to take that hand and nip those delicate fingers, suck each one into his mouth. Suck them like she’d no doubt suck his cock.

  Hell. He needed to get out of here.

  He left the living area, pulling shut the door that separated it from the small corridor with the steps up to the deck, locking it with the keys in his pocket. No fancy fucking codes today. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  Then he went into the stateroom and pulled open a drawer in the built-in dresser, finding a spare hoodie and tugging it on. In another drawer he found an unopened burner phone, which he broke out of the packaging, inserting a new SIM card into it. There was enough charge in it to send a couple of texts, which was all he needed.

  Going outside was tempting fate, but he was as certain as he could be that no one would have tracked them to the Lady just yet, so he could probably risk going above deck. And if anyone did happen to be watching, all they’d see is a guy in a hoodie checking his phone. They wouldn’t know who he was and they certainly wouldn’t know who he had tucked up safe in his galley.

  Wolf took the steps up to the deck, sucking in a deep breath as soon as he was outside. Clearing his head of the scent of Olivia with the sharp smell of cold, engine oil, and salt, and the thousand other scents the city produced.

  Darkness was sliding over the river, the lights of Manhattan flicking on.

  It was peaceful with the water all around him. Gave him some distance from the city itself, making him feel like he could simply stand there and observe it.

  De Santis would be going out of his mind by now, that was for sure.

  Wolf smiled in the darkness, then reached for the new phone.

  He debated calling his brothers yet again, to see what kind of shit was going down with de Santis, because no doubt they’d be keeping tabs on what was happening. But then he decided against it. He’d have to explain what he was trying to do, and neither Van nor Lucas would understand. They’d try to stop him, which wasn’t happening either.

  He’d call them later, when de Santis was out of the picture and he had his mother back. When he could get that birth certificate and show them the truth of what Noah had been to him.

  First up though …

  Opening the browser on the phone, he accessed a web-based text messaging service, then entered the number he wanted to text, plus a message.

  Yes, I have her. Yes, she’s safe. But if you want her back, you’re going to have to meet me to talk.

  That should do it. De Santis wouldn’t be able to track the new burner from the text since he’d used a web service, but he’d understand. Wolf would give him an hour or two to sweat before sending a follow-up text. He could also use the time to think about where he wanted to meet with de Santis.

  He lingered on the deck for another twenty minutes or so, pacing up and down to get rid of the restlessness that had gripped him down below decks, inhaling more of the sharp night air.

  Then he went back down the stairs to the galley/living area, grabbing his keys to unlock the door.

  As he pushed it open, Olivia jumped, as if his sudden entrance had given her a fright.

  “Hey,” he murmured, grinning. “It’s only me. Your friendly neighborhood kidnapper.”

  She didn’t smile, staring at him with a white, stricken look on her face.

  Something in his gut dropped away. “What’s up?”

  She shook her head then slowly turned around the laptop on the table so it was facing him.

  He couldn’t see it clearly from where he was standing, and suddenly he didn’t want to. Because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that something had put that look on her face, and whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

  “Tell me yourself,” he ordered harshly.

  “It’s better if you look—”

  “Just do it, Olivia.”

  Her blue gaze came to his, horribly direct and full of what he suspected was sympathy. Which didn’t make any sense, because why would she be sympathetic?

  “I found your mother, Wolf. There’s a reason she was so difficult to find, why there was no trace of her. Because you were looking for someone who’s still alive.” Her voice cracked. “I’m so sorry. Your mother is dead. She died twenty-seven years ago. Six months after you were adopted.”

  He frowned, his brain refusing to deal with the information. That was wrong. Very, very wrong. His mother was alive, his father had said. He’d been searching for her for years and then he’d found her just before he’d died.

  She couldn’t be dead. That wasn’t possible.

  A tear ran down Olivia’s cheek and he wanted to laugh, because why was she crying? It was just another lie. She must have gotten his mother mixed up with someone else or something.

  “No,” he said, smiling and shaking his head. “That’s not true. You got the wrong woman.” He took a few steps over to the computer sitting on the table, glancing down at the screen.

  The image blurred as if his brain refused to accept it, and he had to blink hard to focus. Then he had to blink hard again, because it couldn’t be what it appeared to be, it just couldn’t.

  But it was. A death certificate with her name and the date of her death clearly typed.

  Olivia had been telling the truth.

  His mother was dead and had been all this time.

  His whole life his father had lied to him.

  CHAPTE
R THIRTEEN

  Wolf had gone bone white, his whole body stiffening. And Olivia felt her heart crack in her chest. She wanted to look away, not see the realization dawn over those roughly handsome, familiar features, but she made herself do it anyway.

  She didn’t take any pleasure in destroying his world, even though it hadn’t come as a shock to her to discover that Wolf’s mother had died. She’d searched for a while without turning anything up and had wondered if perhaps the reason for that was because his mother had died recently without him knowing it. So she’d searched among the death records instead.

  What had come as a shock was finding out that his mother had died twenty-seven years ago in an institution in Wyoming. Six months after giving Wolf up for adoption. The cause of death was listed as an overdose, but Olivia knew what that meant. Suicide.

  Grief had gripped her then, because not only had it meant that Wolf had been holding onto a hope that had never existed, he’d been holding onto a lie.

  A lie his father had told him. A fiction his father had created and maintained all those years. Using it as an incentive to get Wolf to do what he wanted him to do. Crafting his son into the perfect weapon.

  Olivia watched that weapon now and saw the agony that stripped those jewel bright eyes of any remaining warmth. That twisted his mouth and hollowed his beautiful face, a flare of grief so intense it made her heart not only crack, but nearly shatter.

  She got jerkily to her feet and started around the table toward him, no thought in her head but to go to him, not caring about the fact that he was determined to kill her father. The only thing that mattered was that he was in pain and she wanted to help.

  “No.” The word vibrated with shock, and it wasn’t pain in his eyes now, it was rage. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”

  Her throat closed up and she froze. “I don’t know why your father lied. I don’t know why—” She broke off, as he turned without another word and stormed out of the galley, slamming the door behind him.

  The key turned in the lock, the way it had before when she’d told him to go, to get that restless, impatient energy of his out of the cabin, because she couldn’t think with him there, taking up all the air and all the space.

  Couldn’t think with his hard, muscled body half naked and so close.

  Now, all she could think about was how she wanted to put her arms around him, do something, anything to ease the hurt.

  But he was angry. In shock. And now he’d locked her in here and she couldn’t even go after him.

  She moved back to the curving seat and sat down, her eyes feeling dry and gritty, her chest tight with grief.

  Wolf had done nothing but hurt her since he’d kidnapped her from her bedroom, and yet seeing him hurt also hurt her. He was as wedded to his own fictions as she’d been to hers, in many ways. Why else hadn’t he thought to search for his mother among the dead? It wouldn’t have taken much. But he’d so firmly believed that she was alive, that he hadn’t even considered the possibility.

  Olivia eyed the beer he’d gotten for her for a second, then she reached out and took a large swallow. It wasn’t cold anymore and there was a bitterness to it that made her pull a face, but she didn’t put the bottle down.

  He’d only wanted a family. That’s what he’d told her. That’s what he’d always wanted. He’d lost his father, and now his mother. His mother who’d been dead for years. There would be no chance of a family for Wolf Tate, not anymore.

  The family he wanted was gone. Perhaps it had never really existed in the first place. And not only that, the father he’d adored had been lying to him for years.

  Olivia took another sip of the beer, trying to ease the ache in her throat.

  She could well imagine why Noah had lied. He’d wanted a weapon, aimed at the heart of his enemy. And Wolf—loyal, passionate, protective—was perfect for the job. Yet, Noah had needed something extra to make sure Wolf would do what he’d asked him to and there was no doubt he’d used Wolf’s need for a family to get him to do that.

  He’d told him his mother was alive and that after de Santis was dead, he’d get her back. That Wolf would be acknowledged as his son. A powerful incentive for a man who’d only wanted to belong.

  Because that’s what it was about, wasn’t it? He’d been given away and then adopted by a man who’d been cold and distant by all accounts, and who’d kept that distance between them, no matter that Wolf had been told he was Noah’s real son. That may be the case, and Noah may not have beaten him, but keeping someone like Wolf at arm’s length? Someone who felt that deeply and passionately? It must have been devastating for Wolf. It must have hurt.

  You know how that feels.

  Oh yes, she knew. How desperately she’d wanted more from her mother. More hugs, more kisses, more time. But there had never been any time, not when her mother spent half her life “sleeping” in her room, out of her mind with drink and depression.

  Then that time had simply run out.

  She blinked fiercely, sympathy and pain turning over and over inside her.

  She realized that Wolf had never gotten any time at all, and all these years he’d thought he would.

  Damn fathers. Damn fathers and their fucking secrets. Their lies. Their manipulations.

  Olivia drained the bottle, but the pain in her chest didn’t go away.

  Her gaze fell on the laptop and certainty shifted and settled inside her.

  She’d been avoiding this for too long, been afraid for too long. Wanting to preserve her safe little world, all the fictions she’d believed in. Creating identities around people because she was too afraid of the reality. Creating identities around Wolf, around her father.

  Well, she was still afraid of the truth. Still afraid that the people she cared about weren’t the people she thought they were. Weren’t the people she loved.

  But she couldn’t be afraid any more. Couldn’t hold onto love for the sake of it because she was afraid of being alone. Afraid of being unloved. She was stronger than that. If nothing else, being with Wolf had certainly taught her that much. There were many things she could bear.

  She wasn’t fragile like her mother. The truth hurt, but that was better than believing a lie.

  Only once you knew the truth, could you move on.

  Olivia reached out and pulled the laptop over.

  Time to find out the truth about her father.

  * * *

  It was a bad idea to leave the yacht, a bad idea to go out into the city, but all he knew was that he had to move. He had to leave. Had to get away from the terrible sympathy in Olivia’s blue eyes. From the glaring lie that was staring up at him from the computer screen.

  His mother’s death certificate.

  He walked, didn’t run. Pulling the hoodie over his head so no one saw his face. He moved quickly, going nowhere in particular, needing the sensation of doing something, needing something to occupy his tense muscles.

  Eventually he broke into a jog, because walking was too slow and there was too much adrenaline inside him.

  Too much anger. Too much grief.

  His mother was dead. She’d been dead for twenty-seven years. There had never been a chance for them to be a family. Never. And all those promises his father had made him …

  They were nothing but lies.

  He ran harder.

  People paid him no attention—there were always idiots out running at night in the middle of winter—and he ignored them. He just kept on going.

  He could fucking do this all night. Run right around the entire length of Manhattan. Whatever it took to ease the agony in his chest.

  His father had lied to him. His father had made him a promise, knowing how much it meant to Wolf, knowing how badly he’d wanted his family back again. The family he’d never gotten a chance to have.

  “We’ll find your mother, Wolf, I promise. As soon as de Santis ceases to be a threat to us. And then you can finally be my son.”

  His feet pounded the pavement. Li
es. Lies. Lies.

  Why had Noah said that to him? Why had he promised him that, knowing all that time that Wolf’s mother was dead? Why had he said he’d found her when he would have had to know she was dead? Noah wasn’t a man who left anything to chance, and he would have wanted to know what had happened to Wolf’s mother the day he’d adopted him. Especially if she was the mother of his only child.

  Wolf kept running, going harder, faster. Trying to outrun the voice in his head that kept whispering that if Noah had lied to him about his mother, what other lies had he told?

  Are you even his son?

  Another bolt of agony twisted in his chest and it had nothing to do with how fast he was running. Not when he could run fifty miles without a break.

  He tried to go faster, because he didn’t want to think about that, didn’t even want to consider the possibility, but it stuck in his head like a splinter and he couldn’t get it out.

  You have to know. You need to.

  He came to a stop, the dark city on one side of him, the river flowing endlessly on the other.

  He couldn’t outrun this. And he needed to know. He had to.

  Turning to face the water, he dug into his pocket and grabbed his phone, punching in a number.

  “Wolf?” Van answered instantly. “Jesus Christ, that better be you on another burner, because I’ve got something to—”

  “Did Dad ever lie to you?” Wolf interrupted harshly. He didn’t want to hear whatever it was his brother had to say. This was too important.

  “What?” Van sounded taken aback. “What do you mean did Dad ever lie to me?”

  “You heard my fucking question.”

  Van must have heard the desperation in his voice too, because there was a brief silence and then he said, “Yeah, of course Dad lied. In fact, that’s what Lucas and I need to talk to you about. There’s a few things you don’t know that—”

  “I know them.” Another interruption, but he didn’t give a shit. “I know that Dad changed the boundaries on the ranch to include the de Santis oil strike. I know Dad stole de Santis’s fucking oil.”