The Undercover Billionaire Read online

  There was a shocked silence down the other end of the phone.

  “I knew about Chloe too,” Wolf went on before his brother could speak. “Before you did. I knew all along she was de Santis’s kid.”

  Another long silence.

  “He told you?” Van’s voice had gone flat. “He told you all of that?”

  “Yeah. I knew right from the beginning.”

  “Wolf,” Van began.

  “No, I don’t want to fucking talk about it right now.” He could hear his own voice, getting harsher, rougher. You’re cracking up. “What I wanna know is did Dad ever lie to you about your parents?”

  “My parents? No. They were crack addicts. That’s it. End of story.” Another pause. “Why?”

  His throat had tightened and he had to force out his next question. “Are you in Wyoming?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I need you do to something for me. I need you to go into Dad’s study and find my birth certificate. The original.”

  More shock. Wolf could virtually feel it oozing down the phone line.

  “What the fuck is going on, Wolf?” Van growled. “You won’t answer any of my calls—”

  “For once in your fucking life just do what I say,” Wolf ground out, barely hanging on to his patience. Barely hanging on to himself.

  Jesus Christ, if Van was going to get into an argument about this, he didn’t know what he would do.

  But Van must have heard the cracks in his voice, signs of his barely leashed fury, because after yet another long silence, he said, “Okay. Hang on.”

  In the background Wolf could hear footsteps and a door opening.

  “You still on base?” Van asked neutrally.

  “Yeah.” He’d been telling his brothers the same lie for a couple of weeks now, that he’d cut short his bereavement leave and gone back to Virginia. But he hadn’t. He’d been staying in Manhattan on the Lady all this time.

  More sounds. Drawers being opened, then shut; the rustle of papers.

  “Got it,” Van said at last. “What do you want to know?”

  Everything inside Wolf drew into a hard, tight knot.

  Do you really need to know this?

  His jaw ached, his teeth clenched together hard, and again, he had to force out the question. “My mother’s name should be there. But I need to know if my father’s is too.”

  There was a silence and in it he could hear his own heartbeat, louder than fucking thunder.

  “No,” Van said. “The box is blank.”

  Blank. The box was blank.

  He lied about that, too.

  Wolf stared at the river, at the dark water going by, at the lights shining across it. Van was saying something in his ear, but he couldn’t work out what so he hit the disconnect button to shut him the fuck up.

  Noah had promised him his name was there. He’d promised. Noah Tate, father of Wolf Tate. And then when de Santis was dead and his mother had been found, Noah would let the world know who Wolf really was.

  Who Wolf really belonged to.

  But there was no name in that box, despite Noah’s promises.

  What did it mean? What the fuck did it mean?

  It means you don’t belong to anyone.

  Wolf lifted his phone again, punched in another number, his hand shaking. And this time it rang for longer before Lucas’s cold voice came down the line. “Who is this?”

  “It’s me.” Wolf couldn’t keep the rawness from staining the words. “I wanna know something. Did Dad ever lie to you?”

  “What? Has Van gotten in touch with you—”

  “Just answer the fucking question!” Wolf roared, not caring who heard him. “Did Dad ever lie to you? About your parents?”

  There was the slightest pause. “No. Dad didn’t lie to me,” Lucas said. “He told me the truth.”

  Wolf gripped so tightly onto his phone, the plastic creaked. “What about?”

  “My parents died in a fire. Everyone told me that Mom died of smoke inhalation. But she didn’t. Dad found out that she’d burned to death instead.” It was very faint, but Wolf heard it nonetheless, the sound of pain in his brother’s otherwise emotionless voice. “He told me when I was thirteen.”

  Wolf’s chest had gone tight and sore, squeezed in some massive, inexorable vice. “Why? Why the hell did he tell you that?”

  “Because I was too volatile. I set fire to the stables and nearly killed all those horses, so Dad told me about my mother, to teach me the value of control.”

  Oh Jesus Christ. The tightness in his chest got worse.

  Unlike Lucas, he hadn’t been given any lessons in the value of control. No, instead his father had done the opposite. He’d let him have his emotions, carefully cultivating his need to belong to someone, starving his hunger for love, his desperation for family. Encouraging loyalty and then Wolf’s righteous anger at how de Santis was targeting the Tate family. Promising Wolf he’d get everything he wanted eventually, if only he did what his father told him.

  Noah had wanted Lucas cold and emotionless. He’d wanted Wolf full of righteous rage. Because Wolf was the weapon. The sledgehammer he was going to use to break his enemy—and anger was the fuel he needed to fire it.

  Anger and love.

  Lucas’s voice had turned tinny, and Wolf realized he’d dropped the phone from his ear.

  “Wolf?” Lucas was saying. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Wolf said nothing. Instead, he drew back his hand and flung the phone into the river with all his strength.

  It disappeared into the water without even a ripple.

  He stared at it, feeling as if the world around was full of cracks and was going to shatter at any moment. Or maybe that was just himself. He felt so fucking hollow he wouldn’t have been surprised.

  Noah had lied to Van, but he’d told the truth to Lucas. And he’d lied to Wolf about his mother. Had he lied about being Wolf’s father too?

  Jesus, what was the truth? What were the lies? And if he wasn’t Noah’s son, who the fuck was he?

  You’re no one’s. You don’t belong to anyone.

  The ground under his feet felt unsteady, as if there were chasms and crevasses all around him and one misstep could take him down into a pit so deep he’d fall for days.

  “Don’t ask questions, Wolf,” Noah had told him one day, after he’d been persistently asking about his mother. “Your job isn’t to think, remember? That’s mine. Your job is to be strong and do what you’re told. You’re a soldier, that’s what you are. You’re my soldier.”

  And he had been. He’d been Noah’s good soldier. Not thinking, obeying orders, doing what he was told. Believing everything his father told him, because he loved his father and his father was always right. His father also wanted him, needed him.

  You were not always very smart.

  His hands were gripping the rail that separated the river from the sidewalk, hanging on so tightly to stop the grief and formless rage that was tearing him apart from escaping.

  All he wanted to do was go to a bar, find some drunks, pick a fight. Plunge his fists into someone’s face. Break someone. Cause some pain.

  But even now, even when he was dying inside, he had some sense left that doing that wasn’t a good idea. The media, already lapping up the story of Van and his adoptive sister, would love it if the “wild one” of the Tate family got caught in a bar fight.

  Wolf slowly, painfully, let go of the rail.

  Who was he now? What was he now? He had no idea. For so long he’d believed he was Noah Tate’s true son and that he had a mission to fulfill, and at the end of that mission, he’d claim his reward. That he’d be where he belonged, with people who loved him.

  But that reward was gone now. And the people he’d thought would love him were both dead. One had given him away and one had used him. Neither of them had loved him.

  All he had left was the mission.

  Kill de Santis. That’s what he’d been trained to do. That’s w
hat his whole life had been about. All those years spent honing his physical skills. All those years spent getting close to Cesare.

  All those years spent lying to Olivia … hurting her …

  Ah fuck.

  The pain in his chest was bright and sharp, like knives.

  It was all for nothing, wasn’t it? All for a lying, manipulating man who’d done someone wrong once, and who was too greedy to make amends. Not that de Santis was innocent. No, he was as bad as Noah. He’d lied to and manipulated his own daughter, just as Noah had lied to and manipulated his own son.

  If you’re even Noah’s son.

  Wolf turned his back on the river and leaned against the rail, his hands in fists at his sides, furious, impotent rage whirling like a tornado inside him.

  He didn’t know what to do. He had nothing. No reward. Nothing to fight for, nothing to aim at. No one who needed him. No one to belong to.

  His direction had been taken from him, his purpose lost.

  You still have a mission. Are you going to let it all go to waste? Don’t think—that’s not your strong point. Just do what you’re told.

  Something savage turned over inside him.

  Yeah, that’s right. There was nothing to be gained by these endless fucking questions, because there were no fucking answers. Thinking only led to pain, to confusion. Thinking led to a whole lot of weak emotions he wasn’t supposed to be feeling in the first place. Emotions like love, like loneliness. Like need.

  Anyway, he wasn’t a thinker, or a strategist. He wasn’t a commander.

  He was the weapon and he had a target. He had a mission to complete and he was going to fucking complete it.

  It was all he knew. All he was. It was the only thing he had left.

  Wolf shoved the pain and the grief to one side, concentrating only on the anger, then he pushed himself away from the rail and began to run back the way he had come.

  He ran and ran hard, stopping only to pick up a new burner phone and get a new SIM. He wouldn’t check to see if de Santis had replied to his text yet or not, he’d let the fucker sweat a bit longer. Maybe even leave it till the morning.

  And in the meantime?

  Normally when he had a whole lot of rage to burn off, he went to the gym, worked out till his muscles screamed. But he couldn’t do that here, and running would only heighten his chances of being seen.

  He was fucking lucky he hadn’t been spotted as it was.

  No, he couldn’t work out, and since drinking himself insensible was out of the question, there was only one other option.

  Olivia. He may have lost everything else, but he hadn’t lost her.

  His heart rate began to pick up as he reached the boat basin, and suddenly he couldn’t think of anything else.

  He didn’t have to explain anything to her. She knew everything already, all his secrets, all his lies. She knew how badly his father had lied to him. She knew what he’d been promised and what he’d been denied.

  She knew everything and she was the only person in his entire fucking life who did, and he hadn’t realized until now what that meant to him.

  He may not belong to her, but she certainly belonged to him.

  He ran harder, thumping down the docks to where the Lady was moored, then over the gangplank and onto the deck. Gripping the handrails on either side of the stairs, he slid down them without even touching a step, landing in the corridor. Then he grabbed the key out of his pocket and unlocked the galley door.

  Olivia was sitting where he’d left her, on the bench with the laptop open in front of her. Two empty beer bottles were beside her and when she looked up at him, her eyes were red.

  Those fucking feelings twisted and knotted in his chest, reminding him of everything he’d shoved aside. All the grief and the pain, and the sudden, intense realization that in doing what he’d done to get closer to Cesare de Santis, in using her to further that end, he was no better than his goddamn father.

  “You were right,” she said before he could speak. “You were right about Dad. While you’ve been away, I tried to get into his intranet, but he’s changed the passwords. And I’m sorry, but I found a way around the blocks you had on webmail. I really wanted to look at my own email records, to see if I could find that link between Dad and May, because he’d get me to send through things for May sometimes, or forward things.”

  Wolf had never wished he hadn’t been right before. But in that moment, seeing the pain in her lovely eyes, he wished he had been. He wished he’d been wrong about Cesare de Santis. He wasn’t even mad that she’d found a way around his blocks.

  “I discovered a few emails in my sent box with heavily encrypted attachments. They were from Dad to May, and I don’t know what the attachments are. But I do know the encryption is one that DS Corp uses in its labs, for anything that’s highly classified or commercially sensitive. And anything at all to do with weapons developments.” Carefully, Olivia reached out and closed the laptop. “I can’t decrypt the files, but whatever they are, Dad didn’t want anyone to know about them. And since he stepped down as CEO of DS Corp, I can’t think of a single reason why he’d use encryption that strong for anything.” She put her hands on the table and slowly stood, as if in pain. “Except I suppose there is a reason, isn’t there?” Her gaze met his. “Those weapons deals you told me about. That … would definitely be something he’d use that level of encryption for.”

  Wolf stared at her, not saying a word. What was there to say? Words were useless. They meant nothing. And nothing was going to make the betrayal any easier.

  “Dad used me to send those files for him,” she went on, moving around the table, coming toward him. “He knew I would never look at them. He knew I’d never even think to look at them.”

  Wolf’s whole body tightened as she came closer, her warm, familiar scent surrounding him. Her hair was hanging around her shoulders and she was still wearing his shirt, her legs bare, her skin pale and silky. But there were dark circles beneath her eyes, and her jaw was tight, and in those deep blue eyes there was nothing but weariness. Disappointment. Grief.

  “He used me,” Olivia said, coming to stand right in front of him. “He lied to me. Both of them did, Wolf. Both of them lied to us, betrayed us. And for what? For greed. For some stupid fucking black stuff coming out of the ground.” Her voice broke on the last word, but there were no tears in her eyes now, just a burning blue flame.

  He had nothing left in him to give her. No words to make things right. His own rage and grief took up every part of his heart, and yet somehow, there was room for her pain as well. And he was grateful for that, because he knew he didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve to have her give herself to him the way she had.

  Not when nothing had changed. He still couldn’t let her go and he was still going to use her as bait to lure her father. He was still going to kill that fucker first chance he got. And he’d still hurt her with his lies.

  He couldn’t do anything about that, but at least he could help them both forget. For a little while.

  Wolf lifted his hands to her face, cradling the delicate line of her jaw in his palms. She leaned into him, the warmth of her skin both easing the ache in his chest at the same time it made his dick hard. “I think I want you to touch me now,” he said roughly. “And I think I want to touch you. You okay with that?”

  Her hands came up to rest on his chest. “Yes.” Her gaze had darkened even further. “I don’t want to feel this anymore, Wolf. I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “I know.” He stroked his thumbs along her jaw, watching the shadows move in her eyes. “This changes nothing, though. You understand that, right? I’m still on a mission. And I’m gonna do what I have to do.” He had to get that out there, so she was under no illusions about him. So they were clear. There were already too many lies clouding everything, he wasn’t going to add to them.

  Her gaze didn’t flinch. “I understand. As long as you know that I’ll do what I have to do to stop you. Da
d might have lied to me, but he doesn’t deserve death. That kind of judgment isn’t your call to make.”

  Despite everything, the pain and fury, the betrayal and the grief, and the ache of shame he felt whenever he looked into her face, he felt his mouth curl in a half smile. Even with what she’d been suffering too, she wasn’t lying down and taking it. She was still determined to challenge him.

  He fucking loved that about her.

  You probably fucking love her, too.

  The thought came and went, bright as summer lightning. But he couldn’t take it in, and he didn’t want to think about it, so he didn’t.

  Instead he murmured, “You can’t stop me, baby. But feel free to try.”

  Then he held her tenderly as he covered her mouth with his own.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Wolf’s mouth was hot and his hands on her jaw were gentle. It was a slow, aching kiss, like the one he’d given her in the hotel that first time, coaxing and tasting. His tongue touching the seam of her lips, encouraging her to open. And she did, because she was desperate to taste him.

  It was wrong to want this, to give herself over to him. Especially after everything he’d told her and everything he’d done. Everything he still wanted to do, too.

  But there was no one else in the whole world who knew what this kind of betrayal felt like. And he did. Sure, he’d betrayed her too, but he’d also been used. He’d been manipulated like she had.

  It had hurt to find those files. Hurt to realize what they meant. And perhaps what had hurt worst of all was the fact that she hadn’t even been shocked. As if a part of her had always known what she’d discover.

  She felt stupid. Betrayed. Hurt beyond measure. That her father had not only lied to her about what he’d been doing, he’d also used her to cover his tracks. He’d used her love for him, her desire to please him, her desperation for his validation. And all she could think about was that it was true. She had been nothing but a tool for him. A means to an end.

  He didn’t care about her for her. Because if he had, then surely he wouldn’t have lied to her so completely and for so long.

  It’s true. You’ve never been precious to anyone. Not your mother and not him.