The Undercover Billionaire Read online

  “I manage his diary, yes.”

  “And his email?”

  She frowned. Why would Wolf want to know that? “I have access, yes. Why?”

  “Because I need information. Your father has a lot of fingers in a lot of pies, but there’s one in particular I’m interested in. He’s got a contact in the Defense Department who’s been looking the other way while your father operates a nice little gun-running business through the military. I want evidence of their relationship.”

  That didn’t make any sense to Olivia. Why would Wolf want that? Wasn’t Wolf supposed to be working for her father? At least he had been for over the last ten years.

  Still, that was beside the point anyway. Her father didn’t have any secret government contracts, so what on earth was he talking about?

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She put her cup down on the coffee table. “Dad doesn’t run guns. He never did. And he certainly doesn’t have Defense Department contacts these days. He stepped down as CEO of DS Corp a year ago. He’s retired now, as well you know.”

  The truth was that her father hadn’t really retired, he’d been forced out by his four sons, something she still hadn’t forgiven her brothers for. Not that they cared. Not about their father and not about her, either.

  But she was okay with that. They apparently didn’t know what family loyalty meant, but she did. Her father might be estranged from his sons, but he had her at least.

  Wolf drained his cup and put it down with a click. “What I know is that he’s been dabbling in foreign weapons sales. And not just plain old stock standard rocket launchers and shit like that, but experimental weaponry. He’s been using the military to find buyers, and like I said, he’s also been paying certain government officials to look the other way while he does it.”

  Olivia almost smiled. That was … crazy. In the past her father hadn’t exactly been squeaky clean, but that had been years ago. He was retired now, spending his days seeing old friends and doing the odd charity function, going out to the golf course and generally enjoying life. He had a few business interests on the side that she helped him take care of, but nothing at all like what Wolf had just described.

  “Where did you hear this?” She made no effort to hide her surprise. “Because wherever you did, it’s not true. I mean, you’ve been working for him for ten years, Wolf. You should know better than that.”

  He should. Wolf had come into the de Santis fold at seventeen, after her father had offered him support and asylum from Noah Tate’s violent rages. She still remembered the first time she’d seen him, a glimpse through the doorway of the library as he’d been shown into her father’s office.

  His presence in the de Santis household had been a secret, since everyone hated the Tates and her father hadn’t wanted it known that he’d extended an olive branch to Noah Tate’s youngest adoptive son. But no one had known she’d been in the library—no one tended to notice her anyway—and so she’d seen him. An impossibly tall, impossibly broad young man already at seventeen, with a black eye and a swollen jaw.

  Excitement was rare in her sheltered life, and fascinated both by the rare glimpse of her family’s most entrenched enemy and by the bruises on his face, Olivia had taken to hanging out in the library just in case she saw him again. And sure enough, the following week at the same time, she had.

  Then the week after that, Wolf had been shown into the library to wait since her father had an earlier appointment, and she’d hidden behind the door so no one would know she was there. And once the door had closed, there she’d been, alone in the library with one of the evil Tates. It had been frightening, yet thrilling at the same time. Certainly the most exciting thing to have happened to her in all her young life.

  He’d been studying the bookshelves, but the moment the door closed he’d noticed her, his gaze coming to hers almost instantly. She’d felt it then, like a lightning bolt hitting the center of her chest, a sizzle of electricity, a connection. It had knocked the breath completely out of her and it was only afterward that she’d taken in that not only was he gorgeous, but he had the most amazing eyes she’d ever seen, one a deep dark blue, the other an intense leaf green.

  He’d been surprised to see her, obviously not expecting anyone to be in the room, and had been even more surprised when she’d introduced herself. She’d babbled something about the book she was reading—a collection of Greek myths that she loved—not expecting him to know what the hell she was talking about or even be interested. But he had known. He’d asked her what her favorite myth was, so she told him it was Hades and Persephone. And then he revealed that his favorite was Theseus and the Minotaur. And then they’d had a long discussion about all the different myths, and it had been amazing—and probably the longest conversation she’d had with anyone ever about stuff that she liked.

  She’d seen him regularly after that, hanging out in the library whenever it was his time to see her father. He’d never talked much about his family to her, only a few mentions here and there of his brothers. Definitely not about his father. But she already knew about that thief Noah Tate and what he’d stolen from the de Santis family. And that Wolf had come to Cesare for help in taking Noah down.

  So yes, ten years, and Wolf was asking her these … strange questions? It didn’t make any sense.

  Wolf’s gaze held an expression she couldn’t decipher. He said nothing, leaning back in his chair in a long, lazy sprawl. He ran an impatient hand through his short Mohawk, making her own palm itch to touch it, gazing at her with that impenetrable look on his face.

  “So I guess, if you have access to his diary, you’re still your dad’s personal assistant, right?” he asked eventually. “I mean, that’s what you told me in your emails.”

  Huh. Another strange question. She’d told him that a long time ago.

  “Yes. Like I said, I arrange his diary, help him out with his business interests, that kind of thing.”

  “Right, right.” He tilted his head, staring at her, making her feel like a bug under a microscope. “What do you know about Daniel May?”

  An uncomfortable feeling twisted inside her. Daniel was a business contact of her father’s, one whom her father had encouraged her to be friendly to. She’d even gone out on a date with him, after Cesare had encouraged it. Not that it had been very successful. Daniel seemed to be a nice enough man, if quite a bit older than she was, but he’d spent the majority of the date answering phone calls, which was a bit off-putting.

  But what did that have to do with Wolf?

  Maybe he’s jealous?

  Olivia looked down at her hands, her heart rate speeding up. What a stupid thought. Of course he wasn’t jealous. After the embarrassing slip she’d made when she’d seen the candles and the ice bucket, his very definitive reaction had certainly put to rest to any fantasies she might have been entertaining that he felt something for her.

  “Daniel’s just a friend of Dad’s,” she said, the uncomfortable feeling digging deeper. “I don’t know why you’re asking me these questions.”

  Needing to move, she got up from the sofa, grabbing the empty coffee cups and taking them over to the coffee station. “Sorry I can’t help you, Wolf. I’d really love to sit down with you and have a chat, but it’s probably time for me to get back.”

  There was no answer.

  She turned around.

  He was sitting in the armchair, long legs stretched out in front of him, one hand still scrubbing through his hair in an absent movement. The long sleeve of his thermal had pulled up, revealing a flash of color on the tanned skin of his wrist. She blinked. Was that a tattoo?

  Before she could get a good look at it, however, he dropped his hand then pushed himself out of the armchair. He didn’t speak, moving down the short corridor that led to the door of the room.

  She followed along behind him, expecting him to open the door for her. But he didn’t. Instead he stopped in front of the door and took his phone out of his pocket, then waved the roo
m card in front of it, before swiping it through the card reader. The phone beeped and he typed something into the screen.

  Nothing momentous happened, though she had no idea what she was expecting.

  He turned around.

  She was standing in the middle of the hallway, and it was quite narrow and he was very, very tall. And very, very broad.

  He took a couple of steps toward her, his gaze holding hers, towering over her. Making her feel small and fragile. It was exciting and she didn’t know quite why, her heart beating very hard inside her chest.

  The heat coming from his heavily muscled body was making her mouth go dry, and the dark, spicy scent of cedar was heavy in the air around her. And all she could think about was how much she wanted to put out her hands and lay them against the hard wall of his chest.

  She’d never touched a man like that before. Never wanted to. Her heart had always and would always belong to him, that would never change. It didn’t matter that he’d never given any sign that he felt the same way about her. It made no difference at all to her poor heart. It beat for him and him alone.

  Olivia stared up into the deep blue and green of his eyes, suddenly overcome by his nearness.

  “You might wanna get out of the way,” he said, all rough gravel and sand. “I need to take a shower.”

  Heat rushed into her cheeks. Had he caught her staring? Great, second time this morning she’d made an ass out of herself in front of him.

  She swallowed, smoothing her nightgown reflexively to cover her embarrassment, then stood aside. “Then you’ll take me home?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He went past her, disappearing through the double doors that led to the bedroom.

  Once she heard the bathroom door close, she leaned back against the wall and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to get her racing heartbeat under control.

  This whole morning had been one weird thing after another, and her getting all weak at the knees and being ridiculously female in his presence was the icing on a really strange cake.

  She wasn’t usually this … flappable. In fact, she didn’t let much get to her at all, because her father preferred it when she was calm. Maybe it was only that she was tired. She had been woken up at four in the morning after all.

  It’s not tiredness. It’s Wolf.

  Olivia sighed. Okay, of course it was Wolf. It was Wolf and the ridiculous torch she’d been carrying for him for years. And seeing him again for the first time in years. In which case, him dropping her home as quickly as possible was probably the best idea, before she could make an even bigger idiot of herself than she had already.

  Pushing herself away from the wall, she glanced at the door.

  There was no need to leave now, not when he said he was going to take her home, but she found herself moving toward the door anyway. Reaching out to test the door handle.

  It was locked.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Wolf shrugged out of his clothing and stepped into the white marble shower, sighing as the hot water streamed over him. He shut his eyes and turned his face into the flow, trying to get his mind to calm the hell down, because it was too full. Too full of everything.

  He couldn’t work out whether Olivia genuinely didn’t know anything or whether she was playing him. Given that she’d always seemed pretty open and honest in her emails, it was difficult to believe that she was playing him. Then again, it was also difficult to believe she didn’t know anything.

  She was a smart woman. If she was her father’s PA, she was bound to handle more than his diary and his supposed “business interests.” And she certainly had to know that her father was sketchy as fuck. She couldn’t be totally oblivious to his true nature, surely? Maybe once, when she’d been sixteen. But not now.

  The other option was that she was protecting the asshole. That somehow she’d sensed that his reasons for wanting the information weren’t good ones and she was trying to make out like she knew nothing.

  Ah fuck, this was turning into a piece of shit. He’d thought keeping her here would be easy, that he’d feel fine about it, but as it turned out, he didn’t like it.

  Then again, his feelings about the situation were irrelevant. He wasn’t going to be able to get to his mother until de Santis and his other sketchy cronies had been taken care of, and quite frankly nothing else mattered but that.

  Not Olivia and certainly not his own pussy-ass scruples.

  His father had taught him that the weaker feelings were vulnerabilities and that in order to be strong enough to complete his mission, he had to strip them all away.

  “You’re a sword, Wolf. You’re my sword. And there cannot be any imperfections in your blade, understand? I don’t want you to shatter at the first blow.”

  Yeah, and he wasn’t going to shatter. He would be flawless. He would do his father proud.

  Unfortunately though, it looked like getting the information he wanted from Olivia, without telling her the truth, was going to be difficult. And that left him with only two options. He threatened her, or he tried some other way of getting it out of her.

  Christ, he didn’t want to threaten her. He’d never been the kind of man who hurt women, but threatening them wasn’t much better. And she was supposed to be his goddamn friend.

  You fucking tool. Remember. The only easy day was yesterday.

  He scrubbed his hands over his face. This would have been easier if he’d done what his father had told him and not gotten attached to her. But then he’d always felt a little protective toward her. Ever since the day he’d first seen her in the library of her father’s house, small and wide-eyed. She had a book clutched to her chest and she’d stared at him as if she’d never seen anything like him in all her life. He’d thought she’d be afraid of him, since people tended to be.

  So when this little girl started babbling on about the book she was reading, totally not caring that her family’s enemy was standing in the same room. Talking to him and asking him what he thought as if his opinion was worth listening to, he hadn’t been able to help responding.

  Not many people knew it, but he liked reading, and myths were his favorite—and he didn’t get to talk about books with anyone at the Tate ranch.

  Things had snowballed from there. Every time he’d had a meeting with de Santis, Olivia would be in the library, so he’d often turn up early to talk with her. He liked that she didn’t seem to care who he was, and was quite happy to talk about whatever she was reading at the time. She was happy to talk about anything else too, especially anything that interested him.

  Early on, he’d decided not to talk about his own family with her, because he had too much to hide and Olivia was way too perceptive. So he’d asked her questions about hers instead, intrigued despite himself. It was clear the de Santis family were pretty fucked up, but he liked hearing about them all the same, because a part of him envied her them.

  Plus, listening to her was way easier than having to lie all the time about how Noah Tate was a violent asshole who beat his children and that Wolf had come to de Santis—Noah’s enemy—for help because he didn’t know who else to turn to.

  De Santis had lapped it up, and even though Wolf tried not to talk to Olivia much about it, it was clear she did too.

  When Noah had heard that Wolf had met Olivia, he’d told him to keep cultivating that relationship—in case it turned out to be useful. So cultivate it he had. But even so, he’d never been able to shake the feeling that lying to her was wrong. Strange that it had never bothered him with anyone else, only her.

  Wolf turned off the shower and wiped a hand across his face to get the water out of his eyes. He was reaching for a towel when there was a soft, timid knock.

  “Yeah?” He stepped out of the shower, giving himself a quick dry with the towel.

  “Um, it’s Olivia,” she said unnecessarily from the other side of the door. “I thought you should know that the hallway door is locked somehow. I can’t open it.”

  He’d wondered how
long that would take her to discover. He’d hacked the swipe card and lock with relative ease, making it so he could lock the door from the inside and unlock it only with a special code.

  “Gimme a minute,” he said. “I’ll check it when I get out.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait out here.”

  He slung the towel around his waist, extracted the burner phone from the pocket of his jeans, then backed over to the bathtub and sat down on the edge of it. He stared down at the screen, his mind turning over and over.

  There were too many things to think about, too many threads he had to tie up. He didn’t know what his two older brothers were up to, and after what had happened with Lucas a couple of days ago, they were going to be really, really pissed that he’d seemingly disappeared.

  He didn’t want to have to talk to them about anything, not given all he was hiding, but he had to make sure things were okay. He wasn’t as close to them as he’d once been—he couldn’t, and still be the weapon his father wanted him to be—but they were still his brothers.

  Two days earlier, he’d shot an arms dealer who had been going to kill the chick Lucas had been protecting, the widow of one of Lucas’s SEAL team buddies. It was a mission de Santis had given him, because de Santis hadn’t wanted anyone left alive to incriminate him with his sketchy arms deals. Wolf hadn’t had a problem with it—especially given the fact the asshole had been holding a gun to Grace’s head—and de Santis had told him he’d handle the fallout, but Wolf wouldn’t mind knowing whether Grace had recovered and how his brother was.

  Gritting his teeth, Wolf forced himself to key in Van’s number. Talking to his oldest brother was easier than talking to ice-cold Lucas, even though, as a SEAL commander, Van tended to be a bossy prick.

  He answered on the second ring, his deep voice full of suspicion. “Who the hell is this?”

  Of course. Burner phone. Van wouldn’t be able to recognize Wolf’s number.

  “It’s me,” Wolf said.