Big Bad Alpha: A Billionaire Romance

by Tia Siren

  There was no question in my mind that I wasn’t ready for this. It hadn’t even been four months since my graduation. I was twenty-four, living in a brand new house, working a brand new job and just learning how to be a grownup, I had no idea how to be a parent. That, however, was no excuse to be irresponsible and act as if I was just another woman my age. I had responsibilities and limitations most of them didn’t, and I had to start living accordingly, for both our sakes.

  Knowing that I couldn’t afford to keep my parents in the dark any longer, I made up my mind to tell my father about the pregnancy as soon as he arrived. In order for me to do that, however, Kellan had to go away. Under normal circumstances I was a terrible liar, I couldn’t even imagine how bad I’d be with the lie staring me right in the face.

  “Thank you for your advice, for bringing me to the hospital and for staying with me, but you have to go. Like you said, I’m on my own with this one, and I have to deal with it accordingly.”

  An indecipherable emotion settled into Kellan’s face as he stared back at me. He crossed his arms over his chest and used a very petulant tone when he spoke, “But if I leave, how will I know that you’ve told them and that you’re taking good care of yourself?”

  “You won’t. Which was the point, right?”

  He looked away from me and shook his head ever so slightly. “I knew you would say that which is why I am giving you the next few weeks off to relax and worry about what actually matters.”

  My eyes widened as I glared at Kellan. “You can’t do that! I need my job and the money.”

  He rolled his eyes as she typed something on his phone. “Your job isn’t going anywhere. As for the money, think of this break as a paid vacation.”

  The nonchalant way he said that made me even more pissed off than his actions. I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but before I could get a word in my father’s voice echoed from the hallway. I glanced from Kellan’s face to the opening door.

  “Pumpkin,” Dad said as he raced into the room with a bouquet of my favorite flowers in his hands and worry in his eyes. “I told you not to overwork yourself.”

  Tears welled in my eyes at the sight of my father. I blamed my emotional outburst on pregnancy hormones and anticipation, but I was aware that the real culprit was an irrational fear of how he would react to my news. Unwilling to break into a crying fit in front of Kellan I kept myself together and forced a smile at my father.

  “I’m sorry, dad,” was all I could manage to say as he hugged me. Once he had released me, he looked at Kellan and smiled. “Thank you for calling me and taking care of my girl, Kellan.”

  Kellan shook his head and said something. I didn’t pay attention to his words, though. I was too mesmerized by their interaction to focus on anything else.

  The last time I witnessed them around each other outside of a business environment, I was a teenager. At that point, my infatuation with Kellan had kept me from noticing that they interacted more like brothers than friends. However, now that I was older and with a more realistic view of the man who had fathered my unborn son, the depths of their relationship was blatantly clear to me and it put everything into perspective.

  As much as I couldn’t condone Kellan from turning his back on our unborn baby, I could see that revealing the truth to my father would forever change their relationship. Considering that Kellan had no family that I knew off, I could understand—if only barely—his refusal to claim his child.

  Kellan glanced over at me and then at my father. “Well, if she were my daughter, I would have wanted someone to call me as soon as possible.”

  His words made my heart ache, but I tried to keep my voice steady as I spoke. “Thank you again for calling my father, Kellan, but you really don’t have to stay.”

  I knew that the moment to inform my dad of my pregnancy was now, and I did not want Kellan present for such an intimate family moment. Regardless of how fondly my father regarded him, to me, he was the man who had chosen against being a part of my family and therefore didn’t deserved to experience the emotion that would unfold.

  With understanding in his eyes, Kellan nodded and turned to gather his things. It was evident, at least to me, that he was as ready to go as I was to have him gone. However, in an unfortunate turn of events, just as he was saying goodbye to my father, a nurse entered the room.

  She greeted the three of us with a bright, warm smile and looked down at the chart in her hands. “Your blood work came out clean, so it looks like you will be good to go once your IV bag is empty. However, the doctor asked me to give you this brochure and make sure you read it.” I looked at her with eyes filled with fear of the train wreck that was about to happen. Oblivious to my panic, she continued, “In this, you’ll find all kinds of information about prenatal care and the new demands of your body. I’m sure you’ve heard it all from your doctor already, but information is never enough. Right?”

  I nodded at her, but my eyes stayed focused on dad. Happy in his ignorance, he smiled at the woman and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I think you have the wrong room.”

  The nurse apologized and looked down at her chart with a mortified expression. Her brows pulled together as she looked back at me.

  I closed my eyes hoping I would just disappear. When I opened them again, I felt overwhelmed by the three pairs of eyes gazing intently at me. I focused only on my father’s. “She’s in the right room, dad.”

  “You’re telling me that you’re pregnant?” he asked in between laughs, sure that this was some sort of pre-Halloween prank.

  My eyes were filled with sorrow and shame as I continued to stare at him in silence. Slowly, as reality started to sink in, I watched as his face turned from normal to white before finally settling into a deep shade of red.

  The nurse excused herself and left my room, shooting me a look that was both apologetic and chastising. I ignored her and Kellan—who, for whatever reason, was still there— and kept staring at my father. “I swear I was going to tell you and mom. I just didn’t know how.”

  “You’re pregnant?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Unable to find the words to respond, I just nodded. Dad started pacing. “How long have you known?”

  I forced myself not to glance at Kellan as I stammered, “A-about three months now.”

  Momentarily, he stopped pacing and glanced at me with so much sadness and disappointment in his eyes I could barely bear. Then, he turned his eyes towards Kellan, silently asking the father of my unborn child to leave. Leaving me no room to question where his loyalties lied, Kellan nodded and walked out. Tears filled my eyes as, once more, I was hit with the realization of just how alone in this ordeal I actually was.

  Once my father and I were the only two people in the room, he turned to face me fully. I wasn’t sure if the heartbreak I saw in his eyes was his, mine or both of ours.

  “Who’s the father?” he asked in an unrecognizable weak tone.

  My heart pounded frantically as I replied, “Some guy at a party.”

  “You don’t even know who he is?” His eyes glistened with a raging fire.

  “Yes, I do,” I started, deciding that I should keep my lies as close to the truth as possible. Hopefully, by doing that they would suck less and pass as facts. “But he’s not important or in the picture. It was a one-night thing.”

  His pacing stopped again. My father’s gaze traveled around the room before they finally landed back on me. The disappointment in his eyes was so intense I could barely stand to look at him.

  “So that’s it?” he asked after a heavy sigh. “I send you off to the top school in the nation, shell out thousands of dollars, give you a house and job, and then, you come home knocked up and don’t even tell me about it?” He shook his head and, in the saddest voice ever, asked, “What happened to my little girl?”

  Tears fell freely from eyes. “She’s here, and very sorry, daddy.”

  “I bet you are and frankly, so am I. You had so much to look
forward to, Amelia. The world was at your feet and now . . .”

  He never finished the sentence, not that he needed to finish it. I knew exactly where he was going, and I agreed. I had compromised a good chunk of my future plans for a cheap lay with someone who couldn’t care less about me. I was stupid and pathetic, and it killed me that now my dad knew about it as well.

  Every inch of my body ached as I watched my beloved father gather his things and walk to the door. He didn’t turn to look at me or say goodbye, he just stood by the half-opened door and said, “I’ll let you be the one to tell your mother. Please, don’t wait another four months to do it. She deserves better than that.”

  With those hurtful words, he left me alone to cry my pain and sorrow away.

  Chapter Eight

  Kellen

  After leaving Amelia alone at the hospital to tell Alex about our baby, this strange feeling of guilt settled in my chest. I felt like the biggest coward alive and a carbon copy of my father, which was a terrible thought. However, plain and simple, I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Alexander and losing not only my one true friend but also my place in the company. I had learned at a young age that people had to look out for themselves first, and that was what I was doing.

  Though sound, that rationalization did absolutely nothing to appease the self-loathing I felt. And that’s where the Asian beauty beside me came in.

  Since that day, I had distracted myself from thoughts of Amelia with as many women as I could manage. Being as desperate for company and distraction as I was caused my standards fall significantly and instead of my usual “models only” policy, I was now bedding pretty much any woman who would smile at me. Some of them had been unfortunate looking, but this one wasn’t. In fact, she was one of the prettiest women our agency had signed in a long time.

  After a pleasant date, we were driving back to my place. Like most women, this one had babbled on and on about how unusual it was for her to go home with a guy on the first date. I was sure the speech was meant to make me feel special, but it just made me feel bored and allowed my mind to return to Amelia.

  Noticing my diminishing interest, the model whose name I had already forgotten, skimmed her long fingernails up my thigh, towards my crotch. Yeah, never does this my ass!

  My head rested against the seat, and I closed my eyes. As I did, I imagined Amelia’s hand pleasuring me. As lips came to kiss my neck, I imagined that they were Amelia’s. Picturing her made me more aroused than I imagined I could be after three whiskeys and, once the car finally came to a stop in front of my building, I was beyond ready to take this woman up to my bed and imagine I was fucking Amelia while I buried myself inside of her.

  Guiding the girl by the hand, I made my way into the building’s foyer and froze when I saw Amelia sitting on the plush Chesterfield couch. I blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t an alcohol induced hallucination. Once I was sure she was real, I released the model’s hand and raced towards her.

  Amelia’s eyes were red and puffy as she looked up at me. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and hold her until she felt better, but instead, I settled for sitting beside her and holding her hand.

  “I had a fight with my parents,” she said without me even having to ask. She stole a quick glance at the confused looking model standing a few feet away. Once her eyes focused back on me, her face looked pained. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin your night, I just didn’t know where else to go.”

  I rolled my eyes and looked at the Asian beauty glaring at me. Without leaving Amelia’s side, I said, “Thank you for the night, but this is important. Tell my driver where you want to go and he’ll see that you get there safe.”

  As my gaze returned to Amelia, I saw a glimmer of surprise shining in her gorgeous green eyes. I couldn’t blame her, I was also fairly surprised at my lack of hesitation in dismissing a beautiful girl. However, knowing that despite my appalling behavior Amelia had come to me for safety and comfort, felt ten times better than getting my dick wet with some nameless model.

  “Come on, I have some leftovers in my fridge,” I said and stood up. I offered my hand to help her up, and she took it without hesitation.

  As we walked towards the elevator, I noticed she was wearing only a light sweater, so I removed my jacket at draped it around her shoulders. She smiled at the gesture and closed the fabric a bit tighter around herself.

  “I really didn’t mean to ruin your date,” she in a quiet tone.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said with a smile. “You’re not ruining anything. Besides, this is the least I could do.”

  She raised an eyebrow at me, but no others words were shared as we entered my apartment. Normally, I was comfortable in silence, it provided a soothing peace to my chaotic life. Yet, with Amelia, I longed for the noise. She was a talkative person, and she would smile and laugh as if all was good in the world. She was a true breath of fresh air, and I had missed her more than I could admit.

  “What happened with your parents?” I asked as we entered my kitchen.

  I was expecting her response to be the usual, “it’s none of your business.” However, I was pleased—and shocked—when instead she sighed and offered a real explanation.

  “After I told my mom, things between her and dad got tense. You know how understanding and accepting mom is, and her support pissed dad off big time.” Amelia shook her head and took a deep breath as she continued, “They haven’t even spoken in days. And then today, I went over there for our weekly family dinner, and mom showed me some clothes she bought for my son and dad lost it. I’ve never heard him yell like that.”

  And there was that word again. Son.

  I looked down at her ever-growing stomach and smiled at the evidence of my son—or rather, her son. A new wave of self-loathing hit me as I grabbed a container from the fridge and shoved it inside the microwave. For some reason, Amelia showed up beside me and covered her hand with mine.

  My face turned to her. I blinked a few times, trying to understand what was happening and why I was enjoying it so much.

  “You can’t put the foil in the microwave.” She looked at me like I was crazy.

  I glanced at our joined hands and noticed that she was not really touching me; she was simply keeping the microwave door open. I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I got distracted,” I muttered as I reached inside to remove the foil off of the plate. Once it was balled up in my hand, Amelia smiled and closed the door. I typed the time and cleared my throat. “You were saying?”

  With a raised brow, she walked over to the island and sat on one of the stools. “I was saying that I didn’t want to be alone and since my best friend is in London and no one else knows the truth about you and the baby, you were my only option. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Trust me, you’re alright,” I muttered. “I’m not as shitty of a person as I might seem. You’re always welcome here, Amelia.”

  She grew silent at my words. I felt her eyes on me as I took her food out of the microwave and placed it in front of her. I sat beside her and watched as she ate. It was hard to explain, but I felt a need to make sure that she—and our son—were well fed and healthy. The fear and agony I had felt that day at the hospital was something I was determined to never feel again.

  “Can I ask you something?” Amelia hesitantly asked after two bites of risotto.

  I nodded and leaned against the counter. “Sure. I don’t see why not.”

  She took a long breath and looked down at her plate. “Why exactly don’t you want to be responsible for the baby?”

  I knew she had been silently wondering that for the past few months, but I wasn’t expecting her to actually ask me about it. Or maybe, I just hoped that she wouldn’t since I wasn’t comfortable talking about that subject.

  My family history and the reason why I was so against committing and having a family of my own, was something I had never discussed with anyone. Most people assumed that I wasn’t ready to grow up, which was partial
ly correct. However, it wasn’t the whole truth.

  For a moment, I debated whether or not I should answer her. Then, I realized that in spite of my personal feelings, Amelia deserved some answers. I just wasn’t sure I was ready to give them to her.

  “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” she said after a few long minutes of silence. “I’m just curious.”

  I straightened my back and shook my head. “I just . . . I just don’t know how to talk about it,” I explained, “I’ve never talked about it with anyone. It’s something I rather keep locked back in the past, you know?”

  Amelia tilted her head. “And you think that’s healthy?”

  “Of course it’s not healthy,” I said with a chuckle. “But alcohol, money and sex make excellent therapists.”

  She looked like she was half-amused and half-sympathetic. “Weird, I though they were only great at momentarily covering those metaphorical holes in people’s hearts.”

  With me being used to talking to air-headed models, I was used to only having shallow and pointless conversations with the opposite sex. For that reason, her insight and sharp wit felt refreshing and incredibly alluring. I couldn’t help the smirk that formed on my face.

  “As a matter of fact, they do. They’re also amazing escapes from reality and responsibility.” Amelia laughed at my words. It was a sound I thoroughly enjoyed and hoped to hear more often. Once her laughs died, I asked, “Do you really want to know?”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “Fine, but I’m not talking about this sober.” I sighed and stood up from the stool.

  Amelia continued to eat as I walked over to the little bar I kept in the living room and poured myself a hefty glass of scotch. She watched me as I returned to the kitchen and took my seat.

  “My dad was almost forty when he married my mom. She was nineteen,” I started after a gulp of the amber liquid. Amelia sat quietly, eating my words up with as much gusto as she ate the risotto. “I don’t remember them actually acting like they were in love. It was more like he paid the bills, and she did whatever he told her to do.” I scoffed and looked out of the kitchen window as I added, “They did have two children, so I guess they must have had some good times. I just never understood how she could possibly want anything to do with him.”