Tied to His Betrayal

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Tied to His Betrayal Page 4

by Stacey Kennedy


  “She is distant family to us,” my father snaps, cheeks becoming redder. “The press will dig up anything on your past to make a story of it. Is that what you want? To go from Harvard to the cover of the tabloids?”

  “Of course not,” I reply, leaning against the windowsill. “But fuck if she’ll go into foster care. What if the tabloids get ahold of that; either way nothing good can come of it.”

  “Then find someplace else for her to live.” My father straightens in his seat, his knuckles white against the armrest.

  “I’ll let you know what I decide.”

  “You don’t need to decide. I can go.”

  I turn toward the soft voice coming from the doorway, noticing that Allie has been standing there all along, overhearing our conversation. I can tell by the way she’s shaking, the fear and uncertainty in her eyes, she heard the whole thing.

  Looking into her innocent eyes I realize I’m drawn to this girl. Is it knowing that she’s blood, family? I don’t know, but somehow when she looks at me, I realize I can’t turn her away. “No, don’t move.” I turn to my father, seeing the anger burn across his face. “She’s staying with me.”

  My father jumps to his feet, spittle spewing as he yells at me. “I won’t have it, Darius.” His voice booms in anger within my large office, fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t want this disgusting girl in my house or my life.”

  I see her flinch and bow her head—afraid and unsure why she deserves this censure and rejection.

  My father is an imposing man, especially if you’re a fifteen-year-old girl. But now I see all I need to and understand why my father hates her. The way his voice goes cold makes me realize why he refuses to acknowledge Allison. She reminds him of the woman who left him. She looks identical to our mother in the photos I’ve seen. I’m not sure if that’s what stirs my protective edge, or if it’s the fear in her eyes. But I know I’m all she has, and I will take care of her. “That’s the last time I’ll allow you to talk to Allison in that way.” I point toward the doorway. “Get out.”

  “You can’t ever go back,” my father sneers at me as he walks toward the door. “If I leave now, you are picking her over me. I won’t forget that.”

  “I hope you don’t.” I’m shaking now, equally angry and proud that I’m doing the right thing.

  My father turns and practically lunges at Allie. “Your fucking mother ruined his childhood, and now you’ve ruined his future.”

  I see the way Allie recoils from his childish and hateful words, and I’m nearly ready to attack my father as he exits my office. But now I question why I did what I just did. I’m in shock, too. What the hell do I know about raising a fifteen-year-old girl, I’m only twenty-five myself. I move to the door and shut it, inhaling to control the emotion raging within me.

  My life has been planned since childhood. I’d always known I’d attend boarding school and rarely see my father. I’d always known I’d be expected to go into business. I’d always known I’d go to Harvard. And I’d always known I’d work for my father.

  This? A younger sister I just committed to taking care of? I have no idea what to do.

  I hear Allie’s soft cry behind me. I turn around and stare at a very uncertain future as I look upon this sweet girl standing just inside my office.

  “Why did you want to do this for me?” she whispers, tears streaming down her face.

  “Because you needed me to.”

  I snap back to the present as my father shuts the door behind him and steps farther into my office, finally taking the seat where Greg had just been. I don’t even recognize this man in front of me. The past years have been hard on him. Harsh lines surround his black eyes and mouth. He’s thinner than I remember him being, maybe even a little frailer.

  He crosses one ankle over his knee, watching me carefully before he scans my office with pride. “You’ve done well for yourself, son.”

  With no help from you sits on my tongue. Instead I ask, “What do you want?”

  Arrogance appears in his eyes, and I know he believes he had some hand in my success. But I disagree with him. He always seemed like more of a business partner than a father, even when I was growing up. Teachers at my boarding school were the ones who raised me, and the only time I saw my father was when I was summoned or when he was obligated to visit the school.

  “Recently,” he explains, “I was contacted by Hoyes Financial. They’re looking to expand their private bank across North America, but they need investors. I thought you might be interested.”

  I can’t move, sitting statue-still in my seat, afraid if I do, I might lunge at the man sitting across from me. Even ten years later, my father has not changed. “What makes you believe that I would be interested in this venture with you?”

  He smiles, glancing around my office. “Because seeing this place makes me well aware that you’re a product of your father.”

  I remember that smile. It’s a cold thing to behold. “Meaning?”

  “You’ll invest because it’s a slam-dunk business decision.” My father hands me a file folder. “And once you review that file, you’ll see that I’m right.”

  I open the file, seeing too many documents to read now to make a decision. “You’ve never come to me wanting to do business before.” I tap my fingers against the folder, arching my brow. “What makes this deal so enticing that you’re coming to me now?”

  My father’s hard stare hardens further. “The investment is three-quarters of a million dollars. I cannot invest that on my own.”

  “Ah, I see, that’s why you’re here,” I state with a snort, leaning back in my chair, stretching out my legs beneath my desk. “You don’t have enough money, so you’re looking to me to help you.”

  “I’m not asking for your help,” my father corrects harshly. “But you have the money, and the decision to invest is a good move.”

  On one hand, I can only stare at him, dumbfounded by the audacity of this man. On the other hand, I knew the day my name had been printed in Forbes Magazine, my father would use our connection to increase his wealth. I know that because that’s exactly what I would do, too. A businessman keeps emotion out of business, and this is good business.

  “So, you want my money?” I want that to be clear.

  “I want your business because it will further mine.” He rises from his seat and moves to the door. “And Darius?” When he reaches the door, he turns back to me. “I’m handing you a lucrative deal with a pretty red bow. You have until next Tuesday to accept before I take my generosity elsewhere.”

  Taylor

  In the early afternoon, I reach into my suitcase and pull out a pair of my jeans, placing them in the empty dresser drawer. “You didn’t need to take the day off,” I call out to Allie. “Aren’t there houses to sell and money to be made?”

  “There are always houses to sell,” she replies, entering the bedroom with new sheets in her hands. “But Liv”—Allie’s assistant and good friend—“handled the showing I had lined up this morning so that I could help you get settled in.”

  Guilt tightens my throat, and I barely manage, “You don’t need to help me settle in.”

  Allie snorts, moving past me to the other side of the bed. “I think last night proves enough you need a good kick in the ass.” She drops the sheets onto the end table, giving me a look. “When I said you could stay here, I didn’t mean that you had to sleep on the couch. The condo is yours for as long as you need it.” She flicks out the fitted sheet over the queen-sized mattress.

  I grab the opposite end and tuck a corner under the mattress. “But it’s really expensive here. I can’t…”

  “Oh, my God, Taylor, would you just stop it?” Allie tucks the other corner under the mattress until the sheet pulls tight. “I know you need a little help right now, and that’s all right.” She grabs the top sheet and then flicks it out over the bed, continuing to frown at me. “And you know that I don’t need the money, so don’t even think about that, okay?”<
br />
  Well, no, she doesn’t. Not only has Darius given her a very nice trust fund, which I know she actually never touched because she likes making her own way, but now she’s dating a billionaire, who I imagine spoils her rotten.

  The only thing I have right now is debt up to my eyeballs.

  “Okay,” I say, even though my stomach roils. I’ve never needed anyone’s help. I’ve always been that kid—the one who made her parents proud, the one who worked hard and had a job since she was in her teens. But with a big outstanding loan and my credit card debt racked up high from my last relationship, I know there isn’t a hope in hell I could pay for my portion of rent so she could cover the mortgage. “I won’t be here long. Promise. Just until I’m back on my feet.”

  Allie smooths out the top sheet and then slides the duvet onto the bed. “I haven’t even decided what to do with the condo yet anyway, so there’s no rush.”

  I reach for the duvet, helping her settle it in place. “I figured after moving in with Micah you would sell it?”

  She grabs the pillow and puts the case on, half shrugging. “I’m thinking I should maybe wait until I know for sure that Micah and I mesh well living together before I do anything that official.”

  “Probably a smart idea.” Their relationship hasn’t exactly been an easy road, but I’ve also never seen Allie’s eyes twinkle like they do when Micah is around. They love each other hard. But more than anyone, I know that sometimes love just isn’t enough.

  Once the bed is made, I turn to my bag again and grab my T-shirts to put away, when Allie asks, “Has Shawn called yet?”

  “A few times, but I haven’t answered and then the phone calls stopped.” I place the T-shirts in the drawer. “I’m guessing he probably won’t call again either, which is for the best. The last thing I need is Mom and Dad finding out about this.”

  “You know, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Allie drops down onto the bed, the mattress squeaking beneath her. “You stood up for yourself, kicked him where he should’ve been kicked, and then left. You should be proud of that.”

  I stay focused on unpacking, not wanting to look into Allie’s eyes. There are things Allie doesn’t really understand about me. She hadn’t lived my life with my perfect parents, who never did anything wrong. And to this day, I still don’t want to disappoint them. “I am proud of myself, but I’d really rather keep them out of this.” I also don’t want them to know how many failures I’ve had, and that no matter how many times I try to get it right, I keep getting it wrong.

  That doesn’t make me proud at all.

  Obviously picking up on my discomfort, Allie hastily changes the subject. “So, tell me, what’s it like seeing Darius again? It’s been, what…?”

  “Five years,” I reply without a hitch.

  When Allie’s eyebrows rise, I’m not surprised. I probably shouldn’t know exactly how long Darius and I have been apart. “And to answer your question, it’s weird seeing him again. He’s like my best friend. Like, even though I haven’t seen him in so long, it seems as if little time has passed and I feel like I’m nineteen all over again. And yet…”

  She smiles, twirling her hair around her fingers. “He’s more than a best friend, and so much has happened in these last five years.”

  “Yeah, exactly.” I sigh, placing my undergarments in the top drawer before shutting it tight. We don’t talk details about Darius because he is her brother, but we’ve always talked about me in the relationship and that’s always worked for us. “To be honest, I need a little me time, so I think it’s probably best if I limit Darius time for right now.” Because Darius confuses me. He’s too safe, too strong, and too comfortable. I gotta find my own strength now, not lean on his.

  “I’m sure Darius respects that and will keep his distance,” Allie says softly. “I think out of anyone, he knows that you don’t really want to be around him.”

  But I want to be around him, and that’s the hard part. Not that I don’t love my time with Allie, but I want him to be here with me now, holding me, telling me everything is going to be okay. There’s not been a day I haven’t thought of him, wanted him, physically ached for him. Which is exactly why I need to stay away. I don’t trust myself around Darius. And I don’t want to return to the same circle where I forget why we aren’t good together.

  On the surface, Darius is the perfect guy, the most incredible lover, and beyond addictive. But it’s beneath the surface where things get messy.

  I keep those thoughts to myself when Allie adds, “I gotta say, though, when you first arrived at my door, I’ve never seen Darius like that. God, I thought he was going to go and kill Shawn.”

  I shrug. “He’s worried about me.”

  Allie nods, studying me intently. “But it’s just, you know, clearly he still cares about you.”

  “Him caring about me isn’t the problem.”

  “Darius is the problem?” Allie offers.

  I agree with a nod, not needing to say anything more. Allie knows her half-brother. He loves from a distance. And that love also has conditions. Get close, but not too close. Give me your heart, but don’t ask for mine.

  With him, I feel bare, exposed.

  Darius is the only man who can take me so high and bring me so low. I’d give him anything and do anything for him. I would hang on his every word. When we dated before, I jumped in excitement whenever he called, and I waited around when he didn’t. It hadn’t been healthy. And once I realized that, I did what Darius told me to do. I ran away and though I tried, I could not never look back.

  “Okay, enough about this depressing shit.” I wave Allie out of the bedroom. “I’ll get the wine. You grab the laptop and help me look for a job.”

  I quickly pad into the open-plan kitchen, when Allie calls from the living room, “You know, you could come and work at Holt. I’m sure Micah would give you a job.”

  I take out two wineglasses from the cupboard, grab the Chardonnay from the fridge, and fill the glasses to the rim. “I’m sure he would too, but I could never accept.”

  Across the room, Allie drops down onto the couch and crosses her legs, laptop on her lap. “Because you want to do this by yourself?”

  “I need to do this for myself.” I return the wine to the fridge, grab the glasses off the counter, and move into the living room, offering her a glass of wine. Hell, I need to do a lot of things—find a job, pay my debt down, get my own apartment. “Men only get me into trouble, so to be honest, right now, I don’t want to do anything that involves a man, including getting a job from your man.”

  “Totally understandable.” She smiles, opening her laptop and beginning to type. “But don’t be too hard on yourself. I think you just gravitate to all the broken ones because the helper in you wants to fix them, that’s all.” She finally stops typing and lifts her head to me. “So, what’s the plan for a job? Are you going back into human resources?”

  I breathe a sigh of relief and take my seat next to her, glad we don’t have to talk about why I suck at love. “Isn’t going back into human resources a given?”

  “Nope.” She takes a sip of her wine and then places the glass on the coffee table. “This is your fresh start. You can do anything you want to do. That’s the exciting part about coming home without anything tying you down.”

  I pause, considering that, then smile. This is what I love about Allie most. She sees life in such a bright way, with so many possibilities. Maybe because she’s reinvented herself before, she makes dreams seem easy to achieve. “You’re right, I could do anything, really, couldn’t I?”

  “Yep.” She begins typing on her laptop. “Who knows, maybe you’ll find something different or maybe you’ll find your dream HR job—” Her cellphone begins to ring and she hands me the laptop before grabbing the phone off the coffee table, looking at the screen. “Oh, it’s Micah.” Her eyes light up as she lifts the phone to her ear, like they always do whenever Micah is involved. “Missing me already?”

  I tak
e a big, long sip of my wine, tasting the oaky hints, watching her smile slowly fade.

  Her eyes zero in on me, concern in their depths. “Is the story bad?” A pause. Then, “Okay, okay…yeah…okay…’bye.” She ends the call, still staring at me, wide-eyed.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, breaking the awkward silence.

  “So, listen…” Her voice is carefully controlled, and years of friendship have taught me she brings out that voice only when something is very, very wrong.

  “Okay, I’m listening,” I say hesitantly.

  She takes her laptop back and her fingers fly over the keyboard before she’s giving me a look I’ve seen before, one full of pity…for me. “Now, I want you to know that everything is fine and I don’t doubt that Darius will handle this, so don’t freak, okay?”

  My pulse kicks up, palms grow sweaty. “Freak out about what?” I can’t imagine my life getting worse than it is right now.

  She spins the laptop screen to face me, and as my blood runs ice-cold at the article in the tabloid magazine Gotcha!, I realize it certainly can.

  They looked very much in love. Longtime bachelor and hunky billionaire Darius Bennett packs on the PDA with a mystery honey-blond-hottie last night. And we’ve got the pictures of the lovebirds to prove it!

  Chapter 4

  Darius

  One day. That’s all it took for my life to somehow negatively affect Taylor’s. I heave a long sigh as that thought sweeps through my mind, and I swiftly exit the elevator, my shoes clicking against the marble floor in the hallway of Allie’s condo. Originally, the plan tonight was to hit the gym and then catch up on the game. Now I need to deal with the repercussions of Gotcha!’s article.

  With each step I take, I’m reminded that it’s been a while since I’ve had the paparazzi so hot on my heels, following me into my private moments. I should have been more aware. I should have protected Taylor better. I should’ve done a lot of things.

 

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