The Tycoon's Secret
Page 25

Instead of anger, he gave a sheepish smile. The almost unguarded expression on his face sent her heart into overdrive. Wow, he was stunning when he didn’t look so angry.
“Actually, Trinity is my best friend and she’d have my hide if she knew anything about this. She’s amazing.”
Sierra felt the tiniest twinge of jealousy, but then she remembered that Trinity was a happily married woman. Her husband was incredibly gorgeous, too, and seemed like a nice guy. Sierra had been far too nervous on their short visit to really pay much attention, but the little she’d seen of the couple, had made it seem they were in love.
“Trinity seems like a smart woman,” she said after a long pause.
“She is.”
“Are you done stalling? Why do you hate the Anderson’s?”
“It goes back to before I was born. My father was twenty-five years older than my mom. I know, it’s a lot of years, and I wouldn’t even think about dating a woman half my age, but they fell in love, according to my mom. He pursued her, and she fell hard for him. He was charming, wealthy, and promised her the moon. About the time they met, my grandfather passed away and there was a huge race for the company. It should’ve gone to my dad. His brother, Milton had zero interest in the corporation, and my dad had been working there for years,” Damien started.
Sierra was fascinated by the intense look on his face. She still didn’t understand what any of this had to do with the Anderson’s, though.
“Joseph and George are twins, the only sons of Milton, my father’s nephews. When my grandfather died, they both rushed home to get their greedy hands on what my father had worked so hard for. The board of directors chose Joseph to run the corporation and my father was left with nothing. His own dad didn’t leave him a dime in the will. The corporation was all he had. The old man left what he had to charity’s, saying the boys needed to build their own wealth, that they’d appreciate it better in the long run. Well, Milton didn’t have to build his own wealth. He had a nice little ranch that his father bankrolled for him, while my father had nothing, because he’d been sure he’d take over the Anderson Corporation.”
Damien’s eyes narrowed as he told a story Sierra was sure he’d heard a thousand times. Sierra knew there was no way it could be true. Even a young Joseph couldn’t be monster. There had to be more to the story and she was determined to find out what it was.
“Were you able to verify if all of this is true?” she asked, afraid of his reaction, but still having to ask it.
“Of course I verified. I found the old newspaper articles. There was a fight for the CEO position. In the earlier papers, apparently Joseph was playing it cool, because they said he didn’t seem interested in taking over his grandfather’s reign. Apparently, he’d already amassed a huge fortune. However, greedy people always want more, and Joseph was no exception.”
“How do you know it was about greed? What if he wanted to run the business his grandfather put so many years into?”
“If that was the case, why did he leave in the first place? Why wouldn’t he have stayed and learned how to run the business like my father had?” Damien asked with bitterness.
“Don’t you think the best way to get answers to those questions is to ask Joseph?”
“Why? So he can tell me lies? The story doesn’t end there. My father was so upset about his losses that he quickly went downhill, started drinking himself to death. One night he drank too much and lost control of his car. He was dead before the paramedics arrived.”
“Oh, Damien, I’m so sorry,” she said, sincere sadness draping her words.
“I was only a few months old at the time, and later my mother found out she was pregnant with my sister. She went to the Anderson’s for help. Even though begging from anyone was against everything she believed in, she did it for my sake – mine and my sister’s. She showed up at their door, and they laughed at her, told her they didn’t believe her story, that they were glad my father was dead, and then they shut it in her face. She had to leave my sister in the hospital’s care, and my mother lived a rough life from that moment on,” he said, pain evident for the mother he’d lost at too young of an age.
Sierra could relate to how he felt. She missed her mom every day. She always imagined how differently her life would’ve turned out had her mom been there. She may have actually been a normal child. She’d never believe the things her father said about her. She hoped her mother was far happier wherever she was, and the only thing that kept Sierra from falling apart was knowing she’d someday see her again.
Sierra set down her empty glass of wine, surprised she drank the entire amount. It really had been good. She then wrapped her arms around Damien, not able to give him the cold shoulder when he was obviously fighting such a ferocious internal battle.
“I’m fine,” he said, not letting his walls down, but he didn’t push her away. She took that as a good sign.
“What do you plan to do?” This time he didn’t try and pretend he didn’t know what she was taking about.
“I’ve already started. The Anderson’s have a lot of different divisions to their vast empire. I’ve been working for years to take away the one thing that matters to them – their income. They have several shipping yards throughout the world, so I’m building my own shipping company. I’ll supply the same products at a lower cost, taking away their business. If they have a mall in a city, I’ll build a larger, better one with lower rents. Every market they’re invested in, I’ll come behind and undercut them. In the process, it will most likely break me, too, but I don’t care. I’ve lived with nothing before, and I can live that way again.”
“I think you’re making a mistake. I know them, Damien. They aren’t anything like my father. They’re good people. If you’d just talk to them –”
“No! You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he interrupted.
Sierra didn’t know what else to say. Her heart was broken at his internal turmoil and she felt like she was being torn in half between him and her loyalties to Bree and the Anderson’s. She knew without a doubt that she was falling for him, and she also knew they had no chance of a future together. He was too angry, too set on revenge, and the people he wanted to hurt were the people she loved most in the world.
With a lump in her throat, Sierra lay back down. She didn’t feel like fighting with him anymore that night. She knew if she tried to get up, he’d just drag her back. Hopefully, if she just turned over and went to sleep, he’d leave her alone, let her have time to think.
She was grateful when the light went out and she felt him shift behind her. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her tightly against his body.
“I have to do this,” he said, almost a plea in his voice.
“No, Damien, you don’t. What you should do is learn the truth,” she said, her own voice sounding defeated.
It seemed she was destined to go from one battle zone to the next. Sierra was grateful when she felt herself beginning to drift to sleep. She’d start fresh the next day.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sierra watched Damien walk into the room and her mouth literally fell open. He was beyond simply stunning, he was one-hundred-percent mouthwatering in his custom made tux which fit him to perfection.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the man as he stopped and chatted with various people as he made his way across the large ballroom floor.
They were at a fundraiser for the Red Cross, raising funds to help the military troops during the upcoming season. On one hand she was thrilled to be there, loving fundraisers, and how much money could be raised in a single night. The money that meant little to nothing to the wealthy donors, fed soldiers, supplied their families while they were away, and for the unfortunate many, buried them properly.
A sense of dread filled her, though, because she knew her father would be in attendance. She hadn’t wanted to come alone, but Damien had been called away at the last minute to one of his local factories, so he’d sent her ahead.
She smiled when she thought about the day before. She didn’t know how it had happened, but she’d been living with him for about a month, ever since that first night in his home. He’d changed. He hadn’t brought up his vendetta against the Anderson’s. The way he spoke to her, the many simple things he did, like bringing her flowers when they were apart and always opening doors for her, was securing him tightly into her heart.
As she gazed at him, she knew she was in love – hopelessly, infectiously in love with him. She could tell he was starting to feel the same way about her. She did her job each day and then made love to him each night.
For the past month, Damien had put Sierra to work. Literally. She’d complained he wasn’t giving her a job – well, now she was almost as busy as him. She was more than pleased when she discovered she was actually quite good at being his P.R. Rep.
She handled clients, organized meetings, and typed endless amounts of letters. One thing she discovered about Damien was that he was generous to a fault. He donated far more than what would look good for him on taxes. He personally handled most of the donations, never refusing anyone who called.
Some of the clients received smaller donations, one or two thousand dollars. Some of the amounts he gave were staggering, in the seven figure range. She found the man she’d met who’d been seeking revenge, and the man she was falling in love with were two completely different people.
They’d traveled a few more times to various places, none as far away as Australia, but still beautiful locations. He had a stunning vineyard in California. She didn’t understand why he chose to live in Seattle when he could live in Napa Valley, where it was warmer, gorgeous, and he already had a home waiting for him on the edge of his ten-thousand acre estate.
She’d enjoyed their three night stay there, strolling through the rows of grapes, talking with the workers, and drinking too much wine.
She’d found she was quite limber when she had a couple of glasses of wine in her. Damien had seemed to enjoy that immensely. Her smile grew at the fond memory.
“Don’t you look mighty happy.”
Sierra froze at the all too familiar sarcastic voice of her father. She’d been so focused on Damien, she hadn’t even noticed the man who’d terrorized her nearly her entire life, approaching. She concentrated on putting on her mask before turning to him.
“Hello, Father,” she said formally.
“I’m surprised you remember who I am since I haven’t heard from you once. I’ve tried getting in contact but your old number is turned off and Damien’s security is tighter than mine. Come with me,” he commanded as he tightly gripped her arm and dragged her through one of the many terrace doors to a dimly lit patio. He moved to the edge, ensuring more privacy.
The evening was almost bitterly cold, with a light drizzle filling the air. The small area had a roof but it didn’t offer much protection. Sierra could tell her father felt the place allowed him privacy, as no one else would be foolish enough to venture to one of the balconies without a heater.