Submitting to the Billionaire(54)

"I figured that you were probably pretty happy with everything the way  it was," she says sadly. "I didn't want to put a spanner in the works  for you. You were rich and handsome and so successful. You had love, you  had everything. You didn't need me. But when I got sick I couldn't let  it be. You were my son. You were unfinished business. All these years I  have grieved silently for you. I couldn't go to my grave without just  once seeing and talking to you."

Her voice wavers and cracks for a second, and she has to take a deep breath before she can continue.

"I knew my soul wouldn't be at peace if I didn't have some sort of  closure. Even if you had refused to come that would have been a closure  of sorts too," she finishes. "Anyway, you deserve to know the truth. I  wasn't doing you any favors by letting you continue to believe a lie  about your own ancestry."

"I..." I can't get the words out. What am I supposed to say? That I  believe her, even though I have no good reason to except for a  photograph taken in my grandfather's drawing room? It was hardly  evidence. Sure, she worked for my grandmother. So what? The color of my  eyes is not in any way conclusive proof either.

I just want to walk out of here right now because I don't want to deal  with this heavy shit, but at the same time, I feel bad for her. I want  to stay and convince her that somehow everything is going to be all  right?

"What happened then?" I ask. "How did you end up here?"

"I married Reese's father," She smiles fondly. "After he divorced his first wife."

"Right."

She gazes at me for another moment, then reaches out to pat my hand gently.

"I'm so proud of you and everything you've achieved," she murmurs. "I  just wanted to tell you that. You don't know how happy you've made me.  I've watched every game you've played. Whenever you lost my heart ached  for you, and whenever you won I felt drunk with happiness. You are my  son, Drake Kelly. My son."

"I, I … "

Her eyes drift shut, and for a second I have the horrible sensation  she's dropped dead on me. I reach forward to hold my hand over her mouth  and find that she has gone to sleep. I look around me at the poor  surroundings, then at her sleeping face. There is no firm evidence, no  DNA test, but in my heart, I know. This woman is my mother! Everything I  believed has been smashed in this bedroom.

I get to my feet, and the ground feels like its swaying beneath me. Slowly, I head down the stairs.         

     



 





Chapter Eight





Reese





I'm wearing out the carpet in the living room pacing back and forth when  Drake re-emerges. I can't take my eyes off him. The look on his face is  unlike anything I've seen on anybody before. He is so livid his eyes  are practically shooting sparks. His mouth is clamped tightly with  steely determination, and there's a white ring around his mouth. Uh oh,  something big is about to go down. What did we expect, though, when we  invited someone as hot-headed as Drake to find out that he's been lied  to his entire life?

"Do you have a car?" he asks through clenched teeth.

I look at him blankly for a second. A car? Then I nod quickly. "Yes."

He marches over to me, grabs my hand, and starts dragging me along with him.

"What are you doing?" I protest, even though a part of me loves the feeling of his hot flesh against mine again.

"Come on. I need your help."

"To do what?" I ask.

"To take me to my father."

I feel a cold sensation rush up and down my body.

"I need to go over there now," he says heading for the door.

I glance in the direction of the kitchen and Dad catches my eye. He's  obviously heard everything Drake has said. I shrug and pull a  don't-ask-me I-don't-know expression as I rush by.

"Wait, wait," I cry to Drake as we get to the hallway. Fumbling in the  dish on the sideboard, I fish out my car keys. Out on the driveway, he  lets go of my hand and I head over to the driver's side. I unlock the  door and slip inside.

"Where does your Dad stay?" I ask as he climbs into the passenger side. I  rest my hands on the wheel and turn to face him. In the close confines  of the car I see that he is actually shaking with rage. What did Morgan  say to him up there? Was there more than what she has admitted to me?  Whatever it is, it's enough to push him to this frenzy of anger. One  thing for sure his Dad's in for a bad time.

"Across town, Eagleswood Park area," he orders. "Just go in that direction and I'll tell you when we're close."

"Okay," I say and start the car up.

He rolls down the window and hooks his elbow over the edge, even though  it freezing cold. I can't help glancing at him as I drive. He makes such  a handsome sight. The wind rushes into his dark hair and ruffles it,  making it even more sexy and adorable. His sensuous lips move slightly  as if he's planning quietly what he's going to say to his father.

Would the woman who raised him be there too? I wonder how much she  knows. Maybe, she's an innocent party too. They could have presented the  baby as a genuine adoption case to her. Morgan has always refused to  give me any details, but I guess I'm going to hear it directly from the  horse's mouth.

"Take a left here, and go down the driveway at the end of the street," Drake directs.

I do as he asks, and pull up at a gated mansion. Drake cranks his neck  out of the window and waves at a security camera. After a few seconds,  the electric gates open smoothly. We travel down a short driveway until  we get to a large house. So, this is where he grew up.

The house has exposed red bricks, white trim and polished wooden doors  with brass handles. It is replete with immaculate lawns and perfectly  trimmed topiary. The whole place seems almost to glow in the setting  evening sunlight.

We climb out of the car and Drake grasps my hand and strides up to the  front door. He is walking so fast I need to trot to keep up. I want to  tell him to slow down and give this a moment's thought before he goes  bursting in there, but I know it's useless. He's made his mind up, and  there's nothing I or anyone else can do to dissuade him from whatever  course of action he has decided on. He raps on the door.

A few seconds later, the door is opened by a man who smiles broadly at  Drake. He looks a little like Drake. Both have the same crinkles around  the edges of their eyes when they smile, though the man's grin is  quickly wiped off from his face when he takes in Drake's expression.  Drake elbows his way past him and walks into the house, dragging me  along behind him.

Drake lets go of my hand, and I edge a little away from the  confrontation between the father and son. Yes, I want to hear the truth,  but getting dumped in the middle of someone else's family drama wasn't  exactly my idea of a fun evening.

"Son?" His father stares at him. "What's …  what are you doing here?"

Drake rounds on him in the vast hallway. "I need to ask you something, and I don't want you to bullshit me,"

"What are you talking about?" His father straightens his back and pulls himself up to his full height.         

     



 

"I went to see a woman named Morgan today," Drake announces, eyeing his  father carefully for a reaction, and God, did he get it. It was as  though all the blood in his face drained away all at once, his skin  paling into a sickly white as the words get processed in his brain. He  stares at Drake and then glances over in my direction.

"Who the hell is she?" he demands arrogantly.

"Morgan's stepdaughter. She drove me here," Drake takes a step towards  his father. "Keep on the subject. I'm not letting you squirm out of this  one that easily."

Father and son eyeball each other for a few tense seconds. The air  becomes so tense I dare not even breathe as each challenge the other to  back down. It's Drake's father who crumbles first. He looks down at the  floor and briefly closes his eyes. He knows: he's been found out.

This whole thing is true.

I feel that wild surge of joy at being vindicated. For not only myself  but for Morgan too. After all this time of letting her pain eat away at  her soul, the big secret that no one could ever believe is finally  unraveling, and her truth is spilling out.

"How did you find her?" his father asks.

"No, you answer my questions first," Drake grates. "Is what she said true? Am I her son?"

For a while, his father says nothing. Then his shoulders sag. "Yes," he  admits, and it is as though the entire room freezes, even the birds  singing their late-afternoon chorus outside seem to come to a halt as  the words hang in the air between the three of us.

"Why did you make her give me up?" he asks, his voice softer now, as  though he'd expected it to be harder to wring a confession from his  father. I certainly had.

"Because she wasn't … " He trails off.

"Wasn't what?" Drake growls.