The Tycoon’s Secret(44)

“How may I help you?” a voice asked over the speaker.

“Damien Whitfield. I’m here to see Sierra.” He didn’t elaborate.

“One moment, Sir.”

Less than a minute passed before the gates started opening. To Damien’s surprise, he found his hand slightly shaking as he placed the vehicle into drive. He glared at the offending fingers, clenching them once – inserting his will over his body. When he opened his fist, the fingers were steady.

With a satisfied look in his eye he began his journey down the long winding driveway. Nerves tried to eat away at him as reality set in that he’d be standing next to one of his blood relative, and have to act polite, as if he didn’t give a hoot who she was.

His pre-occupation with seeing Sierra helped control his emotions toward his so called family.

He pulled up to the house and stepped from the car when several large men filed through the doorway. Damien had to smile as they lined themselves up on the enormous porch. He was sure to most people the sight would be intimidating. Damien only looked on in anticipation. He could use a good brawl to work out some of his aggression.

He cursed himself for continuing with his vendetta against the Anderson’s. Becoming a multi-billionaire on his own, without their help, should’ve been good enough to satisfy his mother’s wishes… but it wasn’t.

She’d made him promise to make them pay. He just had to remember they’d killed both his parents. They may not have done it with their own two hands, but they’d done it by their greed and selfishness.

“Afternoon,” one of the men said as Damien walked with confidence up the stone stairs.

“Hello. What’s with the welcoming committee?” Damien asked, noting the surprised look on the man’s face before he managed to mask his expression. It looked like the muscle-bound gorillas hadn’t expected him to be so forward.

“Just coming out to say, hi,” the man said as he took another step in Damien’s direction, making sure to show him he wasn’t intimidated in the least. Of course, he’s not intimidated, he’s surrounded by his body-builder friends, Damien thought snidely.

“I’m looking for Sierra,” he said as he sized up each man.

“Why don’t we chat first? I’m Chad Redington and this is my place. These are my brothers-in-law and various family members,” Chad said, not moving an inch. Damien tensed. He didn’t like being blocked.

“I’m Damien Whitfield, as you already know. Now that introductions are over with, maybe I can see my employee.” Damien didn’t need to know who the men were. He recognized them from the research he’d done for years on the Anderson men, but he was silent as Chad continued.

“Introductions have just begun, Mr. Whitfield. You haven’t been formally introduced to the rest of the guys. This is Lucas Anderson, my wife’s cousin, and next to him is Trenton Anderson, her brother. The two in the middle are Max and Austin, also my wife’s brothers. We’re all a bit protective of who comes around,” Chad said, not once breaking his even, smooth tone. To an outsider, it may sound like he was having a pleasant chat, but Damien had zero doubt he was warning Damien that if he was there to cause trouble, he may as well turn around. Damien wondered how much Sierra had said.

After that thought hit, he finally realized he was standing there with half the Anderson family. This was what his end goal was, to get in a room with them without being seemingly eager to do so, learn what made them tick, find out their weaknesses.

He was so far gone on his obsession with Sierra, he’d thought of nothing but getting through them and to her. What was wrong with him?

“Chatting sounds like a good idea,” Damien finally said, ignoring the small voice inside him that just wanted to find Sierra.

“Good. Let’s go to my den,” Chad said, looking pleased it wasn’t going to turn into a brawl on his front steps. Damien would bet money that Chad’s wife would ream him out if that ended up happening. If she was like Trinity, in the least, and most women were the same in the sense that they didn’t want their men fighting. It was almost worth it to start the battle.

Damien was confident in his strength, but he wasn’t stupid. He was too outnumbered to have a chance of winning a physical battle with all the men surrounding him.

Chad walked in the door while the other men parted to let him through. He walked ahead, his eyes connecting with each man, showing he wasn’t about to cower. The group was silent as they went down a wide hallway, then through a set of double doors into a warm den.

Damien looked around the room, surprised by the number of framed photographs on the walls. Most men liked trophies in their private man-caves, but it seemed pictures were Chad’s trophies.