The Tycoon's Secret

“Go pack a couple of bags while I speak with Mr. Whitfield. He has business in Australia so you’ll be leaving straight away,” Douglas said, dismissing her from the room as if the deal was done.



Damien tensed, waiting for her reaction. He knew he wasn’t leaving that house without her. She was a mystery that had to be solved. His focus was shifting from revenge to desire, which he didn’t like, but he knew she’d consume his thoughts if he were to walk away at that point. Once he set his mind on something, he had to see it through. It would become an obsession otherwise.



“I… I haven’t decided if I’m taking the job,” she protested.



“You’d be a fool not to,” Douglas said scornfully. “We’ll take care of all the small details. You can run along, now.”



Damien’s irritation with Douglas was at an all-time high and he was about to say something to him until Sierra slowly stood from the couch, lifted her head high, and walked from the room.



Her father had basically told her that her life was his to command, and she hadn’t put up much of a protest at all. She’d almost blindly obeyed him.



Damien stood as he faced Douglas. It appeared all the negative information he’d heard about the man through the years had been accurate.



He hadn’t liked, nor respected Douglas before their meeting. Now, he couldn’t stand him. He was the worst kind of bottom-feeder. He was willing to sell his own daughter as if she were nothing more than a slave. Damien’s respect for Sierra wasn’t much higher – she was just as willing to sell herself. How does someone get to such a point in their life? he wondered.



There was a voice in the back of his mind countering his thoughts. It was impossible to deny the way she seemed utterly broken, as if her father had somehow bent her will to his command. The way she barely fought back, the slump in her shoulders, the defeated tone she used.



Was all of that fear of losing her home, incurring her father’s wrath, or more? One thing Damien knew for sure was that there was a lot more to Sierra than the small glimpse he’d just seen of her. It shouldn’t take him too long to unravel the mystery.



“Let’s sign the papers,” Damien said as he approached Douglas’s desk. Damien’s face was stoic, giving nothing away. Sitting through the meeting had wreaked havoc on the ghost of a Band-Aid covering his own childhood skeletons. His wounds were now fully exposed, feeling extremely raw. He wouldn’t give Douglas even the most fleeting moment of his respect.



It wouldn’t take long to figure out Sierra – when she wasn’t in the presence of her father.



Damien had an iron-clad contract. If Sierra left his employment before three months was out, all his money would be pulled out of the investment with Monroe Enterprises. Douglas got a third up front, then the rest in three months. Still, if she left, even the initial third would be pulled. If Douglas didn’t have the money to re-pay him, Damien would take it any way he could.



Douglas wasn’t a stupid man. He’d see very clearly that the contract was impeccably solid. Damien hadn’t made his billions by making mistakes.



He watched in disgust as the man signed on the bottom line.



∞∞∞



Sierra slumped down on her bed, proud she’d managed to walk from the room without shedding a tear. She didn’t understand what had just happened.



As she looked around her room, the realization of her leaving slowly started sinking in. Some of her fear lifted. It was her way out. She was going away – with her father’s blessings, which meant he wouldn’t be chasing after her.



She didn’t understand why he wanted her to go with Mr. Whitfield, and she was terrified of what their deal was really all about, but still… it was freedom.



She wouldn’t have to stay in the empty mansion, fearing her father’s next drunken rage. She may even be able to spend some time with Bree, get away, live a real life. Maybe this was the beginning of her true liberation.



With fear and uncertainty still coursing through her at her job expectations, as well as excitement to be leaving, Sierra stood and pulled out two suitcases. She started packing clothes, and certain items that actually meant something to her.



She picked up her picture album, the only one she had. She took a moment to open the cover, looking at the picture of her sitting on her mom’s lap, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Each time she looked at the photo she always wondered how differently her life would’ve turned out had her mother lived.



Would her mom have left her father, taken her daughters away so they could live normal lives? Would she and Sandy get along? Sierra somehow doubted it. If Douglas wouldn’t let her leave, she couldn’t see him allowing his wife to leave him. He was all about keeping up appearances, and that’s exactly what he did, no matter the cost.



She flipped the pages and looked at a picture of her and Bree. She’d go see her soon even if only for a weekend. She shut the cover and carefully placed the album in her bag, then quickly gathered the rest of her belongings she wanted to take.



Sierra’s expensive pieces of jewelry were of no interest to her. Douglas had purchased them for high class functions he forced her to attend. He didn’t buy them as a reminder of his love for her, but because he had an image to maintain, and he certainly couldn’t have his daughter show up to a fundraiser looking anything less than what their family image was. He’d worked hard to create such a facade.



She had few items, considering she was twenty-five years old. Her father didn’t buy her gifts, and she wasn’t much of a shopper. She had her clothes, her few sentimental keepsakes from her college days, and that was it. She didn’t really consider anything else in the room hers.



With what she hoped was a final look at her bedroom, Sierra flicked the switch and bathed her prison in darkness before shutting the door. She pushed down both the fright and elation as she asked one of the servants to help her carry her bags down the stairs.



Chapter Six



Sierra stood next to the stretch limo, unsure of how she should say goodbye to her father. She had to bottle the excitement she was feeling at escaping him. He’d probably strangle her on the spot, if he knew the extent of her elation. She was unsettled about Mr. Whitfield’s expectations, though and couldn’t keep a bit of that from showing through her otherwise stony expression.



Still, she couldn’t push away the thought that she was finally getting away from her father. She hoped and prayed she’d never have to step foot inside his house again.



“I’d like to speak to my daughter alone for a moment,” Douglas said as the three of them stood beside the sleek car.



“Make it quick. I have a stop to make before the jet takes off,” Damien said as he glanced at his watch. Sierra was blown away with how the man spoke to her dad. She’d never heard anyone act so disrespectful to Douglas Monroe. People normally did everything they could to impress him, practically bowing at his feet.



What surprised her even more was the fact that her father was allowing the insubordination. She almost wanted to hug Damien, she was so happy to see her father taken down a peg.



Before she could feel too smug, her father was gripping her arm tightly as he led her away from the limo. She didn’t even cringe as pain shot from where his fingers dug in. The pressure was nothing compared to some of the past abuse he’d inflicted on her.



When they were far enough away that he felt confident in not being overheard, he stopped and turned his back to the limo. He obviously didn’t want Damien to see the menace on his face.



“I don’t know how long Damien will put up with you being his personal escort, but you’d better keep your damn mouth shut about what happens in this house. He’s paying a lot more money than your worth for the privilege of your company. Do not disappoint me, or your life won’t be worth living. Do you understand me?” he snarled, emphasizing Damien’s name like it was a swear word.



Sierra felt bile rise in her throat. She knew her father was evil, how could she not? But, without saying the words, he was telling her she was nothing more than a slave to be traded. She knew he felt nothing but disdain for her, but she’d thought somewhere, maybe deep down inside, that he cared the tiniest bit.



She’d been wrong.



With brief words, he’d explained what was expected of her. She feared there wasn’t a job at all. Maybe Damien had just bought her as his mistress. Could she go through with it if that was the case?



The reality was that she probably could. What made the entire matter worse was that she’d rather be this stranger’s sex-toy than her father’s whipping post. There weren’t words to describe the misery coursing through her in that moment.



Only the angst of defying her father kept her standing before him with no expression. She knew better than to show weakness, or release the tears that so desperately wanted to fall. The cost was too great at showing him any emotion.



“I understand, Father. I won’t disappoint you,” she reluctantly responded. She knew she’d been taking too long to reply, because she saw the twinge in his jaw, her alert that he was losing control.



“Good. Don’t forget it. Now, give me a hug to keep up the Monroe image,” he commanded, his body stiff as if having to touch her disgusted him.



Obediently, she moved forward, keeping a few inches from touching him, as she carefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him an awkward hug. He lifted one hand and patted her back, before pushing her away.



To an observer it may have looked like a sad goodbye between a father and daughter, but only if they were far away. Up close, their faces would’ve given them away. His was filled with loathing, hers filled with resolve.



Sierra once again thought of her mother. How could the woman actually marry such a cruel man, and then make it even worse by having children with him? She’d never do that to a child of hers – not for all the comforts in the world. She didn’t want to think her mother had married for money, but she didn’t see any other reason anyone would choose to marry Douglas.



Without saying anything further, Douglas turned, knowing she’d follow him, and they walked silently back to the limo where Damien was casually leaning against the door.



“All set?” he asked, his eyes searching her face.



She looked down, unwilling to let the Master-of-Reading-People, read her.



“Of course,” she quietly replied.



Damien gave a short shake of his head in a silent command as he glanced to his left. Sierra turned and noticed their driver turn around and head back to the front of the vehicle. Damien then opened the door and motioned for her to climb inside. Without saying anything else to her father, she stepped into the back, and waited for Damien to follow.



He joined her and pulled the door shut. As the car started to move, Sierra looked out the window, watching as her home – prison – started to fade from view.



The fear of Damien faded as pure elation filled her. For a few precious moments she forgot the man across from her and reveled in her liberation.



As she turned her head, a small smile playing on her lips, her eyes connected with the dark green depths of Damien’s. Her smile faded as her earlier anxiety rose to the surface. She may be free from her father, but could she have possibly jumped into a fire much worse than the one she’d been in?