Chapter 6 – Drake
DRAKE
As an only child, I often dreamed of having a sibling. I’d always wanted a brother. Someone to play video games with and watch sports. Instead, I did those things with Marcello. He was the closest I had to a brother. Our bond was thicker than blood.
But with Tate and Olivia living here, things were about to change. My father collected mistresses and frequented high-end escorts. Their mother could have been one of them. And in her prime, before she started using drugs, Alanna Maxwell was a knockout.
Olivia had inherited her mother’s good looks. Now that she was clean, dressed in black leggings and a tank top, her hair washed and styled, I could see her more clearly. Beneath the layers of dirt was a beautiful girl.
At dinner, Olivia said, “Can you pass the rolls?”
I handed the basket to her, and our skin connected. A strange electrical current rushed up my arm. I dropped the bread on the table, surprised by the unusual sensation.
Olivia glanced at me, eyes wide as if she felt it, too.
To avoid any further contact, I slid the basket to her. She was so damn pretty my chest ached.
No more looking.
No more touching.
Throughout dinner, my gaze wandered toward her. Olivia noticed, and whenever our eyes locked, she blushed.
I loved it when she smiled.
For a split second, the world would stop as if we were the only people in the room. But then, I would remind myself that she could be my family. Whatever I felt for her would go away. These fleeting moments would fizzle out once I knew the truth.
Olivia bore no similarity to Tate. He had a darker complexion and hair, more like mine. We even had the same Roman nose. Our jaws were angular, but he was thinner in the cheeks, given how much weight he’d lost being on the street.
With the siblings living under my roof, I could have their DNA sampled. My father wanted me to find and support them for a reason.
I needed answers.
I had to know why.
Why would my father ignore me for most of my life and then, in death, stab me in the chest? He did this to hurt me, to punish me for some indiscretion. The old bastard never approved of my choices. He didn’t understand how my mind worked and didn’t embrace the man I had become.
He wanted me to be ruthless, like him. But I was more like my mother and had a moral compass.
“So,” Tate said after the kitchen staff cleared our plates. “Liv and I talked earlier… And we want to know the truth. We’re not staying with you unless you give us some answers.”
For someone who had nowhere to go and not a cent to his name, Tate was bold. I appreciated his no-nonsense attitude. Moving between foster homes and living on the streets had hardened his exterior.
“I want them too,” I admitted. “If you’re open to it, I would like to bring in a doctor to run some tests.”
Olivia folded her hands on the table, eyes fixed on me. “I don’t like doctors.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I told her. “They’ll take some blood and swab your mouth for DNA.”
She bit her trembling lip.
“It won’t hurt. I promise.”
Her gaze shifted to Tate.
He reached over and grabbed her hand. “You’ll be okay, Liv. The needle is just a little pinch.”
“It will be over in a minute,” I said to ease her concern. “We all want to know why my father sent me on this mission to look for you. If there’s a possibility we’re related, then I need to sort some things out.”
Tate cocked his head at me. “Sort out what?”
The thought of losing my birthright twisted my stomach into knots. I’d worked so hard to build Battle Industries into a powerhouse. My father ruined the lives of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of people in his pursuit of power. So, why would he want to throw it all away?
“If we share a father, you’re entitled to a third of my company.”
Olivia put her hand over her mouth and gasped.
Tate tapped my hand and rose from the table. “It’s time for you to show me the Battle Cave.”
After we ate dessert, I showed Olivia to the library, where she sat on a couch surrounded by books. I thought she would appreciate my collection, and I was right. Her expression brightened the second she saw my Harry Potter signed first editions.
Olivia flipped through the pages, remarking at how perfectly I’d preserved the books. Seeing her smile did something weird to my heart, and that feeling needed to go away.
With Olivia situated, I grabbed Tate and headed downstairs.
The elevator doors opened beneath the ground level into my favorite place in the entire world.
Dozens of screens hung on each wall. Several of the larger monitors extended from the ceiling.
Desks lined the room’s corners, filled with laptops, servers, and more screens.
At the center of the open room was the oversized sectional couch where I slept most nights. I preferred the solace of my private domain. Down here, no one could bother me.
Tate’s eyes roamed around the room, impressed. “So, this is the Battle Cave? Sweet setup, man.” He inched into the room, unsure where to go. “This place is the size of the entire house. When you said cave, I thought something dark and not so… Well, not this.”
I patted him on the back and laughed. “Drink with me. We have a lot to discuss.”
Tate followed me to the bar on the right side of the room. I poured two glasses of scotch and passed one to Tate, swallowing the amber liquid in two gulps.
He sipped from the snifter and eyed me up. “Slow down, champ. The night is young. I need you to be coherent if we’re going to talk.”
I looked at Tate, studying each of his features, wondering if we were related.
We both had dark hair, but I had my mother’s blue eyes.
Tate could have had my father’s brown eyes, though it was hard to say for sure.
As the months passed, memories of my father slipped from my mind like sand through a sieve.
Tate’s natural complexion was on the olive side, more like Marcello’s, where I was a shade or two lighter. Apart from our height and build, we had little in common.
I poured another drink and plopped onto the sectional couch beside Tate.
“The day after my father’s funeral, I received a letter from his attorney.
When he was alive, we never got along. He constantly looked down on me and didn’t treat me like a son.
I don’t have any reason to believe you or Olivia are my siblings, but if you are, consider yourselves lucky not to have met the mean, old bastard. ”
“We didn’t know our dad,” Tate admitted. “Our mom refused to tell us his name. But this guy used to come by the apartment when we were little. I remember little about him except that he had dark hair and wore suits and too much cologne.”
“That could be anyone I know.”
“I stopped asking my mom about my dad after she hit me so hard my skin ripped open.” He sipped from his glass and sighed.
“She was on one of her benders and high as a kite. My mom kept screaming that no one was coming to save us and to forget about my father. That was the last time we ever spoke of him. A year later, she died.”
“I’m sorry,” I said because I didn’t know what else to say.
My mom was my number one fan. She always smoothed things over with my dad after one of our heated arguments.
Tate sank into the leather cushion, the glass tipped to his mouth.
“We don’t have fathers listed on our birth certificates.
My mom was an only child and wasn’t close to her family.
” He took another sip, pausing for a moment before he said, “They say siblings usually stay together in foster care. But that wasn’t the case for Liv and me.
After seeing my criminal record, they didn’t think twice about sending me to a different home. ”
“I took care of that,” I told him, hoping a clean slate would comfort him. “A judge expunged your record.”
His lips parted in shock, then closed. He stared, blinked a few times. Then, he leaned over and threw one arm around me.
“Thanks, man. This means a lot to us. I could have lived on the streets for years. I’m a survivor. But Liv… I couldn’t keep her out there for much longer.”
I hugged him back, holding on for a second too long before pulling away. “I’m just glad you finally accepted my help. After months of chasing you two down, it was getting exhausting.”
Tate laughed. “What can I say? I don’t trust easily. I’ve had to deal with one asshole after another trying to use and abuse me. I have to strike first. It’s the only way I know how to make it.”
My gut ached at his confession. I complained about my overbearing father, who had treated me like shit from birth. But I didn’t know how it felt to be homeless, starving, and with no place to go.
“You’re safe now.” I put my hand on his knee and grinned. “No more looking over your shoulder or worrying about the cops.”
Tate shoved a hand through his dark hair that needed a cut. “What’s the plan?”
“Olivia will stay here and attend Astor Prep. She starts on Monday. And you will meet with the recruiter in the morning. If you’re strong enough, you can ship out for boot camp within the next week.”
Tate punched my arm and snickered. “Strong enough? I’ll show you.” He raised his fists, laughing. “Wanna fight, Battle?”
I shook my head and laughed, swatting at his hands. “Okay, tough guy. You know what I mean. Not that long ago, you were knocking on death’s door.”
“I’m fine.” He extended his arms wide and smirked. “Picture of health.”
Despite his recent living situation, Tate was still strong in the arms and chest, built solid. He had definition in his biceps and calves and could easily bulk up with the proper discipline and diet.
“I keep IV fluids in a supply cabinet upstairs. If you want to fast-track things, you’ll need to get your body up to an acceptable level.”
“Done and done,” Tate said, confident. “Did you mean what you said about the job? The head of security position? Will you really hire me when I get back?”
I nodded. “The job is yours if you last the four years without getting your punk ass dishonorably discharged.”
“Dick,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Game on.”
I downed the dregs of my highball glass and set it on the table. “A nurse will be here tomorrow. We need to know why my father tasked me with finding you and Olivia. Regardless of the DNA results, you’re a Battle now. Welcome to the family, brother.”
“Brother,” Tate said with a smile that reached his eyes. “I like the sound of that.”