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Hidden Secret of Billionaire Novel Cover

Hidden Secret of Billionaire

A single night of forbidden passion with her ex-boyfriend's billionaire brother left her pregnant, heartbroken, and fleeing their small town. But when financial ruin forces her back to run her newly inherited coffee shop, she finds him waiting. His intense, obsessive gaze proves he has never let her go. Trapped by her circumstances, she can no longer run from his overwhelming presence—but exposing the secret child she carries will shatter his family forever.
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Chapter 4

SAM

For as long as I can remember, the only thing that has mattered to me is my family: making them proud, making sure they can live the best life possible. It is like a great puzzle of which you are a part, and of which you must also take care that no piece or part is broken or lost. Family unity is very important, a united family is always a solid family. And to be someone who keeps your family together, you need to be someone with a lot of strength, someone who has an iron soul to continue consolidating that stability within the family nucleus. Not everyone could cover such an important role.

I took on the role of caretaker from a very young age. It wasn't like it was pushed to me; I accepted it willingly. I saw what my dad did for my mom, for his sister, for us, and I decided I wanted to be like him. Selflessly sacrificing, working hard to be a man. A successful, respected and good man. And what better example than the one who saw me grow and gave for me, my father, that man whom I had always respected and still do. Although to become like him I need to obtain some very important characteristics that almost no one gets to show off.

I have managed to get just one of those features. I am successful, that cannot be denied in any way. But respect is hard to earn, and most people don't really think of me as a good person. However, I have never let that bother me. Put on a cold, indifferent facade, and suddenly you're untouchable to the world. They can't prick you with thorns if you're wearing armor. It is one of the hidden rules of psychology to achieve success in life. But not even the most successful man in the world can establish the idea that he is respected, and even less in the business field, many people always see you more as a rival than as a person of respect. My father was unique, he had both characteristics. But he was always very modest about it, he didn't like to be praised for that kind of thing. How much admiration I felt for him, which owes all my respect to his memory.

"Mr. Carius, are you with us?" asks one of the board members.

His black suit has been perfectly tailored on his plump body. The thick black mustache over his mouth does nothing to hide the menace I can see on his face. He is a shark; we all are. I give him a cold smile.

"Of course."

There are fifteen of them. They all came together to build this company with my father at the helm. They invested, conspired and worked hard to get Carius Industries to where it is today. There is no Carius Industries without any of them. And they are very proud of that fact.

It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to forget how capable I am. I'm the boss, the CEO. That will never change.

"Fine. You can continue," I tell the marketing director.

The meeting continues and I do my best to ignore his disapproving smirks and sneaky sarcastic comments from him. It's been six years and they still don't respect me like they respected my dad.

I'll never be him, and now he's not even here as my support system. And that knowledge will always haunt me.

* * *

“I need those files on my desk in ten minutes,” I tell my secretary as I walk past her desk.

He nods and his eyes follow me to my office. Once inside, I collapse in my chair and groan. I'm tired. I haven't been home in two days and I haven't eaten in twelve hours. But I'm on the verge of a breakthrough, and honestly that's all that matters.

We're this close to winning a big contract: distractions are the last thing I need. However, I am forced to hold that thought when my phone rings. I sigh inwardly before picking it up.

"Hello, distraction."

"What do you mean by distraction?" my mom asks, confused.

"Nothing. How's your day going?" I ask quickly.

"Good. I went shopping with Meredith.

"Where?"

"Las Vegas. We had a wonderful time. I have some amazing wedding items,” she replies.

It never ceases to amaze me how my mom can talk about taking a private plane and flying to another state like nothing happened. My family is rich, of course, but it is something that is never on my mind. Probably because I work too much and don't have time to enjoy the wealth I'm accumulating for us. My mother always tells me that I work hard just so I don't have time to really enjoy life. Before it was difficult, now I really feel the weight of everything on my shoulders. The last thing on my mind is enjoying life when everything can fall apart if I'm not focused.

"I'm sure you did," I tell him. “Listen, mom, I have to go. I have a lot of work to do.

“All you do is work. Have you eaten anything today?"

I briefly consider lying. The problem is that it's not really in my nature.

“I ate a donut around seven a.m. m.”, I inform him.

She gasps.

"That is a sacrilege."

I smile. "Don't be so dramatic, mother."

“It's good that you're coming home in two weeks. I need you to eat well. Maybe I'll even find you a wife while I'm at it.

"Woah, woah, woah, I've agreed to come home as long as you don't try any matchmaking ploys."

"Oh, did I say that? That's too bad. It's okay, I won't try any matchmaking ploys,” she promises.

“You can't make Meredith do it for you, either,” I say dryly.

"Chicken nugget," she whines.

I laugh. My mom doesn't like to swear openly, and you can get in a lot of trouble if you swear in front of her. I thought words like "chicken nugget" and "pizza sauce" were normal swear words for most of my childhood. High school was interesting, to say the least.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" I ask, ready to hang up.

"Wait, I haven't even told you the best part yet," she states.

I wait five seconds for her to speak until it's clear that she wants to prolong the suspense.

"Come on, mom, spit it out," I say impatiently.

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