Surviving Jordon Read online

  Surviving Jordan

  Surviving Series Book 3

  By Virginia Wine

  I’d kept his dirty little secret far too long, festering like a wound that would not heal. His darkness stained my future and shattered my dreams. But, now I was free to know the truth, would it set me free or destroy me.

  Forgive me for what I’m about to do.

  *Content warning: Contains adult content, language, and scenes that may not be suitable for all audiences. Intended for 18+ audience. *

  SURVIVING Jordan

  Copyright © 2018 by Virginia Wine

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Added Touches. Edited by The Formatting Fairies. Formatted by Brenda Wright, Formatting Done Wright. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The eBook version may not be resold or given away to other people unless this version is part of a lending program. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First edition, 2018

  Formatted by: Brenda Wright, Formatting Done Wright

  Visit the cover designer’s website at

  www.addedtouches.com

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  To all the fierce women in my life.

  Powerful things I’d long buried were about to unfold. I’d kept his dirty little secret far too long, festering like a wound that would not heal. His darkness stained my future and shattered my dreams. I was repulsed by my very own DNA.

  I stood staring out into the city, the sun glimmering off the steel buildings, being drawn into the haze, fooled by its safety. Suddenly, as if reaching out from the grave, he ripped it all away.

  The familiar tightness filled my chest, just as it had done ten years ago. The pain was timeless.

  Alex knocked on my office door and walked in.

  “Lock it,” I say, looking over my shoulder.

  I could see the hesitation as he turned to secure the latch. His confused look was understandable under the circumstances.

  “Why haven’t you been returning my calls?”

  I turned to face him.

  “I don’t know how to begin the conversation.”

  My deliberate delay only fueled his frustration as he forked his fingers through his hair.

  “Start from the beginning,” he said, taking a seat on my white leather couch.

  Of course, there was only one way of doing this. I snapped into action, my heart galloping within my chest as I reached for the safe on the wall, hidden by the Gustav Klimt print. My fingers quickly maneuvered the combination. Taking in a deep breath, I turned with the letter in hand.

  “I lose a little more of my soul each time I read this,” I confessed.

  “What is it, Ben?”

  “Secrets laid bare, exposed.”

  What else could I say? The words printed on the letter would explain it all.

  He stiffened at my remarks, yet he still accepted

  the letter. Once opened, I could silently hear each word written, as Alex began to read.

  Dear Son,

  Forgive me for what I’m about to do. The time has come for me to move on. However, my soul will not rest in peace. The regrets are many, the blessings are few. I only have myself to blame.

  I’m not proud of the shadowy recollections you have of your childhood. We stood at odds on many occasions. I was not a father easily loved or respected. Perhaps in time you can learn from the good and forgive the bad, for I am repentant.

  It’s too late now to make things right for my family, and I accept the fact no one will be there to hold my hand as I pass. That is the price I will pay for my mistakes.

  I loved my children, but I lacked the ability to show it.

  I’ve loved one woman in my life. In hindsight, I’m sure this fact hurt many—mostly your mother, for I betrayed her.

  My love, Patricia, secretly bore a child, a girl. I didn’t reject her. I kept her safe from my demons. Protected her by my absence. She will never know the truth, and she is untouched by my presence. Unlike my sons, who had to bear the scars of my existence.

  I could not allow the secret to be carried to my grave. Continue with the financial assistance laid out and promise me that my secret will be safe in your hands.

  I was the man who gave her life, and I need you to ensure her future.

  Above all else, you need to be there for you sister, Jordan.

  Your Father

  Alex’s body went still as stone, and several beats of silence filled the space when words failed between us.

  “When did you receive this?”

  His eyes burned into me, his noticeable anger justified.

  “After the will was read.”

  I was still reeling as I exposed the letter, shared my burden, and witnessed my brother change before me. I didn’t honor my father’s wishes for clemency; I never would. It was time to bring the secrets out from the dark and into the light.

  “We have a sister, and you kept it secret, even from me?”

  He was offended, like I’d hit him square in the chest. Maybe I had. I understood his reaction, and it was justified. But he didn’t see my point.

  “Hear me out, Alex.”

  I sat next to him, taking the letter and folding it back into its original envelope. It was napalm in my hands, poison destroying everything in its path.

  “The secret Father passed on to me was deliberate, and it was meant for me alone. I knew Father suspected my instant attraction to Jordan. How could we forget the golden rule? Don’t fuck the help. His play on words made sense at the time, but his motives were beyond imagination.”

  I sympathized with Alex’s shock and his unrelenting stare as he absorbed each and every word.

  “He put barriers in place, so I wouldn’t cross the line to the unthinkable. But my heart still wanted her and desired her. Until I received this letter, and my entire world tilted on its axis.”

  “She doesn’t know?” Alex asked. “All this time, and she never suspected?”

  “No. It’s been my job to keep my distance and fight any leftover feelings, but she’s not blind. Once there as a blossoming passion between us, and then, overnight, nothing.”

  Explaining the torment that has settled beneath my skin and lived there dormant for ten gut-wrenching years was nearly impossible.

  “And neither one of you have married or moved on. Why?”

  He raised a questioning brow.

  “I said I buried my feelings, but I didn’t say they were gone.�
� I shrugged. “I can’t speak for Jordan.”

  “Did our Father perform a DNA test? He would have wanted proof.”

  Alex leaned his forearms on his knees, attempting to find reason when reason didn’t exist.

  “I don’t know, but I was able to secretly perform a sibling DNA submission, and the test came back inconclusive.”

  “And now you want a paternity test, and DNA, from our father.”

  I could see the pieces coming together for Alex. My odd request at the cemetery was making sense to him now.

  “And Jordan’s mother?

  “She died shortly after our Father.”

  “Why now?” Shaking his head, he attempted to understand the complicated facts and the ugly truths revealed today. “Why not ten years ago, Ben?”

  How could I possible explain away ten years in the few moments we would share today? My sanity wasn’t exactly functioning on all cylinders at the moment.

  “Fuck, Alex. At first, I thought I’d get over her. She was my sister now. A friend I could occasionally share time with, never crossing that line. How fucked up is that?”

  My emotions are now exploding, and I’m finally willing to fight for the possibility of having her. I needed proof; either way, I needed to know. Secretly, there was another reason, too, and I knew exactly what had thrown me over the edge. Or who.

  Steel Archer.

  “Father made her CEO and my superior for a reason, and under the wave of secrecy, he was able to get acquainted with his own daughter under the pretense of a working relationship.”

  Alex listened, his brows knitted tight in a frown full of disapproval, disbelief, and shock. All the similar feelings I had the first time I opened that envelope. They had lingered for all the years to follow.

  “She was top of her class, Harvard. Father appointed her as the new CEO right after graduation. I didn’t understand at the time, and I was furious. I had very little voice and very little authority to alter his decisions, as you well know.”

  I stood, placing the letter into the safe, a small part of me tempted to burn the damn thing, but that wouldn’t change facts.

  “Once I met her, I couldn’t hate her for what our Father had done. Just the opposite—she pulled me in, tugging on my heart. She shined as CEO, impressing us all with her ability and keen eye.

  “Ben, father was a conniving bastard.”

  Alex looked up to see me fighting the same battle I had started so long ago. It had become perfectly clear only days after my father’s death that he only inflicted pain and sorrow, and then he had twisted my heart into pieces until it shattered to the ground.

  “Her mother had never exposed Father’s true identity to Jordan, her own daughter?” Alex asked. “Why would she keep his secret? Jordan was his illegitimate daughter, and he could have been forced to own up to it.”

  I was familiar with every scenario that he was attempting to structure at this very moment. But eventually he’d realize that the answers wouldn’t come.

  “I still don’t know, but he didn’t leave them out in the cold, either. There was still a monthly check I distributed, even after her mother had died. I came to the conclusion, as preposterous as it seemed, that he was somehow capable of love. This was a genuine, long-term love affair, hidden, obviously. A secret kept by all.”

  The secret I’d protected until this very moment.

  “Did he just trust her word? I assumed he did, but there was no record of proof, and I searched every possibility for any evidence, coming up empty at every turn.”

  “So now you want to exhume Father’s remains and collect DNA? You understand that with either outcome, it will change everything.”

  “I realize that, but even as we speak, his words haunt me and hold me hostage. But within the truth, there’s power, and either way, I’ll finally be free. What I need from you is a few legal issues to handle.”

  “Of course. You have power of attorney, and you are the executor of his will, so I don’t see any problems. But I’ll proceed with any legalities.”

  “Thank you, Alex.”

  I knew I could count of him. I often thought I’d gotten past the effects after all these years, but I was so very wrong. It still carried so much weight, and so much pain still lingered. What I hoped for is that I could just stop pretending and forge a relationship with Jordan based on the truth.

  “By the way, how is Jordan doing after the incident at the wedding?”

  My heart contracted, well aware of her struggles—and who she was reaching out to comfort her.

  “I gave her the name of a good therapist, Theo.”

  “Ah, good call.”

  “But I don’t see her actually going.”

  “I’ll contact you as soon as I have information to share.”

  “Thank you, brother. Send my love to Madison.”

  I watched him leave, and once alone, my plan solidified. I began focusing on my work at hand, but it was difficult, as if I had been thrown back a decade or two. All this talk has triggered the old feelings, and they were now bubbling at the surface. The thoughts and dreams I’d buried so deep within me had protected me against harm. I had deliberately chosen numbness over emotion. The walls constructed, put in place over a single sheet of paper, written by the man who shattered everything.

  Forcing my attention to business matters, I focused on each deal with vigor. Business, I had control of. Money had no heart, and success was achieved over the next big deal. Victory was sweet, and I understood the value of hard work, so I found solace in my conquests.

  People assumed that I had been handed this company but let me be clear: nothing was ever handed to me. I earned it. I had always fought to prove myself. In truth, I had started at the bottom and clawed my way up the ladder of success. A lesson my father had demanded at the time. I had accepted his challenge, knowing I could get there, and that I could win.

  He had been a hard-ass leader, and I knew once I held the reins that I would not lead my people in the same manner. I didn’t need to break them to motivate them. I wouldn’t rule by fear, but by encouragement.

  Professionally, I was composed and always in control through corporate meetings, stock investments, and anything business related. I was ambitious, ruthless at times, but always with a laser-jet focus. I steered the ship with pure intensity.

  Frankly, everything was golden in every aspect of my life—with the exception of Jordan. She never truly utilized her rank over me, and never put me on a leash. Far from it. My risky adventures usually resulted in high-yielding profits. She didn’t attempt to tame the cutting-edge shark techniques I used to obtain the fastest-growing fields around the globe. I had hitched our wagon to industries such as systems design, which was covertly thriving underneath everyone’s nose. But not mine.

  A knock on my door jarred me from my thoughts.

  “Come in.”

  Where was Janet, my assistant?

  “Got a minute?”

  Jordan peeked her head in. Her long ginger waves swung in midair, finally landing over her shoulder.

  No, my mask was not firmly in place.

  “Of course, come in.”

  I stood to greet her. The way she moved was captivating. Her black pencil skirt rested just above the knee. The plum silk blouse screamed professional career woman, custom fit to hug her full breasts, and tapered into her small waist. Her black fuck-me sky-high pumps were far from business.

  “Have a seat.”

  She did, crossing one leg over the other.

  I looked away once I was seated.

  “I just got the invite.” She held a printed email in her hands. “A charity event. Are you going?”

  Was she asking for me to accompany her? Or just curious in general? We often went to these things together, but something in me had shifted. The trajectory of our relationship had new found hope. The easy-going friendship was now altered and strained, morphing into something else entirely.

  “I haven’t had an opportunity to c
heck my emails, but yes, I’ll go if I’m free.”

  “Good. Share a ride?”

  That was code for join me.

  “Of course.”

  Her warm smile reached her eyes as she walked out, allowing me the view I’d been waiting for—or dreaded—in my fragile state.

  It had been my job to keep the distance between us and keep it professional, and I had. But that didn’t warm my sheets at night. Sex was something else entirely. I’d taken girls out, but only with the intent to fuck them. To forget the hold Jordan had on me, I’d close my eyes, buried deep in a stranger’s body floating between reality and fantasy. Imagining Jordan’s body beneath me. I’d come to accept this fucked-up behavior as my norm.

  I realized I would have to find a woman tonight and take the edge off. After six o’clock, I made my way to McKenzie’s Bar, located on the outskirts of the city. Purposely driving the thirty minutes, I was unwilling to risk an inconvenient acquaintance recognizing me out on the prowl.

  The place was crowded for a weekday. I understood the appeal: dark lighting, candles flickering over glazed eyes. The dark woods were rich in color as couples shared the crescent-shaped booths, their bodies close, rubbing against each other, hidden from invading eyes.

  I took a seat at the bar and ordered a Macallan 12 single malt, neat. My three-piece suit set the tone. Professional seeking willing party. Must be beautiful, and noncommittal. Tossing my line out into the deep blue waters, I waited patiently, but it didn’t take long for my first bite.

  “Hi.”

  I felt her touch before I turned to meet her gaze. Her long blonde hair and exposed cleavage felt forced, and desperate. I was kind, but ultimately released her. Then I slammed the last drop, tapping my glass, letting the bartender know I wanted another one. I headed for the restroom, but there’s a line on either side of the wall. One for men, the other for women.

  The woman directly across from me was beautiful, with long, tousled auburn hair and an appearance of innocence. I smiled. She dared to make eye contact, then suddenly looked away shyly. That’s what I wanted. A soft chuckle escaped me before I could stop it. Her gaze swung instantly to mine.