Secret Child For Ruthless Don

Elena Legan.

FOUR YEARS AGO

When I was growing up, two events happened that shaped me into who I am. When I was thirteen, I saw my father shoot someone in the mouth. And when I was fifteen, I saw my older brother beat someone within an inch of his life.

I don't know the man my father killed. Its only significance to my life is that witnessing his death marked the end of my innocence. It was the moment my eyes were opened and I realized what kind of family I belonged to.

I learned many lessons that night. The most important thing was finding out how far my family would go to protect me from the cold, hard truth. I was their little girl, after all. My father was furious when he saw me hiding in the corner of the room where he had just killed someone.

I remember being in shock. I remember him talking to me, trying to explain. The next day, he bought me so many gifts. A bribe. It had the desired effect. I haven't mentioned that night since it happened. And I've tried my best to forget it ever happened.

The second thing was much harder to get over. Mainly because it involved my first boyfriend, Aiden Cross. He was two years older than I, but that didn't stop me from falling in love with him. At least, that's what my fifteen-year-old brain thought.

He didn't know who I was. I went to a posh private school where all the kids were the kids of politicians, celebrities, businessmen, and women. The New York elite sent their kids there. Legan fit the bill. Mainly because no one knew anything about my family. I was able to blend in and act like I was from a normal family.

Then I met Aiden. He was handsome, rich, and charismatic. I thought he was everything I wanted. I was caught up in my fantasy high school romance. Things were going well until we got into an argument one day and he ended up punching me in the face.

On some level, I could tell it was an accident, something that happened in the heat of the moment. He tried to apologize, but I broke up with him right away.

I made the mistake of telling my brother what happened, though. It wasn't like I had much of a choice. Coming home with a busted lip gave it all away. My brother showed up the next day with two of his friends.

 I tried to explain to them that it wasn't necessary, but none of them were willing to listen. They managed to corner Aiden. One of the jerks held me down while I watched as my older brother beat him up.

Aiden was lucky, to be honest. My dad didn't know about the incident; if he had, Aiden would be dead. It was hard to watch, though. It was the first time I encountered Tony's darkness.

Don't get me wrong, I love my brother. He is my favorite person in the entire world. But he is also the rain king in my parade. And I have had to deal with that for the last eighteen years. Until now.

I let out a chuckle as I swung precariously on the countertop. If I fall, I will most likely get a concussion or at least a painful bump on my head. But my whiskey-addled mind is not in the mood to worry about such risks right now.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I look down and see cold, dark blue eyes staring back at me. For some reason, I let out another chuckle.

“Hey, jerk number one,” I greet.

His brow furrows. He glances at the empty glass and the bottle on the counter before his gaze returns to me.

“Elena? Of all the places to get drunk.”

I wrinkle my nose.

“This is a bar with lots of free booze. Where else am I supposed to get drunk?”

“Not at my family’s house,” he says through clenched teeth. “You’re underage.”

I snort.

“Dude, you’ve been drinking since you were thirteen.”

“We’re not the same.”

A cloud of sadness washes over me at this. We’re not. So different, so fucking different.

“I know. But I have some amazing news today,” I say sadly.

Then he looks at me with inquisitive blue eyes. Sometimes I think he can see into my thoughts. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could. Roman De Luca always felt otherworldly, scary. He exhales before taking a step forward.

“Come on, let’s get you down.”

I push his hand away from my leg, and he looks at me.

“Don’t touch me, I don’t want to break out in hives.”

“Real mature, wolf cub.”

I roll my eyes at the nickname. He's been calling me that ever since I dressed up as a wolf for Halloween when I was little. It would be cute if I didn't know he was making fun of me every time he said it. Very slowly, I lower myself until I'm sitting on the counter.

Roman is still standing there. We're at eye level now, since he's a six-foot-three giant. I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes.

"Don't you? Are you going to ask me what exciting news I have?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” he says dryly.

He goes to get a bottle from the huge bar, pours some whiskey into a shot glass, and throws it back.

“Your hypocrisy disgusts me,” I mutter.

He’s also underage. At least for the next three months, until he turns twenty-one. But no one has ever batted an eye at the amount of alcohol he and my brother consume. It’s so unfair. But as he says, we’re not the same.

Roman shrugs, but doesn’t respond to my comment. We both fall silent. I know he’s waiting for me to tell him my exciting news, but on some level, I don’t want to share it. I don’t want him to know about something that makes me happy. He’ll probably find a way to crush it.