Page 1 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

CHAPTER 1

SAM

Ifelt about ten feet tall watching the Sharps leave my office. The deal I’d just made would open the south to us, Elkins Home stores fanning out from Kentucky. It would be a huge market. A total game changer. And with the terms I’d secured, we’d see record profits. The upcoming fiscal year would be our biggest one yet.

I sat, then stood up again, restless. Excited. Today was the day. Couldn’t be any other. I knew it like I’d known when I faced down the Sharps: I had this. The big prize was already mine. It was like Dad always said — It’s all toys, kid. The world’s your toy box. You just need to reach in and pick one to play with.

I’d asked him once, when I was five or six, what if some other kid has the toy I want?

You figure out how to take it. It’s okay if he cries, but make sure he doesn’t squeal. If he goes running to Mommy, it’s game over.

Yeah, my dad was mean. But he was retiring. And today was the day I’d been working for all my life: the day Paul Elkins would finally hand over his empire. The whole toy box, as he might say. All mine, at last. I counted the signs off, why it was today.

One: the Sharps. He must’ve figured we’d close today and timed the handoff to match.

Two: my afternoon was suspiciously clear — no meetings, no golf, no conference calls. The one call I’d had was mysteriously canceled, replaced on my calendar by a meeting with Dad.

Three, and most telling: next week looked light too. Dad had told me last weekend I would be busy. Not to schedule anything important without his say-so. Which meant, what else? Today was the day. He’d deliver the good news, then we’d celebrate. Then next week, I’d be busy settling into his shoes.

I locked the door to my office and went to the closet. I always kept a couple of suits in there in case of emergency, a shelf of fresh shirts. Ties. Socks and boxers. Now, I changed slowly, taking my time. Smoothing my shirt down. Knotting my tie. Shaking my pants out till the crease fell just right. I lint-rolled my jacket, though it was pristine, ran a comb through my hair. Shot my cuffs. Fixed my collar. I tried not to smile at my own reflection, but one broke through anyway, a big, boyish grin.

Today was the day.

I couldn’t wait.

I had big ideas for the Elkins Group. For the type of CEO I’d be. The way I’d do business. With Dad at the helm, I’d been stuck in my lane, mergers and acquisitions. Limited scope. But once I moved up?—

“Mr. Elkins?” My secretary’s voice floated through the intercom.

“Yes, April?”

“Your father’s on his way up.”

I reined in my smile. “Thank you.”

This was it. The board must’ve arrived while I closed the Sharps deal. I wondered how many would be here in person — just the old guard, or the whole crew? Dad was big on the showmanship, so maybe not just them. Maybe he’d call in the whole executive suite. I thought about asking April who all was waiting, but I didn’t want to seem nervous. I wasn’t. I had this.

“Let him know I’m on my way.” I adjusted my tie one more time and drew myself up, and tried not to bounce as I strode from my office. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning, but it wouldn’t do to look like one. To look too excited. I composed my face into a tight, stern mask and squared my shoulders so I looked bigger. Then I marched down the hall and…

Something felt off.

I paused with my hand on the boardroom door, an unpleasant tension tightening my throat. Nothing seemed out of place, the top floor still. Quiet. The drone of the AC. The dry smell of coffee. Nothing unusual, so why the gooseflesh? I listened, heard nothing, and shook my head. This was excitement and nothing more. Excitement bubbling over and turning to nerves. Of course it felt strange, getting everything I wanted. I’d worked for it so long, and now it was here. All I had to do was walk in and take it.

I breathed in through my nose, let it out through my teeth. Slapped on what I hoped was a casual half-smile. I’d act surprised, I decided, but not too surprised. Surprised by the timing, but not by the news. Because this was already mine, just like the Sharps.

Just one more toy.

I flung the door open.

And stood there, smile fading. Where was everyone? Dad was at the window, looking out over Boston, but the table, the board seats… empty. All empty. That was what had struck me, standing outside, the lack of chatter. No laughter. No sound.

I cleared my throat. “Dad.”

He turned around. “Sit down.”

I stared at the table, with its ranks of empty chairs. Where was I supposed to sit, down at the end? Up next to Dad, crammed into one corner? I stayed standing instead, and circled the table.

“What’s going on? I thought?—”

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