Darius Holt of Holt Enterprises revealed to be an alpha after paternity test comes out!
Who is Owen Mitchell and why is he carrying Darius Holt's child?
The news about Darius' true nature and his relationship with Owen had spread like wildfire after he had submitted the paternity test to the board. He was furious that the board members had not hesitated to hand over his personal information to the media, and now he spent most of his time trying to avoid his dad. He could not stand the disappointment he knew would crease his dad's face.
Owen had noticed his anxiety almost immediately and did whatever he could to make Darius feel better, but Darius could see in his eyes that he blamed himself.
Darius had kept Owen away from social media, but anytime the topic of Owen's pregnancy came up, he reminded Owen that everything he was hearing was fake. Even though he longed to tell Owen the truth, Darius wanted all the pieces in his hands first.
Which was why he met Marlowe downtown, in a place deep enough in the underworld that no one would stare or ask questions but close enough to the professional world that no one would pull a gun out. The diner was not horrible, as far as diners went, and Darius found himself actually eating some of the food Marlowe had ordered. "So?" Darius asked, tipping his head toward the stack of information Marlowe had brought. "Let's see it."
Marlowe obliged him, pulling off the first third of the stack. "I started with what you asked for, you know, the basic information. The omega you wanted to know about is Owen Mitchell. His last known address was Apartment 1106 in the Oak Hills building on 5th and Cross, but he canceled the contract and hasn't been seen there in some time. Honestly, I'm surprised you don't know more about him because he works for you."
Darius stared blankly at the sheet Marlowe handed him. Owen. Owen had been the omega from the club. Owen was the omega who had been a perfect match for him in every way. It made sense now, how Owen's baby was also his. It all made perfect sense. Darius laughed under his breath and slid the paper back across the table to Marlowe. "I do know him. He's my assistant."
Marlowe's eyes went wide. His gaze was bright and quick today, unlike the almost-comatose state Darius usually found him in. The money he got paid today would probably get spent on drugs within the week.
But Darius could live with that. Marlowe's behavior and habits were not his responsibility. His only expectation was that Marlowe got him results when he asked. That was all that mattered.
Marlowe carefully restacked the papers he had been flipping through. "Assistant, huh? Is that the one you knocked up?"
Darius would have glared, but it was Marlowe, so he just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, in the club that night."
Marlowe whistled under his breath. "You play a dangerous game, Dare." Marlowe was the only one allowed to call Darius "Dare" in public, since Darius did not want his real name floating around the underworld.
There was already enough to deal with without having to field accusations about his involvement in illegal trades.
Marlowe grabbed the next third off the stack and started pinching through it with nervous fingers. "I did do a little more digging on him, just in case. Everything looks right…"
"But?" Darius prompted.
Marlowe's lips tightened ever so slightly. "But there's things off. Little things. Like his file says that he graduated from Falville University, and they have him down as an alumnus. But there's no record of him taking any classes there, whether in person or online."
That was…odd. "Maybe they changed systems and forgot to copy him over?"
Marlowe shook his head. "Falville University has used the same system for the past decade. Owen Mitchell is 21, not nearly old enough to have been in college when the last system transfer happened." He tapped the fingers of his right hand against the top of the table. "There's other things too. There's no record of Owen's family anywhere in any database. They don't exist."
Darius frowned. "That can't be right. I've heard him talk to his dad on the phone."
Marlowe shrugged and handed over the family search results.
It was exactly like Marlowe had said. It was not just that Owen did not have any living family. His family did not exist at all. To all appearances, Owen Mitchell had spawned out of thin air with no connections and no life before he started working at Holt Enterprises. "This can't be right," Darius whispered, even though the evidence was staring right back at him with its baleful black and white gaze.
"Yeah, that's what I said," Marlowe replied, taking a few gulps of his coffee while Darius reread the report. "If he's not a foreign spy, then I'm my aunt's uncle."
Darius looked up. "You say the stupidest shit, Marlowe."
Marlowe grinned. "I know." He pulled on the knotted strings of his ratty brown hoodie. "There's more details, but I think you get the picture. I'll send over a full report to you once I get back if you'd like to read through everything I found." At Darius' nod, he continued, "There's something else, though." He pulled out a thin folder from the bottom of the stack, his hands careful like he was handling dynamite. "When I ran the face search, this came up." He slowly pushed it across the table to Darius. "It's a police file from a little more than five years ago. An up-and-coming business, Smith and Company, suddenly went bankrupt and imploded, practically overnight. The police were sure that it had been a malicious inside job. This file is on the prime suspect."
Darius opened the file and was met with the mugshot of a face eerily similar to what Owen might have looked like in adolescence. "Randall Dawson?"
Marlowe shrugged. "Cons give fake names all the time."
Darius did not argue with that. After all, he had met Marlowe under at least twelve different names so far. "This kid was a high school intern at the company. Interns have no access to anything their supervisor doesn't approve. How could Dawson do anything to the company in that position? And if he was the perpetrator, why didn't he come in as a secretary or an assistant? That would have given him much higher access."
Marlowe simply raised an eyebrow, like he was annoyed Darius had not put together all the pieces. "I looked up Randall Dawson, simply because I was curious. And you know what? Randall Dawson did not exist anywhere until he started that internship."
Like Owen, Darius' brain immediately filled in. He cursed himself for it, for doubting the love of his life so quickly and easily. He flipped the file shut. "Owen's not a criminal."
Marlowe sighed. "That isn't the only police file that got a match. There's five others from across the country that all came up with a close facial match. I'm pulling strings right now to get my hands on them, but it's difficult since all of these cases were shut down pretty much the instant the police started investigating. It looks like the same pattern over and over: new employee, company collapse in less than a month, prime suspect put into custody, investigation shut down, suspect freed. Every damn time. They can't be isolated events. Someone's systematically taking down his competition from the inside, and if Owen Mitchell is played by the same guy who played Randall Dawson, you're in for a lot of trouble, Mr. Dare." Marlowe gathered up his stack of papers but left the file on the table. "You keep that. Look it over. I'll bring the rest when I get them and you can compare." He stood up but hesitated by the table. "For your sake," he said quietly, "I do hope your boyfriend isn't a cutthroat traitor." And with that, he turned and left the diner, slipping out into the smog-filled streets of the underworld.
Darius sat there alone for a few minutes, fingering the file and trying to stay sane. He left a 50 on the table and walked out, the file tucked securely between his arm and side.
Owen was on the couch in the living room when Darius returned to the apartment, and he sat up the instant the front door opened, concern written across every feature of his face. He got up onto his knees and, leaning on the back of the couch, watched Darius take off his shoes. "It's so late. Where have you been?"
The worry in Owen's eyes cut straight through Darius' ribs and slit his heart open. Darius slid the file into his pile of work papers and approached Owen. "I was just meeting a colleague." The lie was too easy. It should not be this easy to lie to the man he loved more than the entire world! "It was the only time both of our schedules aligned." He bent down and brushed his thumb across Owen's lips. "I'm sorry for making you worry."
Owen pouted, though he had clearly forgiven Darius already. "Aren't you the one who always says I need more sleep?"
Darius smiled and pecked Owen's lips lightly. "I'm sorry, baby."
Owen tipped his face up to Darius. "Say it again."
Darius pinched Owen's nose. "Aren't you a little brat? Lording it over me just because you're carrying my child?"
Owen froze, his playful expression melting like ice. "What do you mean?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and frightened. "It's not a lie? What we're telling the world isn't a lie? It's the truth?"
Darius' heart had stopped. His stupid, stupid tongue! "Owen," he began softly, sliding his hands up behind Owen's ears.
Owen shoved away, his eyes narrowing into that mistrusting shark's glare. Even though he was breathing hard, he did not have to show fear for Darius to sense it. Fear tinged his every movement and colored the scent of his pheromones.
Darius' heart nearly broke. For omegas, to put fear into their pheromones was a scream for help. Darius had only heard of fear pheromones being released during events such as sexual assault. He took a shaky step around the couch. "Owen," he tried again, "I'm not trying to hurt you."
Owen's hand found the arm of the couch as he scrambled back from Darius' approach. "Hurt me? I think you've hurt me enough for ten lifetimes! You're the one who grabbed me in that club! The alpha who dragged me away even though I said no! The alpha who…" His voice cracked. "The alpha who raped me for his rut, and the self-centered son of a bitch who left me with this fucking abomination in my body that I can't get rid of!"
Darius flinched, as if the truth was a slap across his face and a punch to his stomach. Owen, sweet gentle Owen, had sworn at him. And he could not deny that he deserved it. He deserved it more than Owen knew. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know it was you until the test results came back."
"And you didn't think to tell me then?" Owen pushed up off the couch with a sudden burst of anger-fueled energy. He walked up to Darius and slapped his face with such force that Darius saw spots of black dance into his vision. "Bastard. You might be worse than my father."
Darius dropped down to his knees. How else was he supposed to fix this except through begging? "Owen, please. I didn't know how to tell you, and that's on me. I screwed up. I really did. As for what happened that night–"
"Those nights," Owen corrected coldly. "You raped me for at least two days."
Darius winced. "I didn't know what I was doing," he whispered, though that was the most horrible excuse for an alpha to make. "I didn't have control."
Owen spat, actually spat, into his face. "You knew exactly what you were doing," he hissed. "And you did it anyway. You hurt me! Physical hurt, Darius, not just emotional! And then you lied to me, made me think I loved you–"
"We do love each other!" Darius protested, reaching out for Owen's hand.
Owen yanked it away before Darius could even touch. "You lied to me," he repeated in a deadly voice, but there were tears in his eyes. "I should have known. I should have known you weren't different. I should've known that it was all a lie."
"It wasn't all a lie," Darius pleaded. "Owen, it wasn't. I do love you, I promise!"
Owen laughed bitterly. "I know exactly how much an alpha's promise is worth," he snarled. "I hate you." He turned and walked into the bedroom, coming out a minute later with a packed bag. The efficiency told Darius that Owen had had that bag packed for a while, like he had never stopped anticipating the need to use it.
"W-what are you d-doing?" Darius stammered out.
"I'm leaving," Owen said matter-of-factly. "I'm done with your bullshit and lies. We're done, Darius. Do not follow me and do not come looking for me. If you do, I'll buy a gun and shoot your brains out."
Rooted to the floor by pure shock, Darius could only watch as Owen walked through the apartment and out the door. He stayed there kneeling on the carpet for hours.
But Owen never came back.