Undercover Desires

Roots

Ryland

The boardroom was filled with the usual self-important assholes dressed in overpriced suits, their gazes fixed on my mother as she took her place at the head of the table. Gabriella Johansson—the queen of this empire, always poised, always untouchable. And today, she was about to drop a bomb.

She cleared her throat, looking around the room before speaking. "I have an announcement. My elder son, Travis Johansson, will be collaborating with Johansson & Co for a new clothing line, alongside his financial advisor. They will be working within the company."

A murmur rippled through the room, and I couldn’t f*****g help it—I grinned.

About damn time.

Travis wasn’t my brother by blood. Hell, he wasn’t even supposed to be in our world. He had saved my mother’s life when he was just fifteen—pulled her out of a wreck that should’ve killed her. And what did she do? She f*****g adopted him. Not out of guilt. Not out of obligation. But because she saw him for what he was—a fighter, a survivor. A goddamn force of nature.

And me? I was just a kid back then, reeling from my father’s death, drowning in loneliness while my mother buried herself in the company. The world had turned into a cold, cruel place, and I was f*****g lost in it.

Until Travis.

He pulled me out of that dark hole of abandonment and gave me something solid to hold onto. He became my strength. My warmth. My f*****g rock when the world felt like it was caving in. We were just a year apart, but he wasn’t just my brother. He was my father figure, the one person who never let me fall, even when everything else did.

"Ry, you look like you just won the lottery," Travis muttered under his breath, over the phone.

I smirked. "f**k off. I’m just glad you’re finally here. You’ve been running your own damn empire for so long, it’s about time you brought some of that genius back home."

Travis chuckled, shaking his head. "You know I never wanted to take over this company. That was never my goal."

And that was the thing about him. He could’ve had everything—the power, the name, the legacy. But he built himself up from the ground, made a name that had nothing to do with Johansson & Co. And f**k, I was proud of him for that.

But it didn’t mean I didn’t miss him like hell.

"Still hate not having you around all the time," I admitted, my voice quieter.

His eyes softened. His words, firm and reassuring. "I’m always here, Ry. You know that."

And for the first time in a long f*****g time, I actually believed it.