The Billionaire in Disguise

The Cost of Keeping Quiet

დ Aidan დ

She didn’t even know who I was, and yet, every time Elara opened her mouth, she spoke straight into the parts of me I had buried. I leaned against the fence post outside the shed, as I watched her boots kick up soft dust as she crossed the gravel path. Her arms were wrapped around a clipboard, with her brows pinched like she was about to explode and trying damn hard not to.

“They are sucking the life out of this town,” she muttered. “Piece by piece,” I didn’t say a word, and she looked over at me. “They came in with promises. Big ones. They said it would create jobs, boost infrastructure, bring ‘smart innovation to the rural heart’,” she mimicked a voice. Some smarmy sales pitch that someone had clearly used on her. “What they didn’t say was that four farms would die so they could get their precious slab of server towers,” I shifted my weight uncomfortably.

“Do you think they knew?” I asked. It was a valid question because, truth be told, I hadn’t known. It was just a project. One that would bring in a ton of money. Elara snorted in response.

“I don’t think they even care, which only makes it worse,” she said, and I rubbed the back of my neck as I tried to mask the way my stomach had twisted. She wasn’t wrong. When we had come up with the project, it had all been about money and what it could do for the company. The rest of it had just been by the way. Rourke Technologies was mine. My legacy. My company, and now, this was my mess. I had been there for it all. The press releases. The board meetings. The zoning acquisitions. All of it. And now Elara was so angry, like someone who had just lost something personal. Because she had. They all had. And the worst part? I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. At least, not yet. Not while I was still pretending to be some nobody named Cole.

Smart move, asshole. Fake amnesia. Lie to the one person who actually cares, and now you are sitting in the middle of the fallout from your own decisions.

“Anyway,” Elara said as she turned. “Rowan is down by the grape bins. They are a mess. If you are up for sorting, that would help,”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I got it,” Elara didn’t linger. She gave me a half-hearted smile and disappeared into the old storage shed to grab whatever she needed. I let out a slow breath and walked toward the bins. The sun was brutal. The air was heavy with ripe fruit and the sweet-sour bite of ferment. Workers were already elbow-deep in grapes, separating rot from quality, loading the good bunches into barrels. Rowan stood at the far end with his sleeves rolled up. His shirt was damp with sweat, and his jaw was tight. As always. He didn’t say anything when I joined him. He just handed me a crate and pointed to the sorting station. We worked in silence for a while. The rhythm was easy. Handfuls of grapes. Toss the bruised. Keep the plump. Shift weight. Repeat. I was starting to think we would make it through the whole afternoon without talking. That was, until he cleared his throat.

“Do you think she is ok?” Rowan asked. I didn’t at him.

“Elara?”

“Yeah,”

“She says she is,” I said. Another handful. Another toss. Keep. Toss.

“That’s not what I asked,” Rowan snapped. I finally looked at him. He was checking the grapes, but his jaw had that tick again.

“Why are you asking me? I don’t really know her all that well,” I pointed out. Rowan gave a dry laugh.

“You have been living with her for how long already,”

“And you have known her your whole life. So, Rowan, why don’t you tell me?” he didn’t answer, and I went back to tossing and keeping. Silence fell between us, and the workers around us talked about harvest projections and restaurant bookings, but it was all in the background. I focused on the grapes. The smell. The earth under my boots. I focused on everything but him and his eyes.

“What do you think of her?” Rowan then asked, and I sighed softly.

“Honestly…what is with all these questions?” I asked him curiously.

“I think she is hurting,”

“Breakups tend to hurt,” I said, and he scoffed.

“She didn’t deserve what happened with Matthew,”

“No, she didn’t,” I agreed softly.

“Do you think she is over him?” Rowan questioned after a few beats of silence. I didn’t answer him. I didn’t look at him. I could feel his eyes on me. Watching. Waiting.

“I don’t know…probably not yet,” I said slowly. That answer seemed to satisfy him. But only for a second.

“I don’t want her getting hurt again,” he said. “Especially not by someone who doesn’t know what the hell they want,” I didn’t move. I didn’t flinch.

“Understood,” I muttered. Now I understood what he was getting at. He didn’t want me making a move on her.

“I don’t know you, Cole,” he said, and the way he said my given name made my skin crawl. “And you don’t remember anything…but I have been watching you. The way you talk. The way you think. The way you move. You might not remember who you are, but you haven’t forgotten your instincts. And you…you have got a lot of them. Business. Detail. Deflection,” I froze, and he leaned in slightly. “She likes you. She has started to trust you. Don’t make me regret backing off,” then he turned and walked away. I stood there with grape juices on my hands and a sour feeling in my gut. He knew. Rowan knew. He might not know who I am, but he knew enough to know that I was lying about something. I forced myself to get back to work, and a few minutes later, Elara came in with a box of tools and a bright smile that faded when she saw Rowan had left.

“Is everything ok?” she asked as she stared out the door.

“Yeah,” I answered. It was just another lie.

“Is he ok?”

“Um…yeah, sure,”

“I think he is hiding something,” Elara then said as she set the box of tools down. My eyes went wide, but I didn’t look at her. “I think he is seeing someone,” I frowned then, because there was something in her tone of voice that didn’t sound right.

“And…?” I wasn’t even sure what I was asking her.

“I think it would be good for him to be with someone,” she said, and I finally took a chance and looked at her. She had a hopeful look on her face, and it made me wonder if she knew that Rowan felt something else toward her. Something other than sibling affection.

“Maybe you should ask him,” I said as casually as I could.

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