Filthy Dirty Secrets (Filthy Dirty Alpha) - Grace Morgan

Filthy Dirty Secrets

Book 2 in the Filthy Dirty Alpha Series

Grace Morgan

Chapter 1


I feel like I’m floating a million miles over Burke’s BDSM club tonight. I’ve been disconnected from reality ever since I saw the security tape revealing the dirty truth: Burke lied to me. He knew Hope. He fucked Hope. He was probably even the last person who saw her before she disappeared. And he lied to my face before he fucked me. He left me broken and weak. Weak because I still wanted him, and broken, because seeing Hope on that video tape made her more real to me than ever. With her thin body, and ribs showing, her huge eyes that were two dark pools following Burke’s every movement, and now she’s gone, vanished into the night after an intense BDSM session with the man I’ve grown to care about.

I’m standing on an interior balcony overlooking the shadowy lounge below. My eyes have adjusted to the dimness, and I can make out the familiar faces of workers and clients now, but no Burke, not yet. He’ll be here soon, though. He can never stay away from this place for long. This club is his baby—his entire life.

The smell of expensive vodka and even more expensive perfume drift up to where I stand along with the quiet hum of low, sensual music. I shouldn’t be up here. This balcony is reserved for the club owners, Burke and Carter, as a place to monitor the action below, but sleeping with Burke has awarded me certain privileges. The employees see me as Burke’s girlfriend, or something near to it. It gives me a lot of freedom, which I’ve happily abused in order to investigate Hope’s disappearance.

I wish I’d never requested that security tape. My relationship with Burke was so close to becoming something more, and now it’s wrecked all over again. I want to believe that this is a good thing, that I should have kept my focus on the investigation from the start, but… who am I kidding? Burke is more than just a suspect to me.


Every hair on my body stands on end when I hear Burke’s voice. I don’t turn to face him. One glimpse into those devastating eyes and I’ll crumble like a sandcastle at the first brush of the tide.

Staring out at the crowd below, I straighten my shoulders, forcing some confidence into my stance, and—I hope—my voice.

“You knew Hope,” I say, keeping my focus on a couple in the lounge below. A man and a woman, leaning close to whisper in each other’s ears. The woman wears a skimpy sequin top that sparkles in the light.

“We’ve already been over this. Just because I own the club doesn’t mean I know everyone who walks through the doors.” Burke’s fingers brush against my bare arm. I should have worn long sleeves, but all the clothes I have here are meant to help me fit in. The top I’m wearing now is sleeveless and low-cut with a necklace of linked silver rings to draw the eye downward. I need to look like I belong here, because it’s obvious that I don’t fit in. I’ve spent my life walking a hard ethical line and believing in the stark difference between right and wrong. The people here act like the line is so stretchy as to be nearly non-existent. They live in shades of gray and thrive when the lighting is low.

“And I should trust you because you’ve been so very cooperative,” I say, still unwilling to look at him. Part of me can’t even believe I’m back here. After I packed my bags and left for home, I’d sat there stewing for two days, avoiding Burke’s phone calls. But I knew I couldn’t rest until I had the truth, so here I am. Back in the lion’s den. Burke had stood against me at every turn of this investigation, all while pretending to be transparent. I’m only now beginning to see how deep his lies ran.

“Lola.” His fingers curl around my arm, and he turns me around to face him. I stare directly into those navy blue eyes that light me up like fireworks going off deep inside of me. My knees melt, and my head falls back in the expectation of a kiss.

No, no, no, I scream at my body. I’m stronger than my lust. I have to be. I pull my posture straight, but my breaths are still coming harder than they should.

“What the hell happened to you?”