Wanted: Big Bad Brother: A Billionaire Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

by Knight, Natalie

  Oh my God, if Lindsay's already seen it, that means most of the world probably will before long.

  "You saw my video?"

  "I'm afraid I have. Babe, I'm so sorry. Listen, I know it's not true and I know everyone else will think that also."

  The truth hits me like a ton of bricks. Lindsay's trying to be nice, and she's trying to soothe me, but the fact is people are definitely gonna think I have an STD from now on.

  I mean, I know it’s a serious thing. I know people suffer from this every day. I’m not making light of it. But this could effectively ruin my career for the types of jobs I want to go for. I’ll always be known as the STD video girl.

  Every time a new casting director Googles my name this is gonna come up. I will never escape this vicious shoot. I will never live it down.

  "Lindsay, I think I've just committed career suicide and I didn't even know what I was doing. I thought the video was for something else entirely. I didn’t say what it looks like I said. They've edited this to make it look like I really have an STD. I'll never have a normal life again."

  "It's okay, Allie. There's a way around this. You just have to figure out how to clear your name."

  She's trying to be a good friend, and she really is, but despair still washes over me.

  "I know you're right, Lindsay, but at this point, I just want to stay in my house and be a hermit forever. How can I show my face around town again?"

  "You can do that, Allie," she says supportively. "You have every right to just lay low for a while. But trust me, this thing is gonna blow over. It's not gonna haunt you forever. And besides, nobody watches these boring old videos anyway."

  "Thanks so much, Lindsay,” I say, but I don’t feel any better.

  "Okay, sweetie, call me if you need anything. And I'll call and check on you."

  I make an attempt at a joke. "Can you pick up my groceries and dry-cleaning forever?"

  We both laugh but I'm gonna be staring at a lot of delivery menus, this I know for sure.

  Lindsay says what only a good friend would.

  "I will seriously do that for you. If you feel like you can never leave the house again, I will be your personal slave and make sure you have everything you need."

  At least that gets a laugh out of me. "Thank you. You're always there for me."

  At least I have one person in the world that I can count on. I don't know how this happened, but I have to get to the bottom of it.

  For now, I decide to sulk. I play some moody music that has a sense of melancholy and I lick my wounds.

  I'm going to take a long, hot bath and pretend that this day never happened. At least in this moment, here in my own space, I can imagine that this never happened.

  I let the water run and my tears fall. There's no holding back this rush of emotion. I feel betrayed but I'm not sure by who. Did my agent do this? Or was it Xavier?

  How is it that I keep having such bad luck in the modeling world? Maybe I'm not meant to be here at all. Maybe I should've just stayed in my hometown and been satisfied with the status quo. Instead, I had to move to fucking New York City and try to make something of myself.

  Well, look at me now. I couldn't get much lower than this.

  I get into the bath and make sure there are lots of bubbles. Then I put a cold compress over my eyes and just try to disappear from the world.

  Xavier

  I always begin my day by working out. And today is a beautiful morning to be in the window-lined gym. The air is crisp and the fall weather is starting to turn.

  I've been a member at the little, exclusive gym right next to Hard Pressed ever since we opened.

  I had a vision of the kind of company I wanted to create and it's all come to life in such a short time. Our success was virtually overnight and it just confirms the fact that everything I touch turns to gold. I have the Midas touch.

  My morning workout is part of a kind of ritual that I prescribe to every single day. It keeps me steady, and it keeps me grounded, and most of all it keeps me in shape.

  I'm lifting weights and there's just the usual crowd of a few people other than me who are dedicated enough to show up here at five am. You have to be committed to your health to be here this early five days a week.

  I like to have everything exclusive and everything private in my life, and the gym is no exception. It has every amenity I could need and there's a spa attached for those really hard days when I need to unwind. It's only the best for me and even my gym must be swank.

  As I pump iron I think about Allie. I'm really having second thoughts now about the video. She's likely already seen it and that means her world must be crumbling around her.

  I try to take my aggression out on the weights but it does me no good. She's permeating every facet of my thoughts. Ever since Allie walked back into my life, I haven't been able to think of anything else.

  Even though I want to hurt her and to get her back from the past, there's something irresistible about her that I find truly fascinating. Despite the way she wounded me as a teen, I feel like she does have a good heart. She's not shown me anything but kindness, integrity, and humility since we’ve met again.

  She's not some arrogant model who feels entitled and like the world should be hers without having to lift a finger. No, that's not Allie. She is a lot more depth than that.

  So how did it all go so wrong?

  I take to the treadmill and try to sprint my way out of it. I feel truly bad for what I did to her and yet part of me feels like it was necessary.

  I run and I run and I run, trying to escape the pain of what I've done. The STD video has gone viral just like I anticipated. And it was me who did it.

  Suddenly I feel like I'm not much better of a person then Allie was in high school. The hatred I bear towards her is starting to fade and I see myself as a vile creature.

  Not even the toughest workout can erase this.

  I shower and leave the gym to hit the coffee shop that's conveniently located right next door. Everything in my life is in order. I'm at the height of my career, in the height of my life. And yet by hurting Allie, I feel like I've gone so wrong.

  I take my triple shot latte to the Hard Pressed headquarters next door.

  I walk into the building and nearly everyone says hello to me. I'm the boss and the CEO and that affords me respect, whether earned or not.

  If any of them knew what I did to Allie and how I pushed that STD video on her, well, I'm not sure I'd be getting such friendly greetings this morning.

  I take the elevator up to the top floor where I occupy the entire penthouse as my office. My secretary checks in and gives me a list of things I need to get done today.

  "Thank you, Tricia," I say to her. "Can you please bring me my protein shake?"

  "Sure, Mr. Armstrong. Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."

  I don't know why I even have to ask. I have the same thing every day and she should know it. I think it's time to find a new secretary.

  I'm in a brooding kind of mood. The gym did nothing to take my mind off Allie. And the idea that I've ruined someone's entire life doesn't feel so good. I definitely thought I'd gain more satisfaction from this but all I feel is guilt and blame.

  I take my phone to text her and think about maybe trying to smooth this whole thing out. But I just can't do it.

  I log onto my computer and find the video to see how many views it has by now.

  My God, the numbers have nearly doubled. Over 1 million hits already.

  I wonder how Allie's feeling? I imagine she hasn't left her apartment and I imagine she's shed a lot of tears over this. That thought should make me so happy. But instead, I feel like less of a man.

  Fuck. This is how she got me to fall in love with her before. She has a sparkling personality. But if that was so true how could she have been so cruel before?

  I reach again for my phone thinking maybe I can text her and we can meet. Maybe I can explain to her what happened and we can
go about fixing it. Every time I see her name flash on my phone, though, I'm just reminded of the past and what she did and how she hurt me.

  I keep feeling like she doesn't deserve success. She doesn't deserve me to help her. She needs to be permanently scarred like I was. I wonder how many other guys she marred with her awful secrets?

  I sit at my desk and ponder the day. I have a lot to do but part of me feels like I have to see Allie. Being with her makes me just want to fuck her into oblivion. I long to possess her and for her to have eyes only for me.

  I simultaneously hate her and desire her. These feelings are confusing and they torment me. Normally I don't care about women very much. But something about Allie is the same as the girl I thought I knew in high school. The girl who wouldn’t do what she did to me.

  I used to be in love with her, I think, because not only was she beautiful but she was nice too. And I'm seeing that as she's changed into a woman, her heart is the same. And it's a heart I've officially hurt by releasing that video.

  Things are not adding up in my mind and I don't understand how I've arrived at this point.

  I decide at the very least I need to see her. Otherwise, she'll be on my mind all day and I'll have this inner battle of whether to text or not.

  I write to her and ask if she'll meet me at the coffee shop below the building.

  Her response is expected.

  I want to but I'm just too devastated. Have you heard about what happened? I don't want to show my face around town. How could you have done this to me?

  Okay, so she knows it was me. I'm going to have to weasel my way out of this. I'm not ready for her to know my true identity just yet.

  Just jump in a cab and come down here. No one will even see you. I need to talk to you.

  There's no response and I know she's probably sitting there thinking about what to do.

  I picture it and decide to push her farther.

  Please, Allie, it'll be worth it. Besides, I know you can't resist some espresso this early in the morning.

  If I cared about her at all I should really be the one bringing her coffee. I should really be nurturing her wounds and helping her through this.

  Instead, I'm the one who caused all this. I'm just not that guy she needs to comfort her.

  But I still want to see her.

  After a long silence, my phone finally beeps again.

  Okay, Xavier. I'm gonna meet you but then I'm coming right back home.

  Yes, at least I've got her coming out of the house a little bit. Seeing her will take the edge off my inner torment. Maybe I can sort through these opposing feelings.

  Now I just have to figure out exactly what I'm gonna say to her.

  Allie

  I haven't left my house for several days and if it was up to me I would never leave. I've given myself over to the fact that I either need to be a hermit in this town or I need to move.

  The problem with the video going viral is that even if I move, people will know me there too. This is the worst thing that could've ever happened to me. I've become a meme and tons of people are making fun of me. Not only is it ruining my life, but it will forever ruin my career.

  Just when I thought things were gonna start looking up, this had to happen. I thought I was gonna start booking shoots with my new agent and that everything would be fine. Now I feel like life cannot be more bleak.

  My agent did me wrong. I fully blame him and at this point, and I'm kind of missing the days of working with Cheri. She might've been a slime ball but at least she wouldn't have set me up for an STD video shoot.

  Who is this guy Harry anyway? I find myself thinking that I'm a little bit too naïve. Here I am in NYC all by myself trying to forge ahead in one of the most demanding and competitive careers in the world. And now I have been beaten.

  And to top it all off I don't have proper representation moving forward. I trusted Xavier when he moved me away from Cheri.

  Xavier seems so domineering and like he has his life in control. I guess I was hoping he would put my life in control too. This is just another example of how I leaned on him too much when I should've kept my guard up.

  Ultimately, I've learned that I can only rely on myself. I can't trust anybody to do anything for me. I need to do my research on agents and all future jobs. Of course, that is if I even book any future jobs.

  At this point, I can't imagine a single casting director taking me seriously. This video has exploded over the Internet. It's not some little thing that everyone's ignoring. It's made a firestorm and I don't know how all of that has happened so quickly.

  Xavier's texting me and asks me to meet him for coffee. I don't want to go at all. And I don't know why I even agreed.

  In the end, he's still so hard to say no to. Even though I'm upset with him I'm not one hundred percent sure that he was behind this awful shoot. And I can't place blame where blame doesn't belong. I will have words with him, though, about how I got into this mess. I need to see if he was behind it at all.

  He's a bad boy for sure. And he's a player. At this point, I don't expect to ever be his girlfriend. But I don't think he is capable of malintent. Underneath it all, he must have a good heart.

  This terrible shoot must've had nothing to do with him. At this point, I'm just blaming my agent Harry.

  I drag myself out of bed and away from the TV where I've been binge-watching Netflix. My apartment's a mess, with takeout food everywhere and bottles of wine.

  Lindsay's been a true friend and she's brought me in all the groceries and everything I need so that I don't have to show my face around town. I'm just not ready for that yet.

  If anyone walked in on me now it would certainly look as though I don't have my life together. And that's how I feel inside so I guess this apartment is just a reflection of that.

  I take a shower and try to pull myself together. I am about to see Xavier, after all. He's so hot and I don't want to disappoint him by looking like a slob.

  I pull on some jeans and a tank top and then I wrap my hair in a scarf and put on some huge oversized sunglasses to disguise my face as much as possible.

  I've even considered dying my hair a dark shade of brown so that I will be further unrecognizable. But for now it's still blonde and that will still draw attention to me.

  I duck into a cab quickly and so as not to be noticed. The driver takes me to the coffee shop which I see is right next to Hard Pressed . How convenient that is for Xavier.

  A nice guy and a true boyfriend would've come to me. Instead, he dragged me all the way downtown to a spot that was convenient for him.

  Maybe he's concerned and trying to get me out of the house. I don't know but I'm about to find out.

  I arrive at the coffee shop and get out, trying to hide my face the whole time.

  There are a few snickers and I realize my disguise may not be the best. At the counter, I order my latte. The person working stares at me like she's seen me someplace before, even though the large glasses are covering half my face.

  "Hey," she says. "Are you that girl from the video?"

  I feel my cheeks flush a burning red.

  I say, "What video?"

  And then I scurry to a table all the way at the back corner. This is worse than I thought. People can recognize me even with the so-called disguise on. I never should've come out.

  I'm hiding in the back and then I see him walk in. Every time I see him my heart skips a beat and my stomach drops a little. He makes me feel nervous and yet it's a delightful kind of nervous feeling.

  I’m so attracted to him. I feel like it’s because he has this aura of authority and power. Plus, he's pure muscle.

  As much as I want to hate Xavier and blame him for this I just can't. He's so fucking gorgeous.

  He looks around and sees me in the back.

  "Hiding in the back, are we?" he asks, smiling.

  "What else am I supposed to do?" I say. "Even the people here recognize me."

  He sits down and th
e waitress comes over to take his order. She's staring at me and trying to suppress laughter I can tell. It's so humiliating.

  "Allie, I'm glad you're here. It took bravery to come out like this."

  "Yeah, well, I have a bone to pick with you anyways," I say. "You're the one who set me up with that agent Harry. And he's the one that booked me for that video without telling me what it was about. I don't know who to blame, you or him."

  He looks at me thoughtfully like he has something on his mind that he wants to say.

  "No, Allie, I had nothing to do with it. I'm sorry for setting you up with that guy Harry, but he really seemed to have your best interest in mind. Maybe he thought this video will give you exposure," he says as his coffee is delivered.

  "Exposure? I got exposure all right. A little too much of it. Don't you see that my career is over?" I say angrily at him.

  He flicks a pack of sugar and pours it into his coffee while saying, "Over? Now that's a little dramatic, isn't it? I don't think it's a career-ending move to have a public safety video out with your name on it."

  Why is he trying to spin it like this? He's obviously seen the video and was probably laughing at it himself. It's nothing like a public health video. It's just a humiliating interview where it looks like I have an STD.

  I take off my glasses and stare into his face. He looks back at me intently and again there is that electrifying connection between us. It's something that can't be denied. I've never felt this way with any other guy.

  "I do want to say, Xavier, that I'm sorry about how drunk I got the other night. I never meant to let it get that out of hand."

  He smiles at me. "Were you drunk? I didn't even notice."

  He's lying, of course. He knew how trashed I was.

  "Well, I'm also sorry that I snuck out of your place before you woke up in the morning."

  "Yeah, I noticed that," he says. "Are you a runner?"

  What could he mean a runner?

  "A runner?"

  "Yeah, someone who runs away from commitment. You like to escape," he says.

  Well, that's fresh coming from him. He's a playboy and he knows it, so I don't know why he's calling me out. A least I had the decency to apologize.