by Hamel, B. B.
“Lucas,” Arturo said, “this is your new stepsister, Natalie.”
“Natalie,” he said, his smile delicious and so infuriating. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
My jaw dropped.
What was I supposed to say?
There were no words. My emotions were a bomb inside me, a roiling mess of conflicting desires.
I wanted to slap him. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to strip him down and finally feel his hard cock between my legs.
I was so fucked, so deeply screwed.
Instead of doing any of that, I turned and left, slamming the door behind me.
Chapter Six: Lucas
I watched, unable to hide my amusement, as my wife stormed out of my father’s office.
Arturo and Camille looked confused, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s funny?” Arturo asked, annoyed. “That’s your stepsister.”
“I know that, Father.”
“Well, if she’s uncomfortable, make it right.”
I nodded, grinning like mad, which only served to piss Arturo off even more.
“And don’t forget what I said to you the other day,” he added. “Settle down or else.”
Camille looked at him. “What do you mean? Lucas seems like such a sweet boy.”
If only you knew, tramp, I thought to myself as I walked past them.
“Nothing, darling,” Arturo said. “Now, let’s talk about our plans for later . . .”
I left the room, not interested in listening to some inane discussion of their celebration feast or whatever they had planned.
I jogged up ahead, turning right at the hall, and stopped as I saw Natalie leaning up against a wall, looking down at her phone.
“Hey, sis,” I said to her as I approached.
Her head snapped up. Her expression was pure hatred and anger, and it almost made my cock hard. I loved how strong-willed she was, how interesting and smart. It was dangerous, but I wanted so badly to tame her.
“You knew,” she said softly.
I held up my hands. “I promise that I didn’t.”
“You knew. You had to have known. That was why you picked me, why you wanted to marry me. It was all some elaborate prank.”
I couldn’t stop myself from grinning hugely at her, which only made her even angrier.
“This isn’t a joke,” she snapped.
“I know, I know,” I said. “Look, I promise I didn’t know who you were. Truthfully, I only found out about your mom and my dad yesterday, just before I left for Vegas.”
“So you did know.” Pure disgust. I wanted to tip her head back and bite her lip, press her up against the hardwood door and slip my fingers down against her tight cunt. I wanted to make her say my name.
“I knew about your mom but not about you.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t believe you.”
“Nat, why would I marry my stepsister? Do you have any clue how dangerous this is?”
She cocked her head, suddenly unsure. “Why would it be dangerous?”
“You don’t know what we do,” I said softly, laughing. “You haven’t heard of my family.”
Uncertainty passed across her expression, and I knew it was the truth.
The Barones weren’t exactly famous, or at least not famous in the conventional sense. But if you had any money or power in the Chicago area, or really anywhere, you had likely heard our names whispered in some dark corners. We worked hard to keep our name out of the national media, and so it didn’t surprise me that Nat had no clue who we were. But still, it was almost adorable how naïve she was.
“Mom said your dad was a businessman,” she said after a second.
“He is, in some ways.” I leaned up against the wall next to her. “But you have to be wondering about all the security.”
“I thought it was weird.”
I cocked my head at her. “Do you want to know what you’re mother dragged you into?”
“Not really,” she said, breathless, “but tell me anyway.”
“The Barones are mafia, sis. Old, powerful mafia.” I paused, grinning hugely. “Welcome to the mob.”
She stared at me for a second and then began to laugh. “Yeah, right. Come on.”
I smirked, shrugging. “It’s the truth. You’re part of the family now, in more ways than one, so you have a right to know.”
“You have to be joking.”
“Wish I were, sis. But the truth is, we’re all a bunch of violent fucking criminals around here.”
I loved watching the tiny little crack in her certainty begin to spread as she realized that I wasn’t making a joke. Finally, she looked completely defeated.
“This is crazy,” she mumbled.
“Now you understand why it’s so dangerous?”
She looked up at me fiercely. “Now I understand why you’re such a jerk at least.”
I moved closer to her, touching her hair. She didn’t flinch or move away. “Come on, Nat. I had a good reason for marrying you last night, and it had nothing to do with your mother.”
“What reason?” Her lips were slightly parted.
I wanted so badly to take her then and there. She looked like she was begging for it, her lips parted, not moving away from me. I could have easily kissed her in the shadows of the old hallway and eventually dragged her into one of the hundreds of empty rooms. But for some reason, I held back. Probably because there was a staff member lurking not too far away, and I couldn’t risk word of my relationship with Natalie getting back to my father.
“Because of this new marriage,” I said, “Arturo suddenly thinks I need to settle down. I decided to marry someone in Vegas to appease him, or at least to rub the absurdity of the whole marriage sham in his face.”
“Marriage sham?” The anger began to return. “So you married me to get back at your dad?”
I shrugged, smirking at her. “Maybe, in a way.”
“This whole thing is just a coincidence,” she said softly. “And you’re a total asshole.”
“I think that about sums it up.”
“And now I’m stuck here.”
“You can leave any time you want, sis.”
“Stop calling me that.” She looked down the hall. “Where’s my room, anyway?”
“See the guy in the suit lurking over by the window?” She nodded. “Ask him. He’ll show you.”
I could see how angry she was, but she was doing a great job of holding it back.
“So what now?” she asked. “We pretend like it never happened?”
“We can’t do that,” I said, “because you’re my wife, and I intend to keep it that way.”
She screwed up her face. “It wasn’t actually for real, right? I mean, you’re worried that your dad will find out what happened in the, uh, the limo, right?”
I reached into my back pocket, my grin practically tearing a hole in her. “Here.” I held up the marriage license. One glance and her face turned white.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she said. “No way it was for real.”
“Sorry, sis. I mean, sorry, wife. We’re married for real.”
She shook her head, pushed off from the wall, and walked away without another word. I watched her approach the staff member, and he led her away, farther into the house.
I stayed standing there, my cock absolutely rock hard, excitement swimming through my veins.
I didn’t know what it was about her. I had no clue why she got my blood up so hot, why she made me so absolutely fucking thirsty for her soaked pussy. But I loved teasing her, loved pushing her buttons, and I found that I didn’t want to stop, even if it was a very, very dangerous game.
My stepsister. My fucking wife. What a fucking wonderful mess.
As I moved to head back to my rooms, I caught a commotion back down toward my father’s study. I moved down the hall and watched Camille get hustled from the room as a few mob captains rushed in.
Frowning, I headed that way. Something b
ad had just happened; I could feel it right in my gut.
Natalie was still in the back of my mind as I pushed open the door and joined the meeting.
Chapter Seven: Natalie
I was living with mobsters.
Real, actual, live gang members. Violent criminals. Thugs.
The security suddenly made sense. The insane wealth made sense, too. I had no clue how they could live so openly the way they did, but I believed Lucas. I didn’t think he had been lying about anything he'd said.
Even though he was an absolute and total asshole.
Still, what were the chances of that? Of all the clubs in Vegas, and all the women, he picked the one I had gone to, and he chose me, the one person he absolutely never should have gone after and definitely shouldn’t have married.
Marriage. Part of me had known that it was real. Part of me understood that happened in Vegas. But most of me just wanted to deny it all, to pretend like the night was just one meaningless moment of total insanity and that I hadn’t really gotten married. But as soon as I saw that certificate, I knew it was real. I knew it had happened.
I had married my stepbrother. My very rich, very attractive, very dangerous, and very off-limits stepbrother.
What the hell was I going to do?
My room was huge.
It was probably the size of the entire first floor in my old house. I had a small sitting area complete with couches and a nice television, a full set of old wooden furniture that all looked like it belonged in a museum, flowers and plants everywhere, paintings on the walls, and this enormous four-poster bed. An entire family of four could have slept in that comfortably.
It was without a doubt the most absurd room I had ever seen. My things had already been carried up, including most of what had been in my bedroom at home. The Barones moved pretty fast and clearly ran a tight ship. I was impressed, although still pretty pissed off. Everything had happened so fast, and suddenly I was stuck in this cavernous room.
I was totally exposed. I had no clue what kind of people I was now living with. Maybe I didn’t even have any real privacy at all, and they were standing in the walls behind the pictures, watching me at all times.
But that was just paranoia. Arturo seemed to genuinely love my mom, at least based on the very tiny interaction I had seen and what she had told me. I had to think that he would treat his new stepdaughter well, even if he was a dangerous mobster.
Then again, there were so many people at the house. I’d only seen a tiny fraction of it, too. Who knew how many rooms there really were, and how many secrets.
Overwhelmed, I flopped down on the bed and blew my hair out of my face. I scrolled through my phone and found Pacey’s number.
She answered on the second ring. “Hey!”
“Hey, Pace. How’s home?”
“Fine as usual. Dad is being a dick and Mom is pretending like he isn’t. How’s your new life?”
“It’s insane, Pace. Seriously insane.”
“What’s it like?”
How could I explain it to her? “Words won’t do it justice.”
“Try.”
“It’s like an enormous mansion. Like a castle almost. And the grounds are so, so huge, and there are so many people. They’re super paranoid about security, too.”
“Really? That’s weird.”
For a second, I wanted to tell her about the Barones. I wanted to tell her that I was living with mobsters and married to the son of the leader. But I knew I couldn’t. Pacey didn’t need to know, and it was a huge risk anyway. If she told anyone and it somehow got back to Arturo and the others, who knew what he would do to my mother and me.
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “He’s just a little odd, I guess.”
“So what’s your room like?”
“Basically a cavern,” I said, and I proceeded to explain it to her. Of course, she wouldn’t understand just how expensive everything seemed and the sort of luxury that surrounded me until she saw it.
“I’m almost jealous,” Pacey said.
“Honestly, Pace, I want to get the hell out of here.” I paused, an idea hitting me. “Listen, is there any way I could come stay with you for the summer?”
There was a long pause. “You know I’d love it if you did, Nat.”
“But?”
“But it’s not a good time around the Harris household. Dad isn’t doing too hot at work, so things are pretty tight. Tempers are high and all that.”
“Okay. I understand.”
“I’m really sorry. I hate to say no to you.”
“It’s okay, really. I just hate this house already. It’s so cold and impersonal. I miss my old room.”
“I bet. I still can’t believe your mom just sold the house without telling you.”
“Can’t you, though? This sort of shit is endless with her.”
“Tell you what. How about I come visit tomorrow?”
“I would love that.”
“Text me the address.”
“Okay.”
“I gotta go. Mom is calling.”
“See you tomorrow, Pace.”
“Later.”
She hung up the phone, leaving me alone in the vast room again.
It took me twenty minutes to get outside the house.
Wandering through the halls, I couldn’t believe how absolutely huge the place was. It felt like a maze, with the same hallways constantly popping up, but I was totally unable to find any way out. My key worked on most doors, though some remained locked. Most of them were just empty bedrooms, anyway.
I had to ask directions twice before I finally found the stairs down and the door out onto the grounds. I passed a ton of people wandering around the house, though none of them paid me any attention unless I directly spoke to them. I figured they were paid staff and were used to treating the guests that way.
For my part, though, I wasn’t used to having staff. I distantly understood that I could ask them for things, but I mostly just wanted to be left alone. I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable simply being in the house, let alone bossing some poor staff member around.
Once outside, though, I began to feel a little bit better. The cool summer day was sunny and comfortable as I followed a path down through the grounds. I saw open stables with horses grazing, pens with farm animals, rows and rows of flowers, and even what looked like a small vegetable patch. I couldn’t imagine mobsters as farmers, and so I just assumed someone else had installed it all before the Barones took over the grounds.
Farther along, I came into a wooded area. The path stretched around a small lake, and the woods were very peaceful. It felt great to finally be away from all the people and the bustle. For the first time all day, I felt halfway okay.
As I walked, I found my mind suddenly straying back toward Lucas. The way he looked at me, that devilish smile, it screamed of sex and desire. He seemed like he couldn’t get enough of me. The way he reached out and touched my hair and spoke so close to me sent a rush down my spine. Despite being such an asshole, I still found myself inexplicably drawn to him.
Just like that night in Vegas. I didn’t understand it then, and I didn’t think I ever would. But he was my stepbrother now, and a dangerous one. I just needed to get along with him for the summer, and then hopefully I would never have to see any of them again.
Oh, and I needed a divorce. But one thing at a time.
I came to the end of the woods and found myself at the end of a large lawn leading back from the house. I noticed someone coming toward me, wearing an expensive suit.
I recognized him as he got closer. Lucas waved to me, and I wanted to run away.
“Hey, sis,” he called out. “Lost?”
“Not lost,” I said. “Just looking around.”
He stopped a few feet away from me and crossed his arms. “Well, how about a tour?”
“No, thanks,” I said, and walked past him.
He fell into step next to me. “What are you interested in seeing?”
&
nbsp; “I don’t want a tour,” I said. “Just looking for the pool now.”
“Come on,” he said, taking me by the arm. “This way.”
“Hey,” I protested, but he was already walking off the path. He dropped my arm and I fell into step behind him. “You can’t just drag me around like that.”
He grinned back at me. “Sure I can.”
We moved between some buildings, and I stopped in my tracks. Spread out in front of us was an enormous pool with two hot tubs and plenty of chairs set around it. Nobody else was around.
“Wow,” I said. “This is really nice.”
“It’s fine,” he said, walking over to the water. “Doesn’t get much use.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Gangsters aren’t really the type to lounge around a pool all day.”
I shook my head, annoyed. “So why even have something like this?”
He began to loosen his tie. “Because it shows off our wealth and power.”
“Seems like a huge waste to me.”
He took off his tie and dropped it over a chair. He slipped his jacket off next, draping it over his tie. “It’s not a waste. Not in our line of work anyway. Image is everything.”
He began to unbutton his shirt. “What are you doing?”
“I thought you wanted a swim.”
“I never said that.”
He shrugged, stripping his shirt off. I stared at his chest, muscular, defined, and covered in tattoos. I remembered that body well and had the crazy urge to walk up to him and touch his skin.
Or maybe I wanted to push him into the water. I wasn’t sure.
He began to unbuckle his belt.
“Stop,” I said quickly, blushing.
“What? We’re stepsiblings now. It’s not weird.” He pulled off his belt and then slipped his pants off.
I stared at him standing in front of me, wearing nothing but his tight black boxer briefs. He took his pants and laid them out over his other clothes, and then he turned back to me.
“Image is everything, Nat. Don’t forget that. We have all of this because we don’t want anyone to forget who we are and what we can do.” He stepped up to the edge of the pool and then dove in.