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Mom said she wanted me to clean up, but I took a shower this morning, so the best I can offer is pillaging my dresser for a nicer tee shirt and a pair of jeans. Once I’ve accomplished that, I flop down on my bed and stare at the ceiling, wondering what Bianca is doing. I try not to think of her. I’ve told myself a thousand times that I won’t. But sometimes, in quiet moments like these, she slips back into my thoughts and darkens my mood all over again.
Laughter drifts up from the backyard below, and I drag myself out of bed to see who’s here. I already know it will be mostly Stefan’s friends, who are mom’s friends by default. And probably a small army of my brother’s dedicated admirers. He’s never lacked friends or girls to worship the ground he walks on. He thrives off it.
My eyes roam over the crowd, landing on him. I can tell he’s being his usual self, soaking up the limelight as he entertains. We’re only half brothers, and we couldn’t be more opposite. He’s a star football player. The storyteller and the comedian. The all-American golden boy and Stefan’s pride and joy. He volunteers on weekends and organizes fundraisers for the Tranquility Club Association’s chosen charities. He participates in school clubs and has an entire cabinet full of awards and honors. But things are never as perfect beneath the surface, and my brother’s had his fair share of problems. Mostly depression and outbursts when things don’t go his way. Mom, being Mom, handles it by throwing money at his problems while Stefan pretends everything is fine. He figured out early on that he could exploit that, and he’s been using it to his advantage ever since.
Even though we’ve grown up together, our lives have always been on completely different trajectories. In our family, he’s the sun, and I’m a shadow. He’s graduating early to take on a corporate role at Stefan’s empire of country clubs. He’s a year younger than me, and he’s got the world at his feet. I’ve never resented him for it, but I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t created some distance between us as we’ve gotten older.
Tonight, he’s got a girl at his side. Nothing new. Every girl at school has either been in his pants or is on his list. But something about this one grabs my attention. Her long black hair dips low over the curve of her back, falling softly over a white dress. It looks so fucking familiar to me. I swallow the knot in my throat just as she turns her head to the side, and I catch a glimpse of her face.
There are moments when time suspends itself. When clarity hits hard and without mercy. Our whole fucking world as we know it can implode in a single second. This is one of those moments.
As I stare through the glass, recalling a time when Bianca was mine, I’m faced with a new reality. One where all the puzzle pieces are beginning to fit. The rich boyfriend who’s going to handle the contracts at his father’s company. The business deal her father was so intent on keeping, he was willing to sell his daughter’s soul.
As it turns out, fate really is a motherfucking bitch. Because that rich douche I hated so much was my own brother all along.
And now she belongs to him.
Chapter 25
Madden
I pause at the door to the game room, the folder in my hand burning a hole in my palm. I know every intimate inch of these photos. Since Lucian obtained them for me, I’ve studied them religiously.
The blood-spattered house is imprinted on my mind. So is the gaping wound in my brother’s chest and his dead eyes staring up at the ceiling. These details have haunted my waking moments and my nightmares for five years. But have they haunted her?
I need to know. I need to see her reaction. And once I do, there will be no coming back. The only way I can keep her here is by remembering why I hate her.
I open the door and step inside. Bianca is on the couch, staring at the wall. She has nothing but time to stew in her thoughts here. And in a way, it’s like an incarceration for her. Except she has no idea how grim a real incarceration is.
Her eyes capture mine when she looks up at me, and I have to force myself not to get lost there. She already tricked me into kissing her once, and her taste is still burned into my lips. But I can’t let that happen again.
“Since you seem to have trouble remembering, I thought you could use some visual reminders,” I tell her.
Her brows knit together as she glances at the folder in my hand.
