Page 5 of Jealous Stepbrother
I reach back for the handle, heart hammering. My fingers hesitate an inch from the cool glass.
What the hell is he doing here?
No. Worse.
What the hell am I doing here if he’s the one behind this internship?
I look around, anywhere but at him. The conference room is all sharp angles and harsh light. But inevitably, my eyes return to the lone figure, lounging at the head of a long obsidian table like he owns time itself, his palms now pressed to the shiny curves, his eyes… blue, pale, icy, familiar in a way that burns.
I haven’t seen him in four years, but the sight of him still wrecks me—this man who ruined me on the night of my nineteenth birthday.
And the reason my life fell apart after.
He stands, straightening to his full, dangerous height. “You didn’t think you got here on your own, did you?”
The room shrinks around me and the blood drains from my face. “You set this up? You… you’re the mentor?”
“No, sweetheart.” He smirks. “I’m the program.”
My pulse roars in my ears. “You set this up.”
“I created this internship. Every designer reports to me.”
“I didn’t apply to work with you.”
He shrugs. “But you did apply to House of M, coaxed by a certain professor, am I right? That’s the thing about fate, Scarlett. She’s got a twisted sense of humor, especially when you’re lending a helping hand.”
I back toward the door, throat tight. “So… you knew I was coming.”
“I made sure of it.”
It’s not pride in his voice. It’spossession.
He prowls toward me now, slow and predatory, towering and tailored in a slate gray suit that clings like the filthiest sin and sex. His sleeves are rolled just enough to reveal the ink crawling up his forearm, sharp, geometric, symmetrical.
Like him.
“You don’t get to control my future,” I say, shaking.
“But I already do.” He stops in front of me, close enough that I feel the heat radiating off his body. “I pulled strings. Called in favors. You think they picked you on merit alone?”
“I had the best portfolio in my class.”
“And I made sure it landed in the right hands,” he replies. “Mine.”
Fury slices through the panic. “You manipulated the entire process?”
He smiles, slow and unapologetic. “You wanted a foot in the door. I gave you the whole building.”
My voice cracks. “Why?”
He doesn’t blink. “Because I want you here.”
No. No, no, no.
IrealizeI’ve spoken the words out loud.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he echoes with a rough rasp. “Of course I did.” That smile, oh so slow and lethal. “I wasn’t about to let you work for anyone else.”
