Page 3 of Claimed By my Stepbrother
Thanking Giuseppe, I settle into the chilly air-conditioned car and await my fate as we drive across town. No, not my execution, though it would certainly be preferable to what I'm facing.
The car disappears into an underground parking structure, and Giuseppe navigates the maze-like path with expert precision, coming to a gentle stop right in front of an ornate gold door.
"Private Elevator" is inscribed in the metal, and I can't help but roll my eyes. The doors open silently as Giuseppe punches in a code and scans his ID badge. Holding his hand out, he gestures for me to enter before him. "Ladies first." He says it with a kind smile, and I can’t help but wonder what a nice man like him is doing working for a cretin like Rowan Valenti.
There are only two buttons on the gilded panel by the door: Lobby and Penthouse. I try, and fail, to bite back a sardonic scoff.Of course, he lives in the freaking penthouse. Giuseppe looks at me, a smile playing on his lips. His eyes roll slightly, almost as if he agrees with my assessment, as he reaches forward and pushes the gold button for the penthouse.
The elevator rises silently, moving so smoothly toward the sky that I question if we’re actually making any progress. A gentle settling motion precedes a soft ding before the doors open quickly, revealing a beautiful marble vestibule surrounding it, with four ornate doors, one on each side wall.
“Each of the Valentis inhabits a penthouse suite, Miss,” Giuseppe offers helpfully as I walk around the central elevator, taking it all in. “Mr. Rowan lives here, in the east wing.” His words have me turning to look where he’s pointing. Unable to speak, I just nod. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you settled, Miss.” I nod, again, feeling like an idiot.
Giuseppe leads me to the door, a dark mahogany wood with an intricately carvedR.V.embossed in gold. He passes his watch over a section that must contain a sensor, and the door opens silently, admitting us into an overwhelmingly gaudy foyer.
Everything I can see from where I’m standing just inside the door looks strategically flashy—cold and uninviting. Whoever said there is no such thing as too much gold clearly hasn’t seen this place. I know that Rowan is wealthy—he works for his brother who owns the Casino I now find myself living in, after all. Subtlety clearly isn’t his forte, and it looks like Midas touched every surface of this place.
Even though I’ve only just met Rowan, I know he’s bitter about working for his brother—he’s only complained about it half a dozen times. He wants to be in charge so his obvious display of wealth and power comes as no surprise to me.
I step further into the room, loathe to venture from the door should I need an easy escape. A shudder runs through me as I look around, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to remember that this is only temporary.
The living room is large enough to fit a small house in it. Two white leather sofas, each dressed with a myriad of metallic gold cushions, sit across from each other with a hexagonal white and gold marble coffee table in the middle.
The walls are painted white with gold flaking. A massive gilded plate hangs on the focal wall with two demonic looking spartans standing back to back on it. I’m not sure who thought the combination would work well together, but it’s an absolute nightmare.
“Ah, there she is.” The deep voice oozes charm, but when I turn to face him, I see the sinister grin lacing my soon-to-be stepfather’s thin lips. One arm is extended in what I’m sure he intends to be a welcoming gesture, and the other is wrapped firmly around my mother’s shoulders. “Welcome home, Sirena.”
They come to stand before me, and Mom smiles broadly, clearly excited to put her mark on her palatial new home. “Your belongings will be along shortly, Miss,” Giuseppe says, stepping back with a nod. “If you need anything—” His offer ends abruptly with an angrily quirked brow from his boss.
I turn to thank him, but he’s already opening and walking through the front door, closing it silently behind him. “Giuseppe will be available anytime you need a ride, Sirena. He knows the route to your school and dance studio.” He smiles at me, though it doesn’t reach his cold eyes.
“Come, let me show you to your room. Your mother can give you the tour after you’ve settled.” He turns, pulling Mom with him. She glances over her shoulders, her eyes widening, clearly trying to communicate something to me, but I look around as we walk through the apartment to avoid seeing Rowan’s hands on her.
Rowan leads us up the opulent staircase, rattling off facts about the horrendous artwork hanging on the walls as we walk past. “I’d like to get some French Impressionist pieces to hang here,” Mom says, gesturing to the walls. “Maybe a Manet. It would give some warmth to the space.”
Ahead of me, I hear Rowan chuckle. “I believe you mean Monet, darling. Manet isn’t considered a true Impressionist.” His tone is teasing, but I catch him rolling his eyes as he turns to look at her.
“Well, Manet—Monet. Change a vowel. It’s still art, and you knew what I meant.” Mom waves away his correction and continues telling me about the changes she’d like to make around the house. Rowan never actually agrees to anything she suggests, keeping his answers to a non-committal grunt from time to time.
“Sirena, your room is the third door on the left.” I stop in front of another ornate mahogany door, grateful that he didn’t open it and walk in. “We’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner will be in an hour. Your mother will come get you, so you don’t get lost.” I swear I can hear him mentally addor go poking around, but I just nod.
“Thank you. You have a… lovely… home.” With a final nod, Rowan pulls Mom into his side, walking her down the hall. I can hear a few giggles as I turn and walk through the door into my new room. When I hear the quiet click of it closing behind me, I immediately relax.
An involuntary sigh of relief escapes me as I take in the large space. I have somewhere I can go for privacy, to escape the critical and unsettling gaze of my mother’s new fiancé.
Intricate carvings decorate the corner posts of the largest bed I’ve ever seen, made up with silky white bedding and a golden fleece at the end. A cream leather headboard with crystal buttons rests below a sculpture of gilded angel wings. The austere gold and white theme is intimidating. I need color like I need air.I wonder if he’d let me paint the walls.
With none of my belongings here yet, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do other than sit around and decompress. But it’s going to take a lot more than the hour I’ve been granted to acclimate to this new situation. I doubt I’ll ever get used to it. I wander around the spacious room, trying to decide where I’ll put my things when they arrive.
I move to the window, looking out at the desert, wondering if I could see my house from here. From this height, the cars on the streets below look tiny and the people are nearly impossible to discern. I turn back to the room, feeling more alone than ever in the impersonal cavernous expanse.
I move to the bed, sitting on the edge. I’m relieved to find it luxuriously plush, molding to my body like a warm embrace. I was half expecting it to be silk-covered marble to match the cold, uninviting aesthetic of the rest of the apartment.
I close my eyes, pondering my situation. I want to support Mom, and I want her to be happy, but I can’t shake this ominous feeling I’ve been having since she announced her engagement. Rowan isn’t what he seems to be, and he certainly isn’t the man to make her happy. I’m not sure how, but I know I’ve got to find a way to stop their wedding.
A knock on the heavy door wakes me, and I realize that I’ve drifted to sleep. “Sirena, honey,” Mom calls out, “time for dinner.”
I wipe a hand over my mouth in case I was drooling and run my fingers through my hair before I walk to the door and open it. Mom stands there beaming at me.
“Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep,” I admit, closing the door behind me.
