Page 6 of Claimed By my Stepbrother
It’s just after noon, so I have time before I need to get ready for the ridiculous dance recital this evening. I reach out to my contacts, leaning on them for any useful information about the Lombardis.
Disgusted with the lack of momentum on the situation, I decide to check on Preppy, and I make my way to the geek cave. I knock, but he doesn’t answer, so I wait for a few moments before pushing the door open and walking in to sit in the plush gaming chair beside him.
He’s focused on the screens in front of him, and his fingers fly over the keys. Images flash by quickly, and I’m not sure how he’s able to focus on what he sees. A dialog box appears in the corner, and I realize that he’s written a code that sorts through the images somehow.
I watch, fascinated, for a long time, afraid to interrupt his genius at work. I know he’s feeling pressure to prove his value by finding information—we all are—but Preppy is relatively new and still questions his place. We both know Uncle Arman will find it unacceptable if he doesn’t have anything useful by tomorrow.
When his leg starts bouncing mindlessly, I realize it’s been hours without him barely batting an eye. “Let’s go get dinner. I’m starving,” I suggest, standing.
“Huh?” Preppy asks, still looking at the screen.
“Dinner,” I repeat, laying a hand on his shoulder.
“Oh, right. Fuck, I gotta piss, too.”
We grab food and take it up to my penthouse, putting a pre-recorded MMA match on the TV while coffee brews, and we settle in.
When we’ve eaten everything in the takeout containers, Preppy grabs a large coffee to-go and heads back to his cave with a quick farewell. I start cleaning up from dinner trying to postpone the inevitable.
I finally force myself to jump in the shower at the last minute, throwing on a teal button-down and faded black jeans with my signature black leather jacket, ultimately rushing to get out the door in time to make it before the recital starts.
Chapter four
Feel the Beat
Knox
Adrivethattakesaround fifteen minutes on paper takes me nearly thirty in the Las Vegas traffic. Even at this time of night, it’s never not busy. I find the school and drive through rows of spaces looking for somewhere to park. Finally, I cut in front of a Prius waiting for a spot, slamming on the brakes, and just sit there for a moment, preparing myself for a torturous couple of hours.
I get out of my Jeep and follow a few people toward the entrance. Walking into a school again feels strange, even though it’s only been a year since I was there every day. I stop in front of a trophy case, looking at the crowning achievements of glory days that will sustain the winners through mediocre lives.
The halls echo with voices moving farther away from me. Turning, I see some signs with directions to the auditorium posted on both sides of the hallway. I start to follow them, already regretting my agreement to come.
The scent of buttery popcorn wafts through the air as excited chatter gets louder, letting me know I’m getting closer to my destination. I round a corner and take in the little theater lobby. Families—I assume they’re families because who the fuck else wants to come see a high school dance recital?—mill around the room, purchasing overpriced concessions at a long table from pimple-faced drama geeks wearing black t-shirts with “Volunteer” proudly printed on the front.
In front of propped-open double doors is a glass ticket window. A hand-painted sign is displayed on the window, demanding ten dollars—cash only—for admission.Goddammit, Rowan. I clench my jaw, biting back a groan of frustration. Of course, he didn’t tell me I had to pay to get in.
The ten bucks isn’t even on my radar. But, I never carry cash, and there’s no ATM ready to extort me for a withdrawal fee nearly equal to the amount I need to take out.
I’m tempted to use this as my excuse to leave. I’m exhausted, and I just want to drink a beer on my terrace, watching the Vegas nightlife come alive below me.
But, I’m already here, and I won’t hear the end of it from Rowan if I back out now after agreeing to come. I’ll be damned if I give that asshole any leverage to use against me—even something as ridiculously trivial as changing my mind about watching miserable teenagers dance on a stage.
Resigned, I realize that, at this point, it would likely be easier to charm the ticket lady into letting me in than seeking an alternative payment option.
“Ma’am, please. I promised my father that I’d be here to watch my stepsister’s performance. He didn’t tell me that I’d need a ticket, and I don’t carry cash. There’s not an ATM close enough to get back here before she’s on. Can’t you find it in your heart to take pity on me?”
While I’m not often on the lookout for companionship, I’ve never had a shortage of women batting their lashes and fighting to get my attention. Clearly, in the year since I last sought company, my charms have tarnished. The lady selling tickets seems to be immune, steadfastly refusing to let me into the auditorium without a ticket.
The music starts, spilling out into the lobby as the people in line grow impatient. I clench my teeth as the man behind me clears his throat for the second time in as many minutes. Exasperated with my lack of progress, I make an offer only a fool would pass up. “I will gladly make a donation to the school in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars if you let me into the auditorium.”
She harrumphs, obviously not believing I’ll follow through, calling for the next person in line. He moves to step around me, and I put my hand up, keeping him back. “Ma’am, please. I will Venmo you the entry fee.” She narrows her eyes at me, suspiciously.
“You don’t get in until that ten dollars is received,” she barks, writing her information on a slip of paper and motioning for me to step aside, so she can sell tickets to the rest of the people waiting.
“Thank you!” I say, frustration coloring my tone. I stand beside the window, and she watches me out of the corner of her eye, probably making sure I don’t sneak into the auditorium, depriving the school of an entry fee.
Finally, the payment goes through, and I step up to swipe the infernal ticket from under the glass partition. I quickly turn on my heel and walk through the open doors, looking for Rowan and Emilia.
