Page 8 of Stalker Stepbrother

You see, my rise to the top was a bloody one. I was never above doing whatever means necessary to ensure I won every fight. At the time, it was to make sure I never got hungry again.

Eventually, I realized I knew how criminals operate, so why not use that ‘knowledge’ and make money off it the legal way? That’s how I began a business in beefing up security in residential and commercial spaces.

Am I the ‘tech genius’ the press makes me out to be? Absolutely not. The secret? I pay good money to hire the real geniuses—those who actually make the tech. I just test them out from the criminal’s point of view. If I can’t find a way to override the security or take advantage of its weaknesses, then it’s good.

Finally, I had more money than I could spend in two lifetimes. But until Callie came, I didn’t know what to do with that much wealth. I love the power, obviously.

But now, I have someone to spend it on. My little girl is about to be spoiled rotten. Speaking of which…I need to get this over with so I can go home to her.

“I’ll cut to the chase. You’ve been spending money that doesn’t belong to you,” I tell him point-blank.

I see him go through various emotions. He’s red in the face and is about to lie through his teeth. What can I say? I’ve made several men “confess”, and I can tell when they’re about to throw someone under the bus just to save their asses.

“I-I don’t know what you mean, Sir. Did Maybelle tell you this? I told her I’m firing her, and she got all angry,” he stutters.

Three things I absolutely despise—people who take what’s mine, people trying to pull one over me, and people who refuse to suffer the consequences of their actions.

Bernard just did all three. Does he think me stupid just because I once lived on the streets and ate off other people’s trash? Does he believe I don’t understand this business inside out? That he’s better than me just because he graduated from Harvard and I didn’t even finish high school?

Well, then. It’s about to get messier.

I fling a manila envelope at him, and he looks like an idiot trying to catch it. He’s sweating bullets now, and his forehead furrows as he scans the documents.

“I’ve spent more time with you than I initially planned. So to cut the long story short, you’re fired effective today,” I say without emotion as I shrug into my coat. My mind is already on Callie and the dinner date for tonight.

“You can’t do that! I am a lawyer, and I remember–”

“What did you say?” I tell him, voice low. “Did you just tell me what I can or can’t do?”

“Th-that’s not…” he spits out, shaking his head. His crisp white shirt is already soaked.

I walk around the desk until I’m facing him. With a smile, I pull him up by his collar, his feet dangling inches above the floor. “You should count yourself lucky I have more important things to do than stay here and beat you bloody. You’ll hear from me soon enough because let’s admit it, Bernard, I know a dozen lawyers who can run circles around you. The only reason I hired you was because you were willing to do dirty jobs no respectable man would even think of touching.”

He’s already shaking like a leaf, and I make a show of putting him back down and fixing his now-wrinkled collar. He’s so lost inside his own head he doesn’t notice me rear my arm back and punch him square in the jaw.

He tumbles to the floor, eyes wide with disbelief and fear. His breath is bursting in and out.

“You stole millions, you motherfucker. Your wife and kids didn’t even see a dime. It all went to that 21-year-old mistress of yours. Oh, you didn’t think I knew? Your family lives in a luxury estate, sure, but you’ve been spending more on that girl you met at a bar. The penthouse, pink Porsche, designer bags, trips to the Caribbean.”

I grab my phone and slip it into my pocket before glaring at him. “I don’t give a shit who my employees want to fuck, but when you steal from me, it’s a different story. No one crosses me. No one lies to me. No one touches what belongs to me. Do you know what happened to the grown man who tried to take my bread when I was just ten years old? He ran away screaming after I stabbed him in his groin, blood gushing out.”

He continues to slump on the floor, probably thinking about how he’s gonna break it to his girl. Well, not my problem. He dug this hole for himself.

“Get the fuck outta here. If I ever see your face again, I won’t hesitate to bury you alive. I’ve done that so many times, I could do it in my sleep and use nothing but my hands to dig your grave.”

* * *

Decidingto surprise her for her official first date, I go to the most exclusive, high-end store in the city. I’ve never stepped foot in this place before today. But when the shop assistant asks me what I need, I hand her Callie’s old dress and underwear so she can find something that will fit her.

The girl’s eyes widen as she flicks her eyes from the clothing items in her hands to me, probably wondering if I was joking or pranking her.

“She has blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair. Her shoe size is 7. She’s a little short, doesn’t come up to my shoulder. Show me everything you think will show off her delicious round ass,” I nod to let her know she better hurry up or I’ll head somewhere else.

For the next half hour, I choose around a dozen dresses that have everyone—from the manager to the other assistants—sending me off bowing and thanking me profusely. It has everything Callie will wear tonight—lingerie, heels, dress. They even threw in a “free” sexy nightgown.

Good service. I’m thinking of bringing her here next time.

When I arrive home, Callie’s drinking coffee and watching TV in the living room. Legs tucked in under her, brows drawn together, nostrils flaring, mouth falling open. I turn to look at what she’s watching, and it takes me five seconds to realize it’s a true crime documentary.

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