Claimed By My Billionaire Stepbrother

Prologue

He gently ran his fingers through my hair, his lips brushing over mine in a sweet kiss. There were many sides to him, and this tender one was still new to me.

" You were shouting in your sleep again, " I said, unable to forget how tormented he'd looked. I expected him to brush it aside, but he didn't.

" I have demons Layla. Ugly shadows that refuse to let me be. "

" Tell me about them. "

" I can't. " He looked at me with so much depth. Like he couldn't see anything other than me.

" Why not?"

" Because they might scare you off. And if you leave me I'll be lost for sure. I can handle anything flower, but not having you with me will never be one of them. "

Back when he'd told me that, I had believed he was being overly dramatic. Oh! How wrong I was!

Present Day

Now I'm not one to judge. I'm a highschool dropout who pursued her crazy dream of becoming a tattoo artist because a guy I met in jail at seventeen influenced me. In other words, I excel at bad decisions. Bad decisions rule my life and I'm fine with that. But still....even I have my limits, and my mum is making it extra hard to not judge. I must have done something awful in my past life because why else would I be attending my mother's fourth engagement party in my twenty four years on this earth?

Those are four different husbands ( my dad excluded, we don't talk about him).

The grand hall smelled faintly of aged wood and citrus, aka rich people smell. But nothing could mask the stifling air of pretense swirling around the party. I stirred my martini absentmindedly, the ice clinking against the glass. Addy, my best friend slash workmate was seated beside me. She was practically vibrating with excitement, her manicured fingers wrapped around a champagne flute.

“ Your mum definitely hit the jackpot this time ,” she said for the third time, her eyes darting across the room like a kid in a candy store.

“I feel like I’m trapped in a bad soap opera,” I muttered, plucking the olive from my drink and flicking it off to the side.

Addy laughed “ Layla! What if some rich helpless person trips on that? ”

“They’ll survive,” I deadpanned, taking a long sip of my drink. My mother was at the center of the room, sparkling in a way only she could. Shiny blonde hair and blue eyes like my own. She was equal parts charm and relentless ambition. Her laugh rang out because she'd won the lottery this time around. Lucas Crest, or hubby number four, was as high on the social ladder as she'd ever climbed.

Every now and then, her high society friends would walk past me. Flashing fake smiles and not-so-subtle judgment as they greeted me. The reckless daughter, the disappointment. Their polite questions were just disguised digs. But I always made sure my answers made it clear that I didn't give a fuck what they thought.

"You look like you're doing so well for yourself," one said, her words all syrupy and fake. I wanted to gag.

" I'm thriving," I said flatly, turning back to Addy before she could press further.

Addy’s presence was the only thing keeping me sane.

I'd just grabbed my fourth drink when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned, fully expecting another one of my mum's friends, but instead, I was met with a man. No, not just a man...an fucking god.

He was tall, with dark, swept-back hair that looked too perfect to be accidental. His sharp jawline and tailored suit screamed money, while the faint smirk on his lips whispered trouble. And I kinda had a thing for trouble. His eyes, grey and intense, seemed to linger on me a second too long. Filling my head with thoughts so filthy I felt like going to confession. Then my eyes fell to his outstretched hand.

The olive.

“Lose something?” he asked, holding it out like he’d just discovered some family heirloom.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by how someone could sound like that. His voice was sinful, and I had a thing for sinning. I arched a brow. “ May I help you?”

“ This must be important,” he said smoothly, rolling it between his fingers. “You threw it with such… purpose.”

I scoffed. “And you went out of your way to pick it up? That’s either incredibly weird or tragically pathetic. Haven’t decided which yet.”

The smirk deepened, unfazed. “ Ever heard of etiquette? You don't just go around throwing things. ”

I wanted to roll my eyes, why was it always the sexy ones that turned out to be fucking weird?! Addy’s elbow dug into my side. “Who’s this?” she whispered loudly.

“Good question,” I said, turning my attention back to him. “Who are you? The olive police?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, like he was deciding whether to smile or keep up the act. “Let’s just say I’m someone who doesn’t let things, or people, go unnoticed.”

The air between us felt charged, like static before a storm. His arrogance grated, but damn if it wasn’t compelling. Curse my weakness for hot men!

“And here I thought the high and mighty had better things to do,” I shot back, taking in his watch, his shoes, and the way he wore his arrogance like a second skin. Definitely came from money. “But I guess you’re all about the small victories.”

His gaze didn’t waver, and I hated how it made my skin prickle. “ Not just small victories. Interesting ones. What's your name?"

“ None of your damn business, " I said flatly, turning back to my drink.

But he didn’t leave. Instead, he leaned closer until he was right next to my ear, his voice low and smooth. I was screaming inside, and call me weak, but I was severely turned on by this point. I swallowed hard and tried to act unaffected.

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, flower.”

“And you’ve got quite an ego,” I shot back. “Maybe find someone else to stroke it.”

Addy’s jaw dropped next to me, but Adam didn’t flinch. He just watched me, his smirk shifting into something sharper, more calculating.

“I think I’ll stay right here,” he said. “You’re more entertaining than the party itself.”

I opened my mouth to say God knew what, but Addy grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so petite. “Okay, time to go!” she said, her voice high and frantic.

“ You so wanna fuck him! " she whispered while practically dragging me away from the bar. I caught one last glimpse of the arrogant stranger as he watched us leave, his smirk perfectly in tact.

And damn it all, I hated how much I wanted to wipe it off his stupidly gorgeous face...or maybe kiss it off.