Billionaire Stepbrother: Autumn (Our Forbidden Year Book 2) (2 page)

I push back the pain and use it to stoke the raging fire of anger that is quickly bubbling to the surface.

“You’re a liar!” I yell at his back, trying desperately to dam the tears that threaten to tumble down. My mind is racing. What can I say to make him turn back?

“Lex, don’t go,” I plead. The past few weeks have been a big ball of ecstasy; emotions flying everywhere, letting him do things to me I never thought I’d do. But I find myself longing and needing those touches now. We can’t be over. I can’t have been one of his playthings. I thought I was more than that to him.

It was a mistake to say it, but I said it anyway. The words fell from my mouth whether I wanted them to or not.

“Lex, I love you.”

“You mean nothing to me,” I hear him say, and the pain in my chest increases. He doesn’t look back; he keeps marching towards the elevator as if I were inconsequential, no longer worth his time.

I want to shout and declare my love to him again and again, to make him see reason, but I bite my tongue. I walk after him, my bare feet padding across the tile floor, and I keep my eyes fixed upon his retreating back.

“Lex! You can’t just leave me.” I launch into a run as he steps into the elevator, and I fully realise this is not a game; he’s not playing. This is real; this is the end, game–over.

The reflective elevator doors slide shut just as I arrive; too late to stop them closing. I prod the lift buttons frantically, but it’s no use; I’ve never been able, or allowed, to step out of this apartment since that very first night. Lex has full control over Chamberlin Tower in his father’s absence. And he is able to lock down all the security systems in the apartment; only he has access to them and only he can leave or enter.

Moments pass by as I stare in disbelief at the barrier in front of me. My reflection is distorted, warped by the metal, much like how I’m feeling inside.

What am I going to do now? I have no clothes, no way to communicate with the outside world… Lex has been my only contact for the last few weeks. Surely he wouldn’t forget that?

I notice a large dark suitcase standing upright in the shadows by the elevator.

Curious, I unzip the lid. I already know what is inside, so it’s no surprise to find all of my missing clothes that Lex had taken away, neatly folded within. He planned this, I think.

Well, at least I wouldn’t be naked anymore; I had been getting by with the silk robe and towels. Lex loved the idea of me waiting at home, naked for him. It was twisted, no doubt about that, but I loved it, too. It had opened my eyes, given me a weird sense of freedom. And since the apartment is climate–controlled, I am never really cold unless I linger on the balcony for too long.

Still in shock, I grab hold of the handle and wheel the suitcase towards my room, the plastic wheels squeaking in my wake.

Chapter Three

M
y eyelids flutter open, and I turn over to face Lex, to snuggle into his warm body, but the moment I do, the events of last night hit me like a sucker–punch, and I remember: he’s not there. There’s an empty space in the double bed where he should be, and I touch his pillow: cold.

Normality, I tell myself; I have to get back to normal. Erase the summer weeks and pretend they never happened. It’ll be the only way to move on.

I groan.

How could I have let this happen? What the hell was I thinking?

I gather up the duvet to my chest and weep into its folds. I let myself have a moment of sadness before yelling, “Get up!” But I don’t move, persuading myself there’s no reason to. My heart is crushed and with it my will.

The elevator dings, and the waterworks stop. I frown; this is all I need… I’ve lost it, gone crazy. I’m hearing things. I don’t dare move.

Footsteps echo down the hall towards my room, and I quickly wipe my face. I smile; I knew he’d come back, I lie to myself.

I bolt from the bed, whipping back the covers and launching myself at the door.

My mother’s tanned face looks back at me, and I have to blink rapidly to make sure I’m not hallucinating.

“Mom?”

“Hi, sweetie,” Loretta says and gives me a brief hug. “Are you still in bed at this hour?”

I stand mute.

“Did you forget we were coming back today? Well, never mind; aren’t you going to ask me how the honeymoon was?” She tilts her head to the side like an eager puppy.

“How was it?” I manage to reply, trying to hide my disappointment and sadness. I can’t collapse into a puddle of tears; there’d be so many questions…

“Fantastic!” she replies as she swirls around like a five year–old, spinning with her arms out wide.

“You wouldn’t believe the places we’ve been to and seen – it was a dream come true. I wish you could’ve been there.” Abruptly she changes the subject. “Is Lex here? Did you two have a good summer?” She asks, not really wanting a reply.

I nod. What else can I do or say? Not exactly the right time to let her know I’d fallen for my step–brother, who tragically now wants nothing to do with me. For that conversation, I think, there is never going to be a right or perfect time.

“Sweetie!” she screeches, interrupting my train of thought, “let me have a look at you. You’ve lost weight, haven’t you?” My mom takes my hand and twirls me around. I’m wearing a loose pyjama top and baggy bottoms that I’d found in the suitcase. The ensemble had fitted me perfectly at the start of the summer.

I shrug. I hadn’t noticed.

“You have, you look amazing! What have you been doing this summer? You’ll have to tell me your secret; bottle it up and let me have it.” She glances at her diamond–encrusted watch, “Oh, damn, we only came to drop off our cases and quickly change. We have a big charity event tonight, you see. Can’t be late,” she says, grinning with delight. Clearly my mom was made for this type of life; it suits her to a T.

She leans in close and pecks me on my cheek. “It’s good to be home,” she says and walks away without giving me another thought.

Chapter Four

N
othing feels real anymore; everything is a dull comparison to what it was like when I was with him. Food no longer appeals, and clothes are just shrouds to cover myself… I want to feel alive again but fear that it’ll never happen.

In the blink of an eye, or so it feels, I’ve been transported from one luxury apartment to another. Michael Chamberlin, my step–father, has generously set me up in a small yet tasteful flat within spitting distance of Oxford University, which I’m due to attend. But the last thing I want to do is go to school; new people, new responsibilities all mean nothing without him. It doesn’t help that Oxford is also Lex’s alma mater; each new corridor I walk down, I wonder if he’s been in that very spot.

Regardless, I force myself to go and walk zombie–like from class to class. I keep my head down and refrain from interacting with anyone. At least I manage to remember to eat, so that’s progress, right?

“You don’t talk much, do you?” A loud female voice near me in the cafeteria announces. I ignore the woman, hoping she isn’t talking to me.

“I’ve seen you about, quiet as a church mouse paying penance you are.” She shuffles closer, and I can smell her flowery perfume. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” she asks.

“I doubt it… I’m a first year,” I croak.

“It speaks!” She shouts with delight, causing everyone in the room to turn around and look at us. I blush and glance over to see the curly brown–haired girl raising her hands up in the air as if thanking a deity from above for my voice, and I can’t help but smile.

“I do know you,” she waggles her finger at me and continues, “I’m sure of it. You’re part of the Chamberlin family, now aren’t you? Emily? No Amelia. Nah, that’s not it. You’ve been in all those fancy magazines… Shit, don’t tell me. I’ll get it in a second,” she chatters excitedly while she knocks her palm against her head.

“Aimee!” she says, and I nod. She sticks out a long, manicured hand, and I take it. “I’m Phoebe Kildare, nice to meet you. I’m in second year.”

Phoebe is like a breath of fresh air that shakes me awake. Her energy courses through my life, making it bearable to breathe again. And although her constant chatter often stings my ears like a brittle wind, I wouldn’t have made it through my first week of Uni without her; at least now I’m not thinking of Lex every minute of the day… maybe every five minutes, instead.

“So, spill. Dish the dirt; I want to know everything. What’s it like being a part of one of the richest and most powerful families in England? Is it true what the magazines say about Alexandre?”

My ears prick up at the sound of his name. “What do you mean?” I ask, thinking the worst. No one knows, surely he wouldn’t have told anyone?

“Well, that he’s a bit of a womaniser, a playboy?” She reaches for her bag, pulls out a trashy tabloid magazine and smoothes the pages over. I frown at her. “Don’t judge me, these things are fantastically entertaining; you know, a bit of light reading after studying the controversies of Voltaire.”

“Ah, here it is,” she says, pointing to a dark photo of Lex with a girl practically sitting on his lap, wearing a non–existent skirt, her arms draped around him and her head buried, kissing his neck.

I bite my lip and sit on my trembling hands. “When was this taken?” I ask. Do I really want to know?

“Er,” Phoebe reads the caption below the photo, “Last Saturday night at Club Empire. I’ve always wanted to go.”

Three whole days. He moved on in three whole days, I think. I stare at the photo; he’s happy, smiling directly at the camera as he gets his neck nibbled. Or is he faking it? I try to will the tears to go back, but it’s too late, and they trickle down my cheeks.

“Are you OK? Oh, god, that’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not. Look at you. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Phoebe lifts me from my chair, quickly wiping my eyes with her thumbs. “We can’t let them you see you cry, there’s always someone with a bloody camera around here.” She guides me out of the cafeteria like I’m a fragile doll, away from prying eyes.

Chapter Five

W
e sit in my living room apartment, and I can tell Phoebe is dying to know more. She stares at me with anticipation as she hands me a tissue for my smudged eyeliner.

“So. What was all that about? I know, I know, we just met, but if you need to talk, you can; my lips are sealed.” She motions as if to lock her lips with her fingers.

I stare at the wooden flooring, then up at her concerned face. It’s such a bad idea trusting someone within two minutes of meeting them, I think, but if I don’t share my thoughts with at least one person, and soon, I’m going to be a wreck.

“It’s OK, I understand… There’s no pressure; if or whenever you’re ready, I’ll bend an ear. Now, what we need are beers and ice–cream!” Phoebe smiles and gets up to investigate my fridge.

I feel the muscles in my body relaxing, and I breathe a sigh of relief; I can’t let go of the secret between Lex and me, at least not yet… it’s the only thing I have left of him.

Phoebe comes back to the couch armed with a couple bottles of ice–cold beers, two spoons, and a tub of decadent, creamy naughtiness.