Claimed By My Billionaire Stepfather

EPISODE 4

ALARIC.

Ah, s**t. What in the hell…

I didn’t sign up for this s**t.

I watched Aurelia’s figure stagger away from the ballroom, her form stiff and shoulders before the glass doors swung shut behind her. I didn’t need anyone to tell me what was happening. I’d seen enough people, had many enough episodes on my own… to know a panic attack from a mile away.

I hesitated. Should I go after her? Or stay and fix this ridiculous scene Claudia had let spiral out of control?

Fuck.

She’d have to wait. I had a deal to keep up with.

I sighed, my jaw clenching, and reached out to grab Claudia by the waist before she could lunge at that woman…Sasha? Shanice? f**k if I cared.

Sasha looked ready to claw Claudia’s face off but then her eyes flicked to me. She instantly smoothed her expression and gave me a pitying smile.

“I suppose you’re rethinking the marriage now,” she said sweetly, mock sympathy dripping from her voice like honey laced with poison.

I gave her a long, cold look, then turned sharply, cutting her off mid-sentence before she could say another word. My fingers dug into Claudia’s arm as I practically dragged her out of the ballroom. She stumbled in her heels, cursing, but I didn’t slow down.

The moment we stepped outside, camera flashes exploded in our faces. The paparazzi were like vultures, snapping, shouting, clawing for reactions.

“Mr. Whitmore! Over here!”

“Mrs. St. James, is that blood? What happened inside?”

“Is it true you hit someone?!”

I ignored every single one of them and we soon reached a secluded part where the car was waiting. I dumped her inside the car, and leaned over, my jaw tight with barely restrained fury.

“You’re screwing this up.”

She scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. We had a deal. You were supposed to keep things civil. Smile. Charm. Play your f*****g part, like you told me to do. Not throw punches and create a scene.”

“She started it,” Claudia hissed, folding her arms across her chest like a petulant child. “You didn’t hear what she said to me. You think I was just gonna stand there and let her…”

“I don’t give a f**k what she said,” I snapped, cutting her off again. “You made it worse. You were supposed to help control the narrative tonight, not blow it to hell. Now you’ve made everything worse. What do you think is gonna make the headlines tomorrow? That you stood up for yourself? No. They’ll paint you like a crazy woman from a disgraced family and me like a stupid man too desperate to see it.”

Her face twisted. “Oh, please. Don’t act like I’m the only one with something to lose.”

I leaned in, voice low and cold. “Let me make something very clear. I don’t want to be in this joke of a marriage a second longer than necessary. The only reason I’m tolerating this circus is because I need it to serve its purpose. If you keep messing up like tonight, if you make this a regular thing, I’ll hold back on my end of the deal. And believe me, Claudia, you’ll feel it more than I will.”

Her eyes widened slightly, jaw tightening. She knew it was true as hell and her lips parted as if to speak, but I was done. I leaned back and tapped the car twice, and the driver started the engine.

“Take her back to St. James Estate,” I said curtly and slammed the door shut before she could say another word. Then I turned and walked away as the car pulled away into the night.

I then paused for a second, pulling in a deep breath to cool the rage still simmering under my skin. Then I dug into my coat pocket and pulled out my phone.

I opened the tracking app.

Aurelia’s dot blinked steadily a few blocks down, not too far. She was at a bar.

Of course she was.

I ran a hand down my face, both annoyed and, somewhere deep down, concerned. That girl…nah, she wasn’t a girl. That woman… she was something I couldn’t figure out. Quiet one moment, sharp-tongued the next, but clearly unraveling from all this faster than anyone cared to notice.

Annoyed yet anticipating having to do this, I stepped toward the curb and hailed the first cab I saw.

“Take me to the Rosewater Bar,” I said and slipped inside.

——-

I spotted her the moment I walked into the bar. Her brown hair was twisted up into some kind of messy knot that looked like it was barely holding together. Loose strands framed her face, and the dress she wore dipped low in the back, revealing the gentle slope of her spine. She looked like trouble. The kind I needed to constantly warn myself off of.

The bartender was grinning at her, leaning in a little too close, his eyes locked on her chest as she talked. He probably thought he had a chance. He didn’t. Not in all the hells.

I walked up slowly, and the second he noticed me, I shot him a chilling look that made him take a step back. He mumbled something about checking on another customer and all but scurried off. I took the stool beside her.

“Are you even legal to be drinking?” I asked as a greeting, already knowing the answer.

She didn’t even bother to look at me at first. Just tossed back the rest of her shot like it was water. Then she turned, her eyes sharp and annoyed.

“I’m 23, asshole. And you’re a prick.” She slurred slightly.

I raised a brow but said nothing. She reached for another shot, fingers steady despite the heat in her cheeks.

I signaled to the bartender. “Whiskey. Neat.”

She turned again, this time fully, and jabbed her finger into my chest. My brows shot up.

“Don’t play games with me,” she hissed. “I don’t know what kind of hold you’ve got over my mom, but I’m going to figure it out. And when I do, I’m getting her away from you.”

I stared at her. For a moment, I almost laughed. The fire in her voice, the certainty, it would’ve been cute if it wasn’t so wrong. Her mother needed this marriage more than I did.

She then added, “And I’m not a f*****g child.”

No. She wasn’t. Gods, if I didn’t know that already.

Her face was flushed, from the alcohol, making her rosy and drawing attention to her pouty lips. Her hazel eyes sparkled, wide and furious. That low-cut dress clung to her in ways that was positively sinful, showing her curves that I had no business looking at. But with the way she constantly shifted in her seat, it was a struggle not to notice and stare.

Aurelia leaned back with a sigh and downed her drink. I looked away, feeling that familiar stab of guilt churn low in my gut. She might be an adult, but I had almost twenty years on her. That counted for something. It should’ve been enough to deter me. It would normally, but her…

We sat in silence, nursing our drinks.

After a while, I pushed a glass of water toward her. “Drink this.”

She groaned. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

She sipped it, muttering under her breath, and I waited till it was empty before I got up, saying, “Come on. Time to go.”

“Ugh, you’re so bossy,” she said, pouting, but didn’t resist as I helped her up.

The feel of her against me, warm, soft, close, was like stepping too close to a flame. I tried to ignore it and pretend it didn’t have an effect on me as we made our way to the elevator.

As soon as the doors slid shut behind us, she turned and pressed herself up against me. I froze.

Her fingers trailed up the side of my face, lightly brushing my jaw. Her breath was warm against my cheek.

“I’m not a child,” she whispered, softer this time.

I swallowed hard, cleared my throat. “I know.” I rasped out.

Her hand stayed on me, exploring and light. “Do you know,” she murmured, “you’d been my crush for the first 17 years of my life or so. I used to save your pictures from the internet, hang them in my room. Put little hearts around them like some lovesick idiot.”

What. The. f**k. My jaw clenched. Heat stirred low in my belly. I looked away.

“Why are you telling me this?” I rasped. Didn’t she know how hard it already was to ignore her?

“I don’t know,” she said simply. “Or, wait. Maybe I do.” She looked up at me with those wide hazel eyes, full of something dark and dangerous. “I want you to f**k me.”

I went still. Was I even breathing? “What?”

She leaned closer, her lips brushing the edge of my lips. “I said, I want you to f**k me.”

I pulled back slightly, heart hammering in my chest. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me, Aurelia.”

She searched my face, her voice low but steady. “Are you in love with my mom?”

Silence stretched between us. She pressed again. “Is your marriage even real?”

I hesitated. Then finally said it. “No.”

Her eyes softened. She stepped even closer, her chest against mine, her voice breathless. “Then f**k me. Please.”

I was torn, my mind screaming one thing, my body screaming another. But the truth was, I’d already lost this war the moment she walked into that bar. My self control had only been humouring me.

“s**t,” I muttered and pressed my finger against a button and the elevator shifted directions.

I leaned down and captured her lips, and she responded immediately, the heat and taste of her mouth making me groan like a parched man finally tasting water.

Then the elevator opened a few floors up.

To a private suite.