Sinful Obsession: My Billionaire Stepbrother

Dinner at the Manor

~Isabel~

The ride home was a silent, The moment the car stilled, I bolted out, fervently needing the scalding spray of a shower to scrub away the office grime and the lingering weight of William’s presence.

For a few minutes, the steam let me forget the marble mansion I now lived in.

An hour later, a soft knock signaled the arrival of Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper. She brought a shimmering blue silk dress as a gift from my mother for tonight’s formal dinner.

Sliding into the fabric felt like a cold, expensive second skin.

It wasn't to my taste at all, but I wore it just to make her happy, I had to keep the appearance of a united family just because I needed this internship opportunity to fund my law degree.

Downstairs, the dining room was an arena of clinking silverware and my mother’s strained, melodic laughter.

I picked at a piece of sea food that tasted sweet, the silk blue dress tightened around my body with every shallow breath I took.

"You're very quiet, Isabel," Arthur noted, the kindness in his voice boomed through the tension.

"William, are you working her too hard already?"

William didn't look up from his plate of food.

"She’s learning the pace. Sterling Global doesn’t slow down for anyone."

"She’s always been a hardworking girl," Mom interjected, her eyes silently begging me to play the part of the grateful debutante.

"Back in New York—"

"New York is a world away from here, Sarah," William interrupted.

His voice dropped hard and dark as his gaze finally lifted, dragging slowly from my throat to my eyes.

"Isn't it, Isabel?"

"A lifetime away," I managed, my throat throbbed multiple times as I forced a small smile.

When the second dessert ended, I left without wasting pleasantries.

I took the stairs two at a time, badly needing to shed this costume and find Isabel Mayfield again—my real self.

I was halfway down the dim hallway of the rooms when a hand erupted from the shadows.

A firm grip latched onto my arm, hauling me backward into a darkened doorway. I gasped to scream, but a palm clamped over my mouth, smelling of perfume and expensive soap.

"Shh," William hissed against my ear.

He pressed me into the cold stone wall with his body.

His chest was a solid wall with so much heat pressed against mine.

A ray of moonlight caught the hard line of his jaw.

He retracted his hand but stayed inches away, pinning me with his shadow.

"Let go," I whispered.

"You look ridiculous in this dress," he murmured,

"It’s a costume, just like the one your mother is wearing. You're here for the money, aren't you? My mother spent twenty years building this wealth and name, while yours was likely scouting her next wedding ring to pawn."

"You don't know a thing about us," I snapped, shoving against his chest. It was like trying to move a mountain.

"I know exactly what you are." He moved his hand to the side of my neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive skin behind my ear. "A Mayfield. All gold-digging ambition, you think you can sit in my mother’s chair and inherit a life you didn't earn?"

"I’m not trying to inherit anything!"

"Then why stay? Why are you here?"