Takeover: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Book 1) (19 page)

But I expected Bennett trickery. I braced for beatings and tried to forget the humiliations.

But movies? Popcorn? A pledge to ensure my safety?

Something didn’t add up.

My eyebrow perked.

Not all the Bennetts were thrilled with Darius’s plan.

Reed didn’t touch me. Max hadn’t approved.

Only Nicholas dared to act. He eagerly waited to take me, fuck me, breed me. He murmured those sordid words into my ear just to watch as his stare unraveled my barest threads.

I didn’t realize it before.

My step-brothers were monsters, but what if I could twist my newfound family from my captors into my rescuers?

Nicholas already agreed to search for the evidence I needed to prove my father was murdered. What would I get out of Reed and Max?

I obeyed them without a protest, changing and returning to the theater just in time to offer them a pitiful little cough. Reed lunged over his seat to get me another blanket. Max fumbled with a bottle of water. Nicholas ripped open the prescription bag to find my inhaler.

I hid my excitement with another sad cough. They leapt to my aid.

These men, my step-brothers, weren’t just my future rapists.

They would be my allies.

Even if they didn’t know it yet.

***

They didn’t hurt me. At all.

For five days, I recovered and just…hung out with my step-brothers. Between their trips to the city and appointments, jobs and company events, they’d catch a movie with me, play a game, or sneak me desserts.

It was like it a perfectly normal…family.

They didn’t touch me. No one threatened me. I wasn’t scared.

No one kissed me, despite the dreams that woke me in a frustrated heat.

I camped out on a leather recliner, hidden away in Max’s theater sanctuary. One of my step-brothers managed to baby-sit me at all hours, either so I didn’t escape or to keep an eye on my asthma.

Nicholas, of course, ran the company. He worked in and out of the estate, but Nicholas was the only one who lived with Darius in the mansion. Reed and Max, under orders from their father, had returned from their homes only to breed me.

Charming.

They all worked for the Bennett Corporation, though Max wasn’t meant to join the company. Max was military, or had been, until whatever happened to his leg became too much of a detriment to serve. I didn’t ask if it was a combat injury. He wasn’t forthcoming with many details save for relentlessly mocking my skill at Call of Duty.

And Reed? God help me, Reed might have been my third brother. He worked the family’s charity as the Director of Operations—a general saint in a family of demons. I liked him, even when he slaughtered me at Mario Kart and mocked me for going in reverse around the finish line.

“Just ask, and I’ll give you a thirty second head start,” he said.

Freaking Mario bopped me with a red shell. I threw the control as the Princess avatar cried just inches from the finish as the race mercy ended.

Reed hopped over his recliner and made a sandwich from the platter stashed upstairs so I wouldn’t hobble to the kitchen.

So I wouldn’t cross Darius’s path.

He held up the salami. I shook my head. Turkey. I scrunched my nose. He tossed a pepperoncini at me. I ducked. It slammed against one of the recliners and slid in a sticky mess down the back.

“Oh, Max is gonna be
pissed
,” I said.

“I’ll buy him a new chair. What do you want to eat?”

No more sandwiches. My step-brothers were carnivores. I hadn’t seen a floret of broccoli in a week.

“Ever been to Cherrywood Valley?” I shrugged. “You know, when you aren’t kidnapping me?”

“Sometimes.”

“We have a farmer’s market set up on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There’s a restaurant that takes whatever produce is left over and grills it up. It’s delicious.”

He stared at the platter. “I can’t take you home, Sarah.”

I hadn’t asked him that yet. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t make this harder on yourself.”

“I’d like to get out of the house.”

“Turn your face blue again. That worked last time.”

No thanks.

I stiffened as a silken voice chuckled from the doorway. Nicholas’s amusement squeezed everything inside me, but enough of my strength returned that I could finally meet his stare.

“Are you bored already, Ms. Atwood?” He asked.

“So what if I am?”

“Then we can go to work.”

“
We
?”

Nicholas motioned for me to follow. Reed tossed me a blanket. I wrapped it over me if only because my peppermint striped fuzzy pants and chemise didn’t offer me an edge against Nicholas’s suit.

My steps slowed as he led me to the study. I clutched the blanket. He did it on purpose—taking me to the same room where his father humiliated me. I had been completely exposed to him here. Bare. Vulnerable.

I wasn’t ready to relive it. I recovered, but my breathing wasn’t clear yet, and I slept fourteen hours a day. I’d still be admitted in the hospital if the Bennetts hadn’t demanded my release.

My stay in their care had been relatively peaceful, but that didn’t mean I was safe.

They counted the days. So did I. I hated that
time of the month
, but I never thought there’d be something worse than it—a time when everything I knew about life, men, and love would be forever destroyed.

My laptop waited in the study. He pointed to a spare chair and claimed the seat before my computer.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.

“We have emails to answer and a bit of work to do.”

“Get off my computer.”

“I like the desktop.” He studied the photo I saved—a picture of Mike, Josiah, and I doing handstands next to a crumbling scarecrow. “You have a lovely smile.”

“Get
off
my computer.”

Nicholas ignored me. “First thing. Sign this.”

He pushed my course add/drop forms toward me.

Was beating me to a pulp not a good enough torture for a Bennett?

“I don’t like it either,” he said. “But, even if you weren’t in this situation, your family’s tragedy and the company are too much to handle. You figured this might happen, or you wouldn’t have carried these with you.”

“I can do it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the acting CEO of a billion dollar company. Education is important, but it isn’t necessary now.”

“But I’m not majoring in business.”

“You aren’t passing either.”

I would have hated it more if he weren’t right. I wouldn’t pass with so many incompletes and missed assignments.

“Sarah, we won’t let you leave the estate until you have our son,” Nicholas said. My stomach still lurched every time they said it. “You won’t be going to college anytime soon.”

My hand thudded heavy against the paper. I poked a hole through the flourish I added to
Atwood
.

Just another sacrifice. I blinked frustrated tears.

Nicholas placed the document in a folder labeled
Broughton University.
His attention focused on the screen. He scanned the emails with a harsh sigh.

“Did your father micromanage his company?”

“Why would I tell you that?”

He pushed away from the computer. “I should be at my office, working on my own projects. Instead, I’m behind so I might stabilize a rival company. I’d take more care with my tone.”

“Oh bullshit,” I said. “This isn’t for
me
. This is a cover-up so no one realizes that I’ve been kidnapped.”

“You’re right.”

“I’ll return to the theater now, thank you.”

He studied the emails. “You are involved in entirely too many corporate affairs. Where are your Vice-Presidents?” He scrolled through an email chain. “Your father and brothers wouldn’t have dealt with this many minute details. No wonder you’re behind on your coursework.”

I seethed as he typed out email after email.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Delegating.”

“Well, stop it!”

Nicholas read one email more carefully. “Your attorney received a letter from an investor in Josmik Holdings. He says,
I might have something for us
.”

I didn’t react. Nicholas arched an eyebrow.

“Any idea what that’s about?” He asked.

He wished. Darius hired a private investigator to dig up dirt on my brothers’ investment. The Bennetts wanted the same information I needed. Too bad I had nothing to give.

I shrugged. “Just one of the dozens of fires my brothers started that we’ve been putting out.”

If he doubted me, he didn’t show it. He closed the laptop.

“You won’t like this next order of business.”

“This takeover has been a blast so far.”

He handed me another document. I didn’t finish the first paragraph before I crumpled it and threw it at him.

“A leave of
absence
?”

“Undue strain from your asthma attack. Doctor recommended.”

“I’ll never sign it.”

“My father knows that.”

A chill sprinted over my spine, despite the pleasant fire crackling from the hearth.

“What’s he holding over me?”

“Your medication.”

Of course was.

“He’ll try to scare you. More attacks, less recovery time. Multiple illnesses will weaken your Board’s confidence.” Nicholas didn’t soften his voice. He didn’t have to. His every word squeezed my chest like another attack. “Either you willingly take the leave and let your VPs do their job, or you’ll lose their respect and money.”

“I can live without the inhaler.”

“Sarah, even your father took a leave of absence when he was diagnosed—”

“
Don’t
.” I hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t you talk about him.”

I stood, brushing my hands through my hair. I didn’t have a lot of options. Making a run for it didn’t end well last time, but at least I’d try to escape the worst decision before I lost all control of my life.

Was it worth it?

Leaving school? Abandoning the company?

Sacrificing my
body
?

Was it worth destroying
everything
so I could take down a man who deserved to experience every misfortune that befell my family?

Yes.

Because it’s what Dad would have made me do.

“Sue him.” My father spoke through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. He shoveled another bite before pointing his fork. “They insulted the Atwoods. Call Anthony. We’ll set up a defamation suit.”

Josiah reluctantly shrugged. “Just let it slide. We won’t take a hit from a local paper.”

“If they insulted our product, they insulted us. Nothing is more important than our name, son. Our farm, our company, our crops—it’s all part of our blood. And we protect our blood, you hear?”

“Yeah. I got it.”

Dad threw his fork down. “We’ll do it now. Get up.”

 “We haven’t even cut the cake.” Josiah stood anyway.

“She’s turned fifteen. She’ll be fine.”

Mike joined him, mussing my hair. “Catch you later, Sprout.”

Dad shouted from his office. They wished me a happy birthday before following.

I was actually sixteen.

My father worked so hard, he accidentally forgot to care for anything but his job.

He would have made me cut out Darius’s heart by now.

How was I supposed to avenge him if I had to leave everything behind?

My father deserved justice. I deserved a life. But the responsibility that fell to me was the very thing my father never planned for me to have.

He wanted a male heir to preserve the Atwood legacy.

So did the Bennetts.

“Sarah.” Nicholas’s baritone soothed me, a comfort I didn’t want. “You’ve worked hard. No one will deny that.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Nicholas stood before me. Too close, but I didn’t give an inch. My breathing quickened. It only teased me with the crisp, sharp scent of him.

“I wish I had better news for you,” he said.

“Let me guess. I don’t have a choice now either?”

He shook his head. A shiver grazed me. I didn’t know if it was good or bad.

“Your fate is decided, Sarah.”

I bit my lip and stared at his. Mistake.

“And what fate is that?” I asked.

“You’re mine.”

For the first time in a week I took deep, healthy breaths, but my body refused them all. Nicholas towered over me. The button on his suit jacket slipped, revealing a trim waist and broad, muscular chest waiting beneath the dress shirt.

He was close enough to touch.

Close enough to be dangerous.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” I whispered. “Least of all a Bennett.”

His attention lingered on the ottoman where his family displayed my nudity. I didn’t react. He prowled closer, herding me toward the desk.

“I should bend you over right now.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Why did I challenge him? I should have just run.

He seized me, and I twisted in his arms. Nicholas was far stronger than me. He forced me over the desk and I thudded on my stomach. He avoided an awkward kick and pinned me with an arm over my back.

My skin prickled in a sudden sweat as he moved behind me. His hips pressed against mine. I arched. Reflexively. Instinctually.

Completely inappropriately.

He curled his hand in my hair and chuckled. “You like this.”

Yes.

“No, I don’t.”

“Why lie to me?”

“I’ll scream.”

“And who would save you, Ms. Atwood?”

No one.

“You’re scaring me.”

He didn’t care. “Am I hurting you?”

Was
that
the distinction?
Hurting
me?

Physically, no. He simply held me against my will. Again. Wielded his strength over me and dragged my body where he liked. I couldn’t scramble away without pressing harder against him. He chided me with a soft whisper of my name—an angel’s voice with a devil’s intent.

He liked that I still tried to struggle.