Chapter 2
DEMPSEY
“If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
I objected.
I seriously fucking objected.
But if I’d dared to say it during the ceremony, mother would have strangled me in a mass of tulle.
Why she’d been so thrilled to marry a rich asshole who likely only wanted to control her—just like my father had—was beyond me. If it were just her life, it would have been one thing, but she was dragging me to this pretentious world of the wealthy along with her. I struggled to control my expression as my anger bristled.
I didn’t want this.
I didn’t want any of it.
Not a gated community of mansions filled with cheating husbands and perpetually doped-up trophy wives who raised brats with trust funds so big they didn’t know how much a candy bar cost at the store. Why would they? They sent their housekeepers or personal shoppers to places like that. They were all too drunk, high, and horny to care how the other half lived.
My family had been comfortable—albeit miserable—in our old life. But comfortable wasn’t a word used to describe my mother’s new husband.
Byron Aston was richer than God.
Yet despite the cushy new lifestyle I was about to be thrust into, I didn’t want to be here.
Of course, I had no choice. As much as I hated living with my mother, life with her and her new uber-rich, society husband was my only option. Because there was no way in hell I would go back to my father. He’d have to drag me by my hair, screaming my lungs out first. And knowing him, he’d likely do exactly that when he came for me.
For now, I was stuck here with my mother, her new husband, and his three hideous offspring.
Only… hideous was a stretch.
It was an undeniable fact that all three of my new stepbrothers were hot as sin.
The oldest one stood beside my new stepfather at the ceremony, watching me with a guarded curiosity as I passed. The middle one, caramel-haired and slightly taller than the other two, had smirked with all the confidence and swagger that only the truly wealthy and untouchable could pull off. While the third looked at me like I was about to become his new favorite toy, a thought that seemed to piss him off if the scowl was any indication. The sight of them as I walked down the aisle had been overwhelming, and I’d had to work hard to stop it showing on my face.
Filthy rich playboys weren’t my style. Especially ones I was forced to call family now.
After the ceremony, I stood in the giant glass atrium that had been erected for my mother and new daddy’s wedding reception on the sprawling grounds of the compound I was to call home.
It was packed with people I didn’t know, the same men whose seedy gazes had trailed over my body as I walked down the aisle, seated next to women who turned their noses up at me. I knew the reputation of women like them. It didn’t matter that there were ten, twenty, thirty years between them and me. They saw me as competition. Someone who could potentially steal their sweaty, balding husbands. At least Mom’s new one had a full head of hair and a half-decent personality from the few times I’d met him when he’d come to pick up Mom for one of their dates.
I pressed my lips together, comforted by the taste of my favorite peach lip gloss. Right now, it was a small taste of familiarity in this soulless place. Sipping at the chilled glass of champagne in my hand, I propped my other hand under my elbow to keep the glass close to my mouth. Getting drunk and staying that way seemed like my best chance for survival.
I was contemplating my escape—maybe slipping out the back of the atrium to the staffing tent to find a cute waiter I could flirt with and really piss off my mom—when my three brand new stepbrothers cut through the crowded dance floor in my direction.
I stilled.
Well, this should be interesting…
They stopped in front of me, creating a loose semi-circle around me, cutting me off from the party.
“If it isn’t our new step-sister,” said the one with caramel-colored hair and a smile that promised nothing but trouble, spreading his arms wide and taking a step towards me like he was going to wrap me in a hug. He had Prom King written all over him.
I stopped him with a hand to his chest, which was taut under my touch. “I’m good, thanks.”
I’d been dreading this meeting from the moment my mother told me my new step-daddy came with three sons as accessories. Now that it was happening, their collective hotness was unsettling. Overwhelming, even. Not to mention the undeniable power that having money brought.
Surely it couldn’t be legal for this much handsome to exist in one family? And surely being attracted to people you were now supposed to call your step-brothers was some kind of crime? Didn’t mean I had to act on it though. I’d keep them at arm’s length and save myself a world of pain.
“Our super fucking hot new step-sister,” the one to my right grumbled, as though the fact I was even vaguely attractive was an intentional move on my part to agitate him.
I could say the same about them.
He was slightly shorter than the other two and looked to be the embodiment of solid muscle. A stupidly hot gym bro.
“Why would my appearance offend you so much?” I cut back, determined to be so prickly they’d leave me the hell alone. “Do you hate women?”
I sipped my champagne as though the entire interaction bored me. In reality, my heart was racing in my chest.
The dark-haired one with fierce green eyes was watching our interactions, hands in his pockets, that same wary curiosity in his eyes that he’d had at the ceremony.
“I love women,” the Prom King said, drawing my attention back to him. His gaze dropped down my body and back to my face with a broad grin. “Let’s go back up to the house and I’ll show you how much.”
He moved to take a step towards me again, but Green Eyes stopped him. “Cool it, Pres,” his voice was low and commanding to his brother, making my stomach flip.
“Pres?” I asked Prom King, with a frown.
“Presley,” he offered. “Mom was big into Elvis. And yes, I move my hips just as well as he could. Happy to give you a demonstration any time, sweet cheeks.”
He motioned for me to lead the way in the direction I assumed went back up to the house. The grounds were massive and I’d only been here one night, sleeping in one of the guest rooms with my mom the night before her wedding, which had been a particular kind of torture. We’d been brought down from the house for the ceremony in the world’s swankiest golf cart, because it was too far to walk and God forbid we scuff the red bottoms of the three-thousand-dollar Louboutins that were currently biting into my heels. So far, my knowledge of my new home was limited. Just like my knowledge of my new family.
“That’s Dacre,” Presley said, motioning to pissed off Mr. Muscle.
“A real pleasure.” He gave me a hard nod, his bright blue eyes boring into me.
God, I bet girls just fell into bed with him.
“Would you two cut it out? She’s our fucking step-sister,” Green Eyes said, his gaze never leaving me.
Dacre shrugged and Presley looked thrilled that he’d gotten a rise out of his brother.
“We’re not related, it’s legal,” Presley said with a devious grin.
I turned to Green Eyes. “And you are?”
A ghost of a smile played at his mouth. Other than that, his expression didn’t change. “Sinclair, but you can call me Sin.”
Sin.The way he said it… like it wasn’t just a name, but a promise. One I was sure he could deliver on, given half the chance.
You’ll never find out, so stop thinking about it.
“Well, glad we’ve finally met. Now we can stay out of each other’s way. That house is plenty big enough that we’ll probably never run into each other.”
I was here to focus on school and ensuring my father left me the hell alone. Once I graduated, I’d have options. I wouldn’t need either of my parents.
The three boys chuckled and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Why the hell were they laughing at me?
“I don’t think you understand how this works,” Sin said, taking a step to close the space between us. “We’re family. Which means you’re one of us now.”
I scoffed. “One of you?”
The last thing I needed was another man (or men) telling me how to live my life.
The side of Dacre’s mouth quirked. “It means where we go, you go. Our father’s told us to keep an eye on you, and we take our duty to our family seriously.”
Irritation sparked inside me. “I don’t need three overgrown babysitters. I can figure this place out for myself.”
Pres moved closer, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Dempsey. Plenty of girls would love to be in your position. Unfettered access to the Aston brothers? What an opportunity.”
He said “Aston brothers” as though they were royalty and I should bow at their feet like a good little subject. I’d rather puke in my purse and carry it around.
I shoved Presley off and he chuckled at my efforts, willingly stumbling back a step.
“Thanks, but I can take care of myself. I don’t need help from three trust fund babies whose biggest talents are spending their daddy’s money and partying in his houses.”
“You bring your own bank account did you, Princess?” Sin’s hard voice sliced through me.
I swallowed my frustration, because he had a point: If I had my own bank account padded with cash, I’d be gone already.
I didn’t have any money. My father had made sure of that when he’d been hellbent on limiting my options to force my hand. The fact I now had nowhere else to go was the only reason I was even here.
There was nowhere I could go where my father wouldn’t eventually find me. Being here, under the protection of Byron’s wealth and this locked-down community might buy me some time, but I was worth too much to my father for him to let me go. I just had to be ready when he came to collect.
When I didn’t reply, Sinclair huffed a laugh at my expense.
“That’s what I thought. Pretty girls in glass houses shouldn’t throw insults, Dempsey.”
The mocking way he said my name made me scowl. I downed the rest of my drink and discarded the glass on the table behind me. “I’ve had enough family bonding for the night. Think I’ll go find a satin-covered pillow and a set of one-thousand thread count sheets to lie my pretty little head on.”
Without another word, I pushed past them.
“You need any help with that, you just say my name. Preferably between moans,” Presley murmured.
I ducked my head as I walked away so they wouldn’t see how my cheeks flamed.