The Billionaire's Stepsister

I’m glad my single mother finally found the man of her dreams, but now his older CEO son Alex thinks we’re all gold diggers of the worst kind. The first time I tried to talk to him, I was kicked out of his office and banned from the premises. We steered clear of each other after that, until his father decided to gift me with a seven-figure sum to celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday and arranged it so that only Alex could manage my inheritance.

He has power over me now. Leverage. And he isn't afraid to use it.

But he's about to find out that I fight back.

THE BILLIONAIRE'S STEPSISTER is a 22,000 word standalone short story. While it was previously published, it has been edited and expanded.

 Kati 

It’s my twenty-fifth birthday. As of this morning, the inheritance-slash-birthday-gift my stepfather insisted on giving me is now in the brand-new brokerage account recently opened in my name. To celebrate the unexpected fortune, I spent a grand from my own personal savings account on a new outfit, heels, and a trip to the salon, because… why not?

Every time I catch a glance at my reflection–in a store display’s mirror, in a tinted car window–there’s an instinctive double-take. The beautifully cut pencil skirt paired with the sleek heels, the silky, slinky blouse, the crisp blazer… it would have looked out of place on me had my hair not been freshly reinvented via long, expertly-cut layers.

A few more minutes in the oppressive humidity and it would frizz, but for now, I reveled in looking like some million-dollar corporate professional. All for the price of most people’s rent… assuming they had a damn good deal. This city was ruthless.

But why not? I haven’t had a new outfit in a while. It’s a professional investment. And since I’m seeing my asshole of a stepbrother in just a few minutes, I’ll tell him I dropped ten grand just to hear his perfect teeth grind across his expensive desk.

Alex is ten years older than me, and ever since we met at my mother’s and his father’s whirlwind engagement party last year, a month before I finished grad school, I’ve been treated like… well, a gold-digger’s daughter. Never mind that they’re truly in love. Never mind that Mom insisted on a prenup when they got married a few weeks after getting engaged. Never mind that Ellison’s clearly the happiest he’s ever been.

But the worst part isn’t the scornful glares, the clipped attitude, the forced politeness when there are witnesses, or the way he turns his back on me when I enter the room. It’s not even the way he told me to stay the fuck away from him when I confronted him in his office a few days after the party where we first met. All that, I could sneer at and ignore. Compartmentalize it and shove it out of sight.

No, I fucking hated my stepbrother because all I can think about, since the shitty day we met, is how badly I’d love to hate-fuck him.

This asshole was beyond hot. He was powerful, too. Control, strength, and arrogance layered over him in a way that drew every eye toward him the moment he entered anyone’s field of vision. And starry-eyed me had quickly learned that any kindness he might have, any empathy left in his soul, would never appear around me.

After our disastrous confrontation at his office last year, all I could fantasize about was either watching him fall off a cliff, or him fucking me on that desk. In every single way possible. I want to tear his clothes off as he slammed me onto my back. I wanted him to keep all his clothes on as I kneel before him, naked, and he grabbed my hair in his fists, thrusting his cock in my mouth. I want him with every fiber of my being, and I hate it. I need to get him out of my system.

Not that it would ever happen. He recoils from me, like I have some sort of contagious disease that would shrink his dick and drain his bank account.

He must never, ever know how badly I want him.

His company’s office building loomed up before me. Just in time, too, as the first drop of sweat started tracing my spine with an icy finger. I swept through the revolving door at high speed and let out an audible sigh of relief when the frigid air conditioning slapped me across the face.

I’d been here once before. That first time, he called security when my temper went from hot to lava after his nasty dismissal. This time, I was here at his invitation, although that suggests a certain degree of civility that definitely doesn’t exist. Ellison, anxious to have his protégé son get along with his beloved’s daughter, had asked him to provide me with some sort of financial consulting. I can’t even imagine what sort of leverage that required.

I’ll probably be handed off to a random underling in a few seconds, anyway.

Heart racing, I crossed the marble, wincing when my shoes clattered a bit on the floor. Balancing on these things wasn’t quite my forte yet. “Good morning,” I said with the best mix of authoritative and friendly I could muster, laying my ID on the desk. “I have a ten o’clock appointment with Alexander Argyros.” Nervous, I fiddled with the gold bracelet on my wrist. I’d had it since I was fifteen and it was the good luck charm I never went anywhere without.

“Please run your bags through the machine and use the back elevators to go to the forty-fifth floor, Ms. Esteban,” the guard said after verifying my information. He handed me a sticker with my name and the name of Alex’s company on it. There was a picture, too, from the last time I was here. How embarrassing. At least there wasn’t a huge X across it. “Have a great day.”

After verifying that no, I hadn’t brought an arsenal with which to take out the most assholey asshole in Assholeville, I reclaimed my shopping bags and stepped into the elevator. There was almost no sensation of moving, although the numbers spun up fast enough that my head felt a little tingly. So did my stomach. Gravity or nerves?

After verifying my appointment, the receptionist brought me to his office and, with an awkward smile, left me there facing a closed door. I ran my fingers over my bracelet’s smooth, warm links. Must’ve told her to ditch me like this, I thought sourly. Whatever it took to make me feel unwanted and alone. I raised my fist to knock, then paused. That’s what he wanted me to do. Knock, wait for an agonizing minute. Then knock again and again until he gave me permission to come in. A power game.

Or I could just slam the door open and march in like I owned the place. Technically, I did own the time. Ten to eleven. That hour was mine.

Before I could do so, a rich voice behind me spoke. “You okay there?”

My hand dropped and I turned around. Well, hello. Sexy man, tailored suit, and a friendly smile. What a lethal combination. My knees wobbled a bit with happiness. “I have an appointment with Alex.” I gestured a bit lamely at the closed door.

“He doesn’t bite,” the mystery suit said. “My office is right over there–want to ring him to see if he’s on an important call or something? I’m about to run to a meeting but you’re welcome to sit at my desk if you need to wait a bit. I’m Ian, by the way.” He held out his hand and I grasped it firmly. His handshake was warm, solid, with just the right amount of pressure to indicate he saw me as an equal and not someone he looked down on. His other hand didn’t have a ring on it. Not that I checked.

“Hi, I’m–”

With a sibilant whoosh, the door behind me swung open. I glanced over my shoulder, suddenly feeling guilty for no sane reason whatsoever, but whatever trepidation I felt melted away in pure, unadulterated glee when I realized just what Alex was staring at.

Ian’s hand clasped with mine.

Alex looked like he was about to murder someone.

Ian calmly withdrew his hand from mine. “It was lovely meeting you. Have a good meeting.” With a casual nod to Alex’s direction, he turned on his heel and walked off down the hallway, gait unhurried.

Knowing that Alex’s poisonous glare was now firmly on me, I took the moment to appreciate the way Ian’s butt looked in those perfectly pressed pants before he turned a corner and vanished from sight. Then, and only then, did I look Alex straight in the face to smile brightly. “Gosh, the people at your company are really… nice. Let’s get this meeting over with, shall we?”

“Get inside,” he all but growled, and as I walked into his office, careful to not brush against him, I couldn’t suppress the slight jolt when he slammed the door shut behind me.

* * *

Alex 

Three seconds. I had left the damn woman outside my door for just three seconds to remind her to keep her distance when I’d heard voices. As the point hadn’t been to let her get chummy with my coworkers, I’d opened the door to see what was going on. And, as luck would have it, Ian was holding her hand, smiling into her eyes like he’d ordered a five-dollar whiskey and been served twenty-five year old Pappy. 

A better person would have introduced the two of them. Ian was a great guy. But the last thing I needed when I was at work, other than Kati waiting outside my door, was Kati dating one of the best lawyers I had. Top-notch lawyers had top-notch connections, which would make it much more difficult to get away with hiding his body.

She swept by me, nose haughtily in the air, and I slammed the door harder than was necessary. Given how much taller I was, even though she wore decently high heels, I could see right down that thin silky blouse and how her breasts jiggled in that lacy-looking bra as she jumped a bit at the unexpected noise.

I wondered how they’d fit in my hands, how she’d moan and writhe when I’d tear those clothes out of my way to squeeze them, handle them roughly enough while sinking my cock deep inside of her to reminder that no matter what, I would always win the war between them.

No sex. Distance. Keep your distance.

“Did I startle you?” I had to goad her. Needed to keep her off-balance, and to remind her–and myself–that when forced to be around each other, I had all the control.

“No,” she lied without a moment’s hesitation. “Still getting used to these gorgeous heels. They’re new. This whole outfit is new, actually.”

“Went shopping with your newfound fortune?” A fortune you don’t deserve?

“Best ten grand I ever spent,” she replied cheerfully, and I wanted to snarl. This is what I’d meant when I’d tried to convince my father to not give her an inheritance. She’d done nothing to deserve the inheritance, probably had no idea what to do with it other than spend it on frivolous items. She hadn’t dedicated her life to building up an empire from the ground up. Hadn't spent every hour starting from high school until now learning every single nook and cranny in the business. Hell, my old man hadn't even paid for my college. I'd done that via merit-based scholarships and various part-time jobs all by myself.

You don’t deserve anything that’s given to you, my father used to say all the time. Work for it.

Apparently, that only applied to me.

I'd spent my entire life proving to my father that I was worthy, and then, after everything... my father met The One and, over the course of several months, had gone soft. Had become relaxed and compliant, everything he’d always claimed to despise in his acquaintances. He quit his job except for some part-time behind-the-scenes consulting, settled into a wealthy retired man’s lazy lifestyle, and just piled slavish adoration onto two people who weren't his flesh and blood, two people who had done nothing to deserve it.

Well, maybe Kati’s mother deserved it. Anyone who could put up with, let alone change my father for the better, deserved some sort of accolade. I’d been pretty sure that my father would die at his desk of a stress-induced heart attack, denying Death’s bony, beckoning fingers just long enough to scream at his secretary a list of things the company had to do in his absence lest he come back and haunt them all.

Right now, he was playing golf in the Caribbean with a second wife ten years his junior, both so legitimately enamored that it was almost nauseating to watch them coo at each other.

But Kati? She'd suddenly scored herself not just an inheritance, but a father figure. It burned my gut that she'd just lucked into what I'd been trying to earn for so long–my father's kindness.

She was actually a decent human being. Which somehow made it all worse, because hating a good person just made me feel like more of a dick. And feeling like a dick just made me angrier about the whole situation.

And so the cycle continued.

I had some sort of faint hope that she'd managed to spend all the money already. Maybe she’d flown all of her friends to Bora Bora last night, prepaid a month’s worth of activities, and she’d fly out to join them once this meeting was over. Surely she could blow seven figures in a few weeks with the proper crowd. I sure as hell had done it before.

With a sharp motion, I gestured for her to sit down. She remained standing. Suddenly tired of the Standing Game, I sat down in my plush, comfortable chair and waited until she awkwardly followed suit. "My father"—mine, not yours—"asked me to advise you on how to best invest your funds. I could do it for you, or—”

"I'd like some input, please, as I already have some plans."

She wanted input? Fine. Whatever it took to get her to just back off, give me free rein to her money so I could pick up where my father had left off in investing it. Get the portfolio to the point where she could live off of interest alone and I wouldn't have to look at the way her pencil skirt strained at the seams around her hips. I launched into a rapid monologue of the different options available, rattling off figures and numbers and yields and the years each investment could last to get—

She held up a hand. "Stop."

I did, arching my eyebrows. She’d called uncle sooner than I’d expected. Hopefully she’d storm out soon, too.

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

Bingo. While my favorite view was her walking away from me, I couldn’t deny that my second-favorite view was watching her flip her shit. She’d done such a fantastic job of it the last time she was here that my security team still had her picture framed on their wall. "Are you having trouble following what I'm talking about?" I asked silkily.

“You know damn well that I don't know what any of that shit is," she snapped. “Think that makes me stupid?

Not really. Most people are shoddily educated about money management. Which was a painfully stupid oversight I blamed on the educational system in this country, but given that I couldn't explain to anyone how my body worked beyond the basics and she’d graduated from one of the top physical therapy programs in the country last year, I didn’t actually think she lacked intelligence. So I said nothing, just stared her down.

Her bottom lip was missing most of the lipstick it had earlier, like she'd been worrying it with her teeth. God, I'd love to take that lipstick off her mouth myself. With my lips and my tongue, but leaving just enough color so that a few streaks would stain my pants as she used her teeth to drag down the zipper of my fly...

No. Do not focus on how hot she is.

Focus on the money.

Distance.

"I don’t think you’re stupid,” I allowed. “To make a long story short, I'd like to invest half of your funds in some short-term, high risk investments. Even more risky than what my father’s already set up here. You can do what you want with the other half if you want to mess around with it yourself, and you’re welcome to email me details if you want feedback.”

"And if your risky moves erase my money?”

"I will personally reimburse you."

"I want that in writing. And if it works out?"

“Then they should give you enough interest in a decade or so for you to nicely supplement or even replace your income. Say…” I named a sum that made her eyebrows arch up, her eyebrows round, and her mouth make a little O shape. The kind of O that brought one thing and one thing only to mind.

"So I could just live off of my own income, and then use the interest from this to pay off student loans, cover unexpected medical bills, and go on vacation?” She paused. “I could buy an apartment. Start my own business. I’d… I’d be set for life as long as I don’t squander it and keep within my means.”

"Yes."

“And I don't ever need to deal with you ever again after this meeting? Sounds great. Go for it. Let me know when you need me to sign anything, and then I'll be out of your hair forever." She got up to leave.

I would have let her go, and was celebrating the end of this stupid meeting by watching the way her ass moved up and down as she moved in those new heels, but then she turned and pinned me with that hot stare. "Just wanted to make things clear before I left–you can't stand me, can you?"

"No." It came out raspy. Shit. Had she caught me staring?

"But it's nothing I did."

I didn’t answer.

“Alex.”

Her voice was unexpectedly pleading. I smiled coolly at her. “Try to play therapist and I’ll wipe out half your money and you’ll never see a penny in return. Keep walking out the door, Sunshine. There’s nothing for you here. I might be your stepbrother, but you will never be family.”

"Okay.” She took in a deep breath to calm herself, but I watched in fascination as her hands clenched into fists and her color began to climb high in her cheeks. Perhaps I’d get a stellar temper implosion to improve my mood after all. “You hate me not for anything I did, but because you can't stand the fact that I know what your father wants from you that you just don’t understand. Fair enough." She tossed her head dismissively. "Have a nice day."

Blood roared in my ears. She didn't… she couldn't have just gone there. The breath rushed out of my lungs on a sound that would have disturbed me had my temper not just reached a point I’d never, ever experienced before.

She froze, and it was that moment’s hesitation that allowed me to reach her before she could make her escape.

I backed her up against the door, hands braced hard on either side of her so that no matter how hard she yanked at the handle, she was stuck. Leaning forward, my lips brushed against the silky-soft shell of her ear once. Twice. Her body was flush against mine, trembling from adrenaline. She’d pushed too far, and now?

Now she was trapped.

“What,” I whispered, so softly that if my lips hadn’t remained right by her ear, she wouldn’t have heard me, “did you just say to me?”

Q: What tropes and characters will readers find here?

A: Enemies to lovers, age gap, alphahole hero, forced proximity, wealthy hero

Q: What is the heat / spice level?

A: Explicit.

Q: Standalone or part of a series?

A: Standalone! But there's always a chance that a minor character might pop up in another novella.

Q: Does it end on a cliffhanger, and is there a Happily Ever After (HEA)?

A: No cliffhanger! Hopefully the way it ends suggests that they'll be quite happy for many years to come. 

Q: Are there content warnings or sensitive themes?

A: There's a bit of morally gray behavior. The heroine is torn between her hatred and her attraction to the alphahole hero. He enjoys pushing her boundaries, but it’s part of the fantasy, as she’s a very willing participant. There’s also light impact play and a scene lightly inspired by primal play.