All Chapters of Addicted to My Stepbrother : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“I'm so sick of this. I can't wait to get the hell out of here.”"Smile, Tamara," Andrew whispered in my ear.His fingers dug hard into my arm like iron clamps. He dragged me into the middle of the ballroom. Camera lights flashed in my eyes, blinding me over and over. I tried to look happy, but my whole body was shaking.I did not look at the photographers. I looked past them, searching the dark corners of the party.Then I saw him.Derek was standing by the heavy red curtains thirty feet away. He wore a dark suit and held a glass of champagne. When he saw me looking, he raised his glass in a fake toast. Then, he pulled one finger across his neck in a silent threat. A second later, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.My heart slammed against my ribs. The air left my lungs all at once."I need some air," I gasped, pulling my arm out of Andrew's tight grip."What are you doing, Tamara," Andrew hissed through his fake smile."Let her go," Julian’s deep voice barked.Julian stepped

Chapter 13I shoved Julian’s heavy chest with both hands, breaking his grip on my face, and ran before he could grab me again. My high heels clattered fast against the cold floor. I pushed past the heavy red curtains and burst into the dark hall near the back terrace.Derek stood near the tall glass doors, slowly turning a glass of wine in his hand. He did not turn around when he heard my rushing feet. He just smiled into his glass and took a slow sip."You're fast," Derek said. His voice was smooth and low, making my skin crawl. He turned around slowly, looking at my shaking body with a cruel grin. "I barely had time to finish my drink.""Where is it?" I asked, my voice shaking. I squeezed my hands into tight fists until my nails bit hard into my skin. "What do you want from me, Derek?"Derek laughed, a cold sound with no warmth at all. He reached inside his black jacket and pulled out the second black envelope. He held it between two fingers, waving it like bones in front of a hung

I crossed the ballroom fast, before my nerves could catch up with my legs.Palms slick. Heart slamming. My feet didn’t stop.The investors’ circle had tightened around Julian and Andrew near the bar. Crystal glasses. Low laughter.Then I was there, sliding between a gray suit and Andrew’s shoulder like I belonged.“Excuse me.”Julian’s head turned first. His eyes found mine, and for half a second something flickered there before his face settled back into place.He didn’t miss a beat.“Tamara. Perfect timing.” His voice was smooth, practiced the one he used when the room needed to believe him. “Dad, pardon the interruption. Legal just called. The revised nondisclosure needs her signature before midnight or the whole package stalls.”Andrew’s glass paused halfway to his mouth. “Now? We’re in the middle of the valuation discussion…”“Won’t take long.” Julian’s hand settled at the small of my back, warm and steady. “Continue without me. I’ll catch up.”Andrew’s gaze flicked between us,

Andrew walked up onto the small stage near the windows. He picked up the microphone, smiling the way rich men smile when they already know how the night will end."Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice clear and easy. "We've raised a lot of money tonight, but we're not finished. One last item. A private week on the family's island. Quiet. Far away. Full staff. And my son will be there as your host for the entire time."Low voices rippled through the crowd. Some laughed. A few looked at Julian with interest. His fingers pressed harder against my back for a second, then loosened. His eyes stayed forward.Andrew kept speaking. "We'll start the bidding at fifty thousand dollars. All proceeds go to the foundation."A paddle shot up right away. Then another. The number climbed — eighty thousand, one hundred thousand, one hundred and twenty-five thousand. I watched the side of Julian's face. His mouth had gone flat, unreadable, like the auction had nothing to do with him at all.The figh

The boat bumped against the wooden dock with a soft thud. I stepped off first. My sneakers hit the planks and the salt air rushed into my lungs right away. No city noise. No engines. No people talking over each other. Just waves and the creak of the boat behind us.Julian followed with both bags. The path up to the house was narrow and sandy. Palm trees leaned in on both sides. ​The house itself sat open and modern, all glass and light wood. No staff waited at the door. No one took our bags or offered drinks. The quiet felt thick, like it had weight.​We walked inside. The main room opened straight to the ocean. A long couch faced the water. The kitchen looked unused. Julian set the bags down near the stairs and turned to me.​“You wanted isolation,” he said. “This is it.”​I dropped my bag on the couch and took in the room. “It feels bigger than I thought. And way quieter.”​“That is the point of a private island.” He walked to the windows and stood with his hands in his pockets. “No