My Stepbrother, His Highness: A Royal Stepbrother Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Victoria Cabot

  The problem was it was only fucking 11 am. No self-respecting bar would be open just yet.

  Sighing to myself, I rode the bike into one of those casual dining places that Americans love near the center of the city. One of those that had a restaurant and a bar for when those accountants like to get a little crazy and half a glass of wine before dinner.

  I walked to the bar and immediately pointed to a bottle of whiskey. The kid at the counter had his eyes as big as fucking saucers but he obliged. I drank the shot of whiskey down in one gulp and ordered another. I killed that one too. Only three more drinks later did I feel that I was clear and lucid enough to slow down a little bit.

  "Seems like you've had a rough morning there," a voice said next to me. I turned around. Woman. I hadn't noticed any other people at the bar when I sat down, but then again I wasn't thinking straight. She was blonde. Maybe thirty, maybe less. Big tits - not as nice as Becca. God damn, I needed to stop comparing every woman to her. No one would ever match up.

  "What's a guy like you doing in a bar like this in the morning?" she asked, getting up and coming over. She was wearing a black short skirt and a tube top. I could tell she hadn't gone home from partying the night before, her day old make-up giving it all away.

  "Getting away from life," I answered gruffly, taking another shot and signaling for more.

  "Well, that makes two of us," she purred coming closer to me. "My name's Nerissa. Who are you?"

  I took another drink and looked at her. She was running her eyes up and down my body. So this was what my life was going to be cursed to? "Someone I don't want to be," I said quietly to her and pounded another whiskey.

  12

  Becca

  I don't know how long I lay on the staircase after Silas left, letting the tears come from my eyes as sobs wracked through my body.

  That fucking asshole! Prince Asshole was too good a name for that fucker!

  I had woken up probably the happiest girl in the world, and here I was, a mess on the staircase. I was glad no one was around to see me like this. It was my own fault. I was the one that had given in. Silas had told me point blank that I had ten seconds to get away from him and after that he wasn't responsible for his actions. I knew exactly what kind of man he was. But my head was swimming. From the bar. From seeing him protect me. From grabbing onto him on his motorcycle. From his body. I had wanted him.

  It was all my fault.

  And what had he done after I had given him my heart? He'd stomped on it with his steel-toed boots and kicked it to the curb.

  I wondered if the scores of other women he'd done this to felt the way I did right now. Used, betrayed, naked.

  And what reason did Prince Asshole give me to walk out of my life? That he was protecting me? That I didn't know who he was and once I found out I'd shy away in revulsion?

  Please. If that was the best he could come up with, then the women he spent his time with weren't the sharpest tools in the shed.

  Sadness began to give way to anger and I got myself up from the stairwell. I couldn't let him affect me like this. I couldn't fall apart because of what he had done to me. I knew I was being a walking cliché, having given myself to a guy and now tending a broken heart, but I was determined that I was going to emerge from this stronger and more resilient.

  I was still a fucking Princess, or did he forget that when he took me. I had just as much of a microphone as he did - I had just chosen never to use it.

  I climbed up off the stairwell and was just about to go upstairs when I heard the doorbell. The pool construction guys usually kept to themselves - they interacted directly with Pearson, so I wondered who it could be. I quickly ran to the hall tree mirror and looked at myself.

  Yeah, I looked like a mess but I took the bottom of my shirt and cleaned myself up as best I could. The bell rang again and this time I was a bit presentable. I opened the door to find Tommy standing there in a little green beret.

  "Tommy," I said, more because I didn't know what to say at the moment.

  "Becca, are you okay?" he asked, his eyes widening.

  "I'm fine, Tommy," I said, not looking at him directly so he wouldn't know I way lying. "What's up? The pool guys are building the pool right now."

  "I know," Tommy said absently. He took off his beret. "Silas gave this to me a few days ago, and said I could take it to school for show and tell. I couldn't find him so I wanted to give it back to him."

  He handed me the beret. I took it with a trembling hand.

  "Where is Silas, Becca?" he asked. "I don't see his bike outside."

  "Silas is gone for a little bit, Tommy," I said biting my lip. "I don't know when he'll be back, to be honest."

  Tommy's face scrunched up in concern. "Well, I hope he gets here fast. He told me what to say to Mary Zimmerman to get her to go to the summer camp dance with me on Friday." I looked to Tommy in concern. Had Silas begun imparting his lady-killer skills on the young? Had he started corrupting the youth?

  "He told me I could buy him an ice cream if it worked, and he said no welshing on the deal. We even shook on it," Tommy finished, in absolute seriousness.

  I couldn't help but smile at him. The idea of the larger than life Prince Asshole sharing an ice cream on a bench with Tommy was enough for me to momentarily forget what I was going through.

  Momentarily.

  "I'm sure he wouldn't miss that at all, so don't worry," I reassured Tommy as he made way to leave. I stood there watching Tommy for long moments, my mind drifting to Silas, wondering how someone who could make such great friends with Tommy could treat me so ill.

  Even if I took him at his word and believed that there was something dark deep in Silas' past, what could it be? Did he love me already that he had become inordinately worried about my fragility?

  The part of my brain that refused to be stilled until all questions were answered was awake and smelling a mystery. I had to get to the bottom of it. But how?

  I looked down at the beret I was holding. I brought it closer. It had an insignia and the Royal Crest of St. Penares.

  "Special Task Force 3," I read aloud.

  It was as good a place to start as any.

  "Tell me about what you see every day?" the interviewer asked.

  I was sitting at my computer, intrigued by a documentary that I had found buried on a never seen website with maybe only 150 views. Whoever it was that had done it had been pretty meticulous about covering up what Silas had done during the war in Afghanistan, but apparently they had missed this, or it had been posted afterwards. I had found it after searching through a million other sites - mostly tabloid trash about Silas.

  "Well, love, it's pretty easy to describe," the camera panned to Silas as he flashed a smirk and a smile to the comely interviewer. She blushed and smiled despite herself.

  Slut, I couldn't help but think as Silas and the interviewer began walking along what looked like the length of the base. "I lead a force of men into some really damn inhospitable areas. We pound out the enemy until he's crying for mercy. Once he's softened up a bit, that's when the boys from your country, and all the other countries come in and mop everything up."

  "So, it's just the forces of St. Penares?" the interviewer asked.

  "There are other teams out there like ours. Half of them are from your country. The US. There's a few from the UK. And then the rest are from St. Penares. This is what we contribute to the war effort," Silas answered.

  "And what exactly is that?" the interviewer pressed on.

  "The meanest sons of bitches Al Qaeda has ever seen. They don't know what's hit them by the time we're done. Before they have a chance to get back on their feet, the infantry boys are in and we've pacified the combat zone," Silas answered, looking directly at the interviewer, and by extension, the viewer.

  "Your pedigree is something out of a fairy tale. Born as a prince to one of the last monarchies in the world, you excelled in your studies..." the interviewer changed tack.

  "I did
alright, yes," Silas finished once the interviewer had trailed off.

  "You did better than alright," the interviewer countered. "You earned a perfect grade point average all the way through high school and were accepted to several world-renowned institutions. You chose the St. Penares Military Academy. Why?"

  Silas shrugged. "From my birth, I've been a prince and enjoyed the benefits of being a royal. But that's not what being a prince is about. It's not about parties and it's not about luxury. It's about taking care of a nation. Taking care of my people. And to me, that's the 5 million people that live in my father's Kingdom."

  "You speak quite fondly of St. Penares," the interviewer stated.

  "Wouldn't you?" Silas asked. "For 1900 years my family has been stewards of the island. That's 1900 years of D'Avingtons doing what needed to be done. We fought in every major European or World War. We suffered with our citizens and we never asked them to sacrifice when we didn't. And it's shown. We have one of the largest economies in the world now, and have the highest per capita income in Europe after the UK and Germany. We're hardworking, industrious, and as tenacious as a..." Silas was cut off before he could

  "I think we get the idea, there," the interviewer interjected. "Any plans to marry?"

  I leaned in to better hear, curious. The interview was taken several years ago and while outwardly it seemed Silas had changed, to me it seemed like the same man I had seen last night.

  The same man I had given myself to.

  The same man I had expected to be with me in the morning.

  Silas was about to answer when I heard footsteps behind me.

  I paused and turned around. Pearson had walked in.

  "Ah, Princess D'Avington," he said genially. "Please excuse me. I just came to pick up Silas' things. I assume they are..."

  His voice trailed off when he saw the computer screen behind me.

  "Your Highness, where did you get that video?" he asked, visibly shaken.

  "I found it online after a lot of searching," I answered getting up. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"

  Pearson didn't answer. I could tell as his eyes flickered back and forth from the screen to my face that he was holding something back.

  "Pearson," I said, drawing closer. "What are you not telling me?"

  "Nothing, Your Highness," he answered, attempting to be deferential. He looked at me. I looked back at him and shook my head, letting him know it wasn't working.

  "Pearson," I started slowly. "Tell me what's going on."

  "Your Highness," Pearson gulped. "If you'll give me the site address, I will make sure that video is taken off. I beg you."

  I sighed. I had had it. I didn't just sleep with my stepbrother, lose my virginity and then have this puzzle sit in front of my face while Pearson continued to ignore my entreaties for clarity. I did the only thing that came to mind.

  I walked up to him and grabbed him by the collar.

  He took a step back and I kicked in the self-defense judo training that I had learned back in college, sweeping out my left leg and tripping him.

  Pearson gave a holler and flailed his arms as he began to fall backwards, but not fast enough.

  I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. I really didn't want to have to do this to someone Pearson's age, but I was about done being nice.

  "Pearson," I said, holding him up and using upper body strength I didn't even know I had. "I really think today is not the day you want to fuck with me about what you know about your precious Prince."

  My words hung in the air.

  Finally, Pearson opened his mouth. "I was asked to work with the Royal Press Secretary, shortly after Prince Silas returned from Afghanistan. Our job was to remove all traces from the public eye about his involvement in the war." He licked his lips. "I had no idea that video existed, and neither did Prince Silas - there have been so many interviews. I was thinking about how angry he'd be at me if he found out."

  I needed to know why the videos were being deleted. Why was Silas covering up history?

  "Where is he?" I asked.

  Pearson remained silent. I narrowed my eyes and eyed him again. "Pearson..." I continued.

  "He's at the Applebee's on Third and Warner," Pearson blurted out. "I'm supposed to meet him there."

  That's all I needed to know. "Thank you," I replied sweetly, helping him up.

  Pearson got to his feet and began to dust himself off. "If you don't mind my saying, Your Highness," Pearson said in an awed tone as I went to grab my keys, "I'm starting to think you're the tougher royal out of the two of you."

  But those were words were lost on me as I was heading to the garage. In a daze I drove through the streets, not even knowing why I was heading to see Silas. All I knew was that if this man, who had given me the best sex of my life, and made me feel safe, protected, and happy was walking out, I wanted the whole truth and everything in relation to that truth.

  I walked through the dark entryway of the Applebee's and saw that it was mostly empty at this hour. The early lunch crowd was starting to come in, but I had no problem spotting Silas - at his height and his build he was hard to miss.

  He was sitting at the bar, and I watched as he downed a shot of some amber looking liquid. Next to him was a blonde girl with entirely too much makeup. She wore a tank top that was one size too small that must have been meant for the nightclubs.

  Whatever. I was just going to break this party up to get my answers. That fucker owed me at least that much.

  That's when I saw her reach over and stick her tongue into Silas' ear. I stopped short as I saw her kiss him on the cheek, trailing her tongue down his stubble.

  I couldn't watch her actually kiss him. It was too much and tears came to my eyes again. I turned around quickly.

  "Miss," a waiter asked me, seeing my sudden movement. "Are you okay?"

  I nodded and said something but I don't remember in my daze. I ran out of the restaurant as fast as I could go. My heart was beating so hard I almost felt like it was going to burst.

  A part of me wanted to get away from everything this man was and anything associated with him.

  No! Not until you know the real reason he let you go the way he did! Not until you know why he broke your heart!

  If that was the case, there was only one thing I could do.

  I pulled out my phone, dialed a number, and put it to my ear.

  "Mommy?" I called out to her in my time of need into the phone. "Can you get me a jet to pick me up? I need to come home."

  After a minute of listening to my mother ask me questions and me promising to tell her once I got there, she said a jet would arrive within the hour once it was chartered. Great, I had an hour to get to the airport. Whatever, I didn't need anything from the house anyways. I called Pearson and let him know to please pick my car up from the airport and then I bought a toothbrush from 7/11.

  Prince Fucker wanted to do the 'spoiled royal' act on me, I could do it right back to that asshole. He had no idea what he had unleashed.

  13

  Silas

  “Listen love, I don’t normally threaten women,” I said as evenly as I could, turning to face the woman with the dirty blonde hair who just wouldn’t quit. “I’ve been nice and answered all of your questions, but I don't need your tongue on my chin. Touch me again and I swear to fucking God that I will break your fucking face.”

  The woman looked at me like I had just splashed cold water on her. We’d been having a decidedly one-sided conversation for the past half hour, with her asking me questions that I’d been answering in single syllable responses. I knew what she wanted – I knew what they all wanted. Fucking slut – I’d bagged dozens of them. Many of them had been ladies and other forms of nobility – masquerading as upstanding citizens by virtue of their strong PR campaigns.

  But they all paled in comparison to Becca.

  Becca – I couldn’t get my mind around her. What the fuck was I thinking? The more I told myself this was for her own good
, the more I realized that the selfish part of me wanted to be with her, saying fuck all to everything else.

  I would have been content to sit there drinking away had the blonde woman, Christine or Cherissa – or whatever the fuck her name was – not sidled up close to me and stuck her tongue into my ear, then purred out, “If you want to finish that bottle back at my place, I’d let you pour some of it over me…Your Highness.”

  Another fucking woman who read too much of the tabloid trash and watched too many fucking entertainment news shows thinking she knew who I was and looking to get a good pounding from my cock. Don’t get me wrong, just a few short weeks ago I would have happily taken her up on her offer. But that was the old Silas.

  Was it? Here I was, falling back into my old ways – trying to find comfort in the bottom of a bottle. Even two days ago, that was my MO – but that’s what had caused me to have to leave Becca.

  Enough, goddammit. I put the shot glass down onto the bar with a thud just as She decided it was time to run her tongue down the left side of my cheek.

  Now, after I had basically threatened with body slamming her, did she finally draw back. “What's up your ass?” she asked. “I was just trying to get laid.”

  “I’m sorry, love,” I sighed. I was being unfair. She was just a stupid, star-struck woman after all. “I’ve got more problems than you’d believe.”

  She gave a short laugh. “I have an unemployed boyfriend who hasn’t been able to find a job and a house that’s going to get foreclosed on,” she said. “What problems do you have, Your Highness?”

  Fuck it, I thought and said goodbye to drowning my problems in booze. I was going to go back to Becca and tell her everything. Let her decide if she wanted to be with me or not. “I’m in love with my stepsister,” I declared flatly.

  If I had body slammed Christine, she wouldn’t have jerked back any more. She looked at me in shock for a few seconds, as the gears in her brain began to work. I stared at her to see what her reaction would be. I got it after a few seconds.