FIVE YEARS LATER…
“Dad! I’m home!” I yell before kicking the heavy wooden door closed behind me as I walk through it. Sighing heavily, I take in the mansion we now live in with a slight grimace.
Dad threw himself into his work after Mum passed, and turns out he’s really fucking good at business and made a shit ton of money. So we left our perfectly reasonable, Victorian townhouse in North London two years ago for this McMansion in Chelsea. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice. Just not home. There’s no soft, colourful furnishings that Mum loved. No sense of chaos with pictures and letters stuck to the fridge. It’s too…clean, almost like it’s a showhome, cold and empty of life. Or maybe that’s just me.
“I’m in here, Little Spark,” he calls out from the living room. Well, the yellow living room because this place is so big that we have to define our reception rooms by fucking colour. Warmth fills my chest at the sound of his voice. He isn’t often here and hasn’t been around much for the past five years, so every time he is, it feels like a gift, something to treasure.
I dump my bag on the hall table, smile at Reginald—yes, we now have an honest to fuck butler—and head to the yellow room. I chose the colour for this room when we moved in because yellow is my favourite. It’s soft, like freshly churned butter, and I spend lots of time drawing in here as the lighting is fantastic. The others I left to the interior designer that Dad hired, only this and my room holds any interest for me.
“You won’t believe what happened today—” I come up short, pausing in the doorway when I see a woman standing next to my dad, his arm wrapped around her waist as they both look at me expectantly. My stomach tenses as they just stare at me, matching smiles on their faces. “Um, hi?”
“Honey, this is Odette.” My dad beams at me, his smile wide as he turns his face away from me to gaze down at her. My heart pounds at the look he’s giving her. He’s practically glowing with hearts in his fucking eyes.
“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Ember,” she gushes in an American accent that I can’t quite place while stepping out of my father’s embrace and rushing towards me. She’s pretty, like really pretty, and maybe a little younger than Dad, although for all I fucking know she’s got a talented surgeon. Her dark brown hair is styled to perfection, falling in waves around her heart-shaped face, and her hazel eyes stare into mine as she grabs my hands, squeezing them before pulling me in for a hug.
I freeze, my arms hanging at my sides and my eyes wide as I look over at my dad. His smile is indulgent as he stares at us, his face all soft lines, and I must admit that he looks happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. He’s never brought a woman home before, and having her arms around me feels weird, like a distant memory that you can’t quite grasp. When was the last time a woman held me close like this? Was it my mother? And who is this woman that hugs me so tightly now? Who is she to my Dad?
She pulls away but keeps hold of my hands in her soft, manicured ones. Heat touches my cheeks when I see the paint under my own short nails.
“Silly me! You have no idea who I am, and here’s me already celebrating the fact that I’ve finally got a daughter.” She titters, and I find the back of my teeth hurting with the sound.
“W–what?” My pulse rushes past my ears at her words, and I can’t help but blink rapidly as if that will help to make sense of her words. My hands hang loosely in Odette’s, shock rendering me immobile, unable to react aside from blinking like an idiot. Daughter?
“Honey,” Dad starts as he walks over to us, deep laugh lines at the corners of his eyes when he once again wraps his arms around Odette’s waist. He’s completely oblivious to my shock, only having eyes for the woman before me. Though why I’m surprised he doesn’t notice my obvious discomfort when he’s never around is just another way I torture myself, stuck in the way that things used to be before Mum passed away. “I have some exciting news. Odette and I—”
“We got married!” Odette interrupts loudly, letting go of one of my hands to flash her left hand at me. There on her ring finger sit two rings, both white gold and one with a fucking massive diamond in the middle.
My stomach plummets, my skin going ice-cold as I look at the bands, then slowly back up into their faces. Both have huge grins, and I just stand there, barely able to breathe, let alone say anything. There’s a tightness in my chest that feels like betrayal. How could he have not only dated her in secret but married her all without saying a single fucking thing to me?
The past five years since Mum passed away have been tough. It wasn’t obvious at first that Dad was withdrawing, spending more time at work, going on extended business trips, and missing things that were important to me until I rarely saw him at home. It’s like he’s become a stranger, and in a way, why should I be surprised that I knew nothing of Odette when he didn’t tell me anything about his life?
“Aren’t you going to wish your father and I congratulations?” Odette questions, her smile looking a little forced the longer I remain silent. Her grip on my hand becomes almost painful, and I have to swallow the wince that wants to escape as she practically crushes my fingers in hers. I want to pull away, my body screaming at me to take my hand back, but I’m at war with myself, not wanting to cause a scene or do anything to upset my dad. It’s like because he’s here, I’m terrified that he’ll leave again if I make the wrong move.
I lick my dry lips, swallowing nothing as I try to form the word. Don’t rock the boat, Ember. I’m sure he has a reason for not telling you… It’s wishful thinking on my part though that he’ll let me know what that reason is. “C–congratulations.”
I hate that I don’t call him out for not telling me, for keeping such a huge secret, and showing me that yet again, I don’t factor into his life anymore. I should have learnt that lesson the first time he missed one of my school art exhibitions because of some work thing, but like a fool, I can’t help but keep holding out that he’ll change back to the dad I knew before Mum died. I have to widen my lids, moisture threatening to gather in my eyes and spill down my cheeks at the fucking shock of it all.
He’s married?
“Hey, Little Spark,” my dad says soothingly, reaching around and placing a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. His touch is like a balm, and some of the tension slips from me even though I know I should hold onto my anger at being left out and should express it in some way, but I just can’t, the cross words unable to leave my mouth as I look into the eyes of the only family I have left. He held me like this the day we stood by my mother’s grave, but this couldn’t be further from that reality. “I know it feels like a big surprise, and I’m sorry I didn’t talk about it with you sooner, but I’m happy.” His lips tilt up into a smile, the kind I’ve not seen in a long time. “Odette makes me happier than I’ve felt since…”
Since Mum died. I know that’s what he means, and suddenly, I feel like the worst bitch alive. I take a deep, shaking breath before plastering a smile on my face that only wavers a little and blinking back the tears. I’m mostly successful.
“If you’re happy, then so am I.” I tell them both, noticing the way Odette’s smile drops slightly as she looks at me, a frown threatening her botoxed brow. “Welcome to the family, Odette.” I glance at my Dad, hoping he doesn’t notice my robotic tone or the way my smile is so brittle it’s liable to snap off.
Her face instantly smooths as my dad gazes down at her, and I wonder briefly why she hid her annoyance from him.
“That means so much, Ember, and I really can’t wait to spend more time with you, just us girls together. Lord knows I need it after being surrounded by the boys these past few years.” She giggles, the sound making me inwardly wince as it’s like nails on a chalkboard, high-pitched and just fake as fuck. Rein in your inner bitch, Ember.
“Boys?” I ask, my forehead wrinkling as I hear the front door opening followed by the sounds of several people talking, and by the low timbre of their voices, it’s several guys.
“Ember, these are your new stepbrothers,” my father introduces, a gleam of yearning in his tone. He has always wanted a son, yet I ended up being his only child. Sweat makes my palms slick, I catch the flicker of Odette’s lip curling just as my stomach flips. How can I share him after all this time? After all these years of it just being us? He barely has any time for me, and now I have to not only share him with another woman but who knows how many boys too? My breathing rasps as panic looms at the edges of my vision.
I turn, letting go of Odette’s hand, and once again am rooted to the spot as four boys step through the door, chasing my panic away and replacing it with a bolt of lust that is really bloody inappropriate given who these guys are to me. Though, perhaps boys is the wrong descriptor. Men, or maybe even gods would be more accurate because Jesus fucking Christ they are unlike any boys I’ve ever seen before.
Four pairs of eyes lock onto me, four gazes that somehow make me feel like a deer caught in headlights even though not a word is spoken.
“Hello, little sister, nice to meet you.” My chest tightens and my breathing becomes shallow as a guy with walnut-coloured hair and a closely cropped beard steps forward from the group. His hair is longer on the top and has that artful bedhead look I guess took him some fucking time to master. Or maybe he’s just blessed with messy hair.
His voice is deep, American, and has a low drawl that sets my nerves tingling and my core pulsing. Not to mention the dark ink that peeks from his collar and over the thick column of his throat. He has a small tattoo under one eye, and a hoop through his left nostril that adds to his bad boy persona. I can’t move, frozen by his mere proximity as he steps up to me, so close that my breasts brush his chest, my nipples stiffening at the light contact, and I have to crane my neck in order to look him in the eyes. Irises the colour of bright copper pennies stare back at me, and they’re such an unusual colour that I’m captivated, unable to look away from the intensity of his stare.
He reminds me of when the clocks go back and suddenly it’s darker than it was the day before, leaving you fearful and out of sync, wondering where the time has gone. A shiver cascades across my skin and his lips lift in a devastating smirk.
I take a stuttering inhale through my nose and am flooded with the tart scent of crisp apples mixed with the sweet smell of caramel. My eyelids close reflexively as he leans in, a large hand landing on my waist and heating the skin underneath my school shirt before he presses his lips to my cheek in a barely-there kiss, his scruff tickling my skin.
“Fucking delicious,” I think I hear him say in a deep, gravelly whisper, the hand at my waist tightening ever so slightly and letting me know I didn’t imagine his possessive touch. He pulls back but his palm remains there, warming me in a way that I don’t hate. My mind tells me this is weird given he’s my stepbrother, but my body is saying hello to the handsome devil before me. “I’m Caspian.” His American accent is different than Odette’s, and I wonder why they sound different. If I had to guess, it sounds like maybe he’s from New York, but as that’s based solely on films and endless reruns of Friends, I could be wrong.
I swallow once. Twice. “N–nice to meet you.”
“Hey, quit hogging her, big bro!” another low voice cries out, also with an American accent but different again to Odette and Caspian’s. Why do they sound different? If these are her sons wouldn’t they all have the same accent?
Caspian is shoved aside to be replaced with one of the others whose hair is lighter than his brother’s, a honey brown, and he screams surfer vibes with it falling in soft waves framing a gorgeously handsome face. My lips want to tug up to match the beaming smile of his own but I keep the impulse in check, not wanting to give that part of me away just yet. His eyes are a beautiful clear blue, like a tropical sea shining under a sun-kissed sky, and everything about him calms my frantic pulse. That he puts me at ease with such little effort is a huge red flag though. It’s always the most charming devils that will take your soul. “We’ve always wanted a little sister.”
I let out a squeak as I’m abruptly wrapped up in a tight hug, my feet dangling off the floor when I’m lifted off the ground. Damn, tall bastard. I position my hands on his muscular shoulders as another kiss is placed upon my cheek, which is now tingling due to all the attention, and I’m feeling pretty hot suddenly, sweat beading down my spine as he sets me on my feet again. My hands refuse to move from his muscular shoulders, my grip tightening ever so slightly to feel just how stacked he is. His cheeky smirk tells me he knows exactly what I’m doing and doesn’t hate it. A distinctive floral scent fills my nostrils, and it reminds me of rolling around the wild meadows back on Hampstead Heath in North London as a child.
I look over his shoulder to my dad, to see if he’s noticed the very friendly way my new brothers are greeting me, but he only has eyes for Odette, gazing at her as if she hung the moon. She trails a finger down his chest and my nose wrinkles at the come fuck me eyes she gives him. That’s a bit gross.
“You never were good at sharing,” a third voice teases with the same accent as the guy currently holding me, and then I’m torn from his embrace, my head spinning as I stare at the same man who just had me in his arms. But no, his eyes are a darker blue, like a stormy sea ready to swallow any unfortunate souls sailing on it. His hair is the same honey shade as his brother’s, but it’s shorter and far less tousled. He holds me at arm’s length, his eyes raking over me, burning a path across my body, and I shudder. “Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing.”
My lips part as my cheeks heat and I take a deep inhale, getting a faint whiff of lime, mimosa, and cedar, which does strange things to my insides.
“So pretty,” the first twin answers, crowding next to the newcomer whose hands still grasp my upper arms in a firm grip. “But where are our manners, brother? I’m Octavious or Oct, and this is my twin, Christopher or Kit.”
“P–pleased to meet you both,” I stutter. “I’m Ember.”
“Oh, we know all about you, Pretty Thing,” Chri—Kit purrs. The way he calls me pretty sends another tremor along my nerves.
“Y–you do?” My brows dip, because until they walked in, I knew sweet fuck all about these guys. How did they know about me? Did Dad meet them already? My chest tightens at the thought that I’ve been left out once more, becoming an outsider in my own family.
“We do, Sugar,” a last voice informs me, and oh my gods. His deep, southern drawl has my kitty cat up and demanding tummy rubs, which is highly fucking inappropriate given that they’re my stepbrothers. The twins part, Kit’s hands dropping as another sinfully gorgeous guy steps towards me. His hair is pitch black, so dark that it almost has blue highlights. His eyes are a bright, sparkling green that leaves me gasping for breath, filling my nose with the intoxicating scent of rum, leather, and spice. “We know everything about you, Ember.” I swallow as he, too, steps into me, forcing my head up in order to maintain eye contact. They’re all taller than I am, not difficult at my five foot five and a half, but this one is taller than the others. Maybe a little older too as there’s an air of maturity about him that the others don’t have, like he has more responsibilities than them somehow. Swirls of colourful ink peek out from his collar, and a spark of electricity runs through me. I’m a sucker for tattoos on a guy. “I’m Prince, the eldest one.”
“N–nice to m–meet you, Prince.” I’m so pissed at sounding like a simpering damsel, but give a girl a break. A lot has happened in the past ten minutes. He leans closer, dipping his head to place his lips against my cheek in a lingering kiss and I swear to all that is holy, sparks fly from where he makes contact.
“It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance too, Ember,” he replies while taking a small step back, and I would laugh at his old-fashioned way of speaking but I can’t look away from his eyes which are locked on mine. They sparkle and shine like the green sapphires I saw once in a jewellery store in Hatton Gardens. Then he reaches down, takes my hand in his, and brings it up to his pillowy lips, brushing my knuckles with a barely-there kiss and sending my pulse skyrocketing.
“Well,” my father states, breaking the spell that Prince has me under, and I look towards my dad as he walks over to us and claps the twins on the back. My brows gather together as I study him, but he seems completely oblivious to the fact that my new ‘brothers’ are showing way more than brotherly affection to me. Then again, I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s not exactly paid me much attention these past five years, too wrapped up in work to notice that I was grieving too. Although apparently, not too busy to find himself a new wife and four sons. “You boys must be tired after travelling today. Ember, can you show them to their rooms?”
My attention snaps over to the guys to see that they look like they’ve been on a journey. Their T-shirts are wrinkled and there’s an air of tiredness about them all that only travel gives you. I don’t recall Odette being the same, but maybe she arrived earlier, which would have been strange. Or maybe she’s just not the type of person to allow a wrinkle anywhere near her. My father’s words hit me then.
“Their rooms?” I ask, biting my lower lip as I frown. I swear I hear a soft growl from nearby, which can’t be right as we don’t have a dog, much to my disappointment. Why does he not ask Reginald, our butler, to show them?
“Of course, Little Spark. Where did you think they were going to stay? We’re a family now,” my dad answers, his smile so wide that it reaches his eyes and leaves them sparkling.
A family. I thought we already were a family…
“Silly me.” I give a small huff that I mean to be a laugh, but it sounds strained instead as I try to swallow the hurt that keeps threatening to spill out of my mouth. Fingers give my hand a squeeze, and I startle, looking down to see Prince still holding it. “W–where are their bedrooms?” I ask, looking back up at my dad and ignoring the way Prince’s hand feels so comforting in mine, like it belongs there.
“We thought it would be best if they were in your wing, Ember,” Odette informs me, coming over and wrapping her hands around my father’s bicep. She reminds me of a possessive snake, claiming its prize and warning off any others. The thought sends unease running through me. Plus, it’s strange that she’s not greeted the boys, her sons, isn’t it? There must be a story there given how close all the boys look in age. They also don’t look alike, aside from the twins that is. Maybe they’re half-brothers? Although that wouldn’t explain the different accents as surely they would all sound similar if they kept moving as children? My head spins with all the questions racing around it, and I shake it as if to clear it.
“Oh–um–sure,” I reply, back to the stammering idiot as my dad and Odette smile at me. So not only have I lost my father but also my private space? Way to sound like an entitled little rich bitch, Ember. I’ll still have my own room, and a part of me wonders if I can lose something that I didn’t really have in the first place. Taking a deep inhale, I look back at the guys, my new stepbrothers, their beauty stealing my breath for a moment. “Do you guys want to follow me?”
“Lead the way, Pretty Thing,” Kit tells me with a smile that should really be illegal because my brain short-circuits and I can’t remember my own fucking name, let alone what we were about to do.
“The bedrooms, Sugar?” Prince adds after an embarrassingly long moment, and I blink several times, heat colouring my cheeks again.
“Right, yep, um, this way then.” Please, for the love of all that is holy, someone either smite me now or stop me from sounding like such a twat.
I take a step forward, then pause when my hand tugs, and I glance over my shoulder to see Prince still clasping it. He gives me what I can only describe as a smouldering smile—whoops, there goes my knickers—and then raises his brows as if I’m the one holding us up again.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I spin and lead us out of the room towards the staircase, gorgeous stepbrothers in tow and Prince still holding my hand like he owns it.
Fuck. My. Life.
Only I would get cursed with four hot-as-hell stepbrothers. Fate clearly thinks that she’s a funny bitch. Well, I’ll be sending her the bill when my vibrator breaks from all the overuse it’ll be getting from now on.
“Oh, you won’t need a vibrator now that we’re here,” Oct’s teasing voice says far too loudly as we walk up the stairs. My eyes widen and my body jerks to a halt as I realise I must have spoken aloud, and Prince bumps into me, his hand clinging to mine while his other comes around me to hold me steady. Fire races from every part of me he touches, and once again, my brain has up and left, leaving my pussy in charge, who’s rolling over and waiting for belly rubs.
“He’s right, Sugar,” Prince whispers in my ear, and I can’t take a single inhale as his warm, rum-scented breath washes over me like a soft, teasing caress. “After all, what are brothers for if not to take care of their sister in times of need?”
Lightning traces across my entire body at his words, and I can’t fucking breathe. It’s just so much to take in. A new stepmother, and four gorgeous stepbrothers that my body craves even though it’s all kinds of fucked up and wrong. Add the fact that they talk like this, like they might want me as much as I seem to want them…
“Breathe, Little Cinders.” Caspian’s copper eyes fill my gaze, his warm palms cupping my face, and I take a gasping inhale, the flood of oxygen filling my lungs and leaving me lightheaded. “That’s it. Good girl.” My eyelids flutter at the praise, and his thumbs stroke my cheeks, soothing me. “These assholes didn’t mean to overwhelm you, we’re just excited is all. You’re more than we could have ever hoped for.”
“I–I am?” My voice is soft, barely above a breath, but he hears it and gives me a smile that warms me down to my toes.
“So much more,” Prince murmurs against my ear, and I sink back into him, despite my mind screaming that this is wrong. It seems like my body is giving her the middle finger and taking what it wants right now.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Pretty Thing,” Kit says from next to us, and my head turns slowly, as if it’s underwater, only to be caught in his stormy stare.
“Gorgeous,” Oct adds from the other side, and I swing my gaze to him, letting myself get lost in his sparkling, blue eyes.
“Boys…” Caspian warns in a dark tone, and they all step away, even Prince, his hand falling from mine. I’m suddenly left feeling bereft while moisture threatens to fill my eyes, and I want to hide but Caspian’s grip on my cheeks won’t let me, and his face softens the longer I stare at him. “Let’s get to the rooms, okay?” I nod as a single tear escapes. I don’t know why I feel like bawling my eyes out, but the lump in my throat won’t go away. He leans in, kissing the tear away and my body relaxes the moment his lips make contact. A part of me knows that I shouldn’t feel this…that I shouldn’t feel comfortable with him, but he’s like the balm my soul needed and has been yearning for for so long. “It’ll be okay, Little Cinders. We’ll make sure of it.”
His words give me the strength that I didn’t know I needed, and my hand reaches up, taking one of his off my cheek and tangling our fingers together.
“Okay.” A long exhale falls from my lips and the smile that he gives me is the stuff that poets dream about. “This way.”
CASPIAN
Fucking captivating.
Ember Jane Everly is utterly spellbinding and I can see my stepbrothers are just as affected as I am. Our obsession with her took root six months ago when Odette told us about her and we found pictures of her online, but none of them did her justice as her beauty is incomparable.
We’ve been watching her ever since and following her socials. Oct even tracks her movements using his computer skills, discovering every little detail about her. Like the fact that she doesn’t go out much, doesn’t really have any close friends, and mostly stays at home. It was the ultimate tease, not knowing what she was up to every second of the day since this house doesn’t have cameras, so we couldn’t watch her as much as we’d have liked.
The lack of information online didn’t stop our fixation and didn’t stop us from pouring over every picture we could get hold of, fantasising about what we’d do once we finally got her to ourselves.
I didn’t exactly lie when I told her we would look after her, that we would make sure everything was alright, but Odette promised us a plaything of our very own, a gift for being such good and dutiful sons, and we intend to indulge all of our darkest fantasies.
I just didn’t expect to find her so…addicting. I clutch her hand in mine, Prince giving me the stink eye even though he knows that I’m the best one out of us all for calming her down. I’ve got just the right amount of command and care.
Prince, on the other hand, wants to devour her and infect every part of her until she doesn’t know who she is anymore. He may come across as a Southern gentleman, but he craves the ultimate control that only comes with ownership. The twins are tricksters, they’ll play with her until she doesn’t even realise that she’s been broken. Oh, she’ll enjoy every moment, but she’ll be destroyed by the time they’re through.
And me? I want to take care of her, wrap her up and smother her until she doesn’t see anyone else, until she can anticipate my every desire and is desperate to fulfil it.
We’ve had years to dream about what it would be like to truly be in charge for once. To get what we crave most. For too long we’ve had to obey, and while it’s been fun, it’s also been a mind fuck that has threatened to destroy us. So to finally have some control is a heady feeling that none of us will give up anytime soon.
Ember just happens to be the only one, the only thing, that we have ever had control over.
And we plan to keep a tight rein on her.
