The Cousins and The Brunette: A Billionaire Romance by Callie Sky

Author:Callie Sky [Sky, Callie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Forever and Always Books
Published: 2024-08-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

BRYNN AND THE MANICURED LAWN

As I emerged from the dank, subterranean world of the Porter cousins’ basement cell, the blinding light of day stung my eyes. My legs, unaccustomed to freedom, carried me shakily through New Boston’s opulent Elite district. The immaculate streets were lined with palatial homes that gleamed like jewels under the sun’s unforgiving scrutiny. Autonomous cars glided silently by, their sleek designs showing off the wealth that saturated this part of the city.

I passed an Elite woman draped in fabrics that probably cost more than everything I’d ever owned. Her lips curled in a sneer, her cold stare narrowing as though my very presence sullied the air she breathed. Beside her, a maid offered me a conspiratorial smile, a fleeting moment of solidarity that warmed me more than the sun overhead.

Finally, Mr. Shoemaker’s grand mansion loomed before me, its façade imposing and cold. Swallowing hard, I approached the door—this gilded threshold where my charade had once begun—and knocked. The door swung open, and Mr. Chad Shoemaker stood in the doorway, looking every inch the untouchable Elite in his tailored suit.

“Mr. Shoemaker, I—”

“What are you doing here, Brynn?” His voice was as controlled as ever, yet the ice behind each syllable made my blood run cold.

Well, shit. I’d hoped for a slightly warmer welcome, but this was Chad Shoemaker we were talking about. The man probably practiced his icy glares in the mirror every morning.

“Look, it’s not like I wanted to come back yet,” I said, matching his calm with my own brand of defiance. “The Porters figured out who I really am. They’ve kicked me out. I’m sorry, but the jig is up or whatever.”

Mr. Shoemaker’s expression warped suddenly. His brow furrowed deeply, veins bulging at his temples. His eyes narrowed to slits, and lips pulled back in a grimace that bared his teeth, making his entire face look almost grotesque with raw frustration.

I’d seen a lot of ugly things on the streets of New Boston, but watching Mr. Shoemaker’s face contort like that? That was a special kind of horror show. I took a step back, then another. The man had crazy eyes.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he hissed, stepping outside, his gaze darting around as if afraid of prying eyes. “The Porters…they were my buyers for the Nant-bots. But I went for a higher bid. And now? This. They take it out on my ‘daughter’ crap.” His fingers curled into air quotes, mocking. “What did you do to ruin the facade?”

Not only was I out of a job, but now I was getting blamed for his screw-ups. Typical Elite BS.

“Me? Nothing!” I shot back, anger flaring in my chest. “Joel discovered I was lying and he had proof. The cousins had printed photos of your daughter—the real Elizabeth. They knew I was an imposter. I’m probably lucky that Joel let me leave without any broken bones or worse.”

Around us, the mansion’s opulence felt almost oppressive; the long curving driveway, the trimmed hedges and green lawn, the air sibilant with the odor of affluence and arrogance.

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