Billionaire Stepbrother: Winter (Our Forbidden Year Book 3) by Emilia Beaumont Read Free Book Online

buckled beneath her, and she leaned her hands upon the counter.
    “Or two,” a second finger joined the first, “I reveal the contents of this folder to him, and he divorces you anyway. You’ll be ruined. They’ll be no settlement, no money. Nothing.”
    I was beginning to enjoy this, seeing her face break, her whole life coming apart at the seams that she’d desperately fashioned for herself. As I leaned in to whisper in her ear, her overbearing perfume nearly made me gag. “At least with option one, you’ll be entitled to a small but generous portion of the estate, and you’ll save yourself the indignity of being dragged through the tabloids like a common whore.”
    Loretta closed her eyes and shuddered. Upon opening them, she reached for the file and flicked through the first couple of pages.
    “You have to understand, I had nothing…”
    “I don’t care,” I said.
    She paced the kitchen tiles. “You have three seconds to decide,” I said, piling on the pressure.
    Bloody hell, if looks could kill. But then her face crumpled. She knew what she had to do to survive. And if I knew Loretta like I thought I did, she would never consider gambling her future on a man, my father, who’d already had his heart broken once.
    Loretta breathed in, air rushing audibly through her nasal cavity. “You have a deal,” she finally said and exhaled. She gathered up the folder, ready to take it with her.
    “Leave that where it is.”
    She sighed and dropped it.
    “Loretta, one more thing.”
    She turned, her wrinkled face worn and defeated.
    “Does she even know?”
    “Does who know what?” Loretta spat back with a trace of venom, some fight still left in her.
    “Does Aimee know you’re not her real mother?”
    A sly grin, one that could only be described as wicked, filled every wrinkle on her twisted face.
    “Oh, doesn’t it tell you that in your file?” Loretta turned, leaving the kitchen, and walked confidently to my father’s side to deliver heart–breaking news.
    He’d get over it, I hoped.

Chapter Nine

    I followed a couple of seconds behind her, trying to keep the smile of victory from my face. I laid a hand upon Aimee’s upper arm and leaned down. “Get up. We’re leaving.”
    “What? Why?” she asked, her eyes darting from me to her mother.
    “Michael, I want a divorce,” Loretta interrupted loudly.
    Aimee gasped, and my father spluttered. His rosy face drained of colour, making him look a lot older than his sixty plus years.
    “What in heaven’s name for? And does it have to be right this moment? For Christ’s sake, it’s Christmas fucking day, Loretta!” my father declared, slamming his hand hard upon the mahogany table, making the red candlesticks wobble.
    “What’s going on? I don’t understand,” Aimee said as I pulled her from her chair.
    “Let’s leave them to it, and I’ll explain everything,” I said. The voices escalated behind us as we walked towards the elevator. My fingers stroked down her wrist and entwined with hers. We held hands, waiting for the elevator to arrive; I didn’t care if they saw us, but by all accounts, they weren’t paying attention.
    Grateful that she’d chosen to leave with me willingly, I fought the urge to ask her if she forgave me.
    “Merry Christmas – I hope you like your present,” I said as we stepped into the enclosed space.
    “I don’t understand. Did you just break up our family?” Aimee trailed off, the penny finally hitting bottom after a long drop.
    “Are you sure you read at Oxford? I thought they only let smart people in,” I teased.
    “Jerk,” she giggled. The Aimee I knew started to return, her face lighting up, no longer cowering in her Mother’s shadow. “Does this mean…”
    “Yes, it means exactly what you think it means; there’s nothing stopping us now.”
    We got into the waiting car, and I slid the privacy divider up; Steve wouldn’t mind.
    “Is there anywhere particular you’d like to go? Anywhere in the