Controlling Interests: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Series Book 2) by Lana Grayson Read Free Book Online Page A

hosting this barbecue? One word from Sarah and we’re fucked. What’s he think this will accomplish?”
    To humiliate me. “Appearances. The partners expect the annual barbecue.”
    “Hope they’re expecting a SWAT team and every fucking media outlet crashing the party.”
    “Sarah will behave.”
    “Why risk it?” Reed grimaced, as though he hated suggesting it. “Why not lock Sarah away? Is it worth jeopardizing everything just to screw with her?”
    “He’s not testing her.” The words tasted foul. “He’s testing me.”
    I had no patience for any further discussion, not when every word my father spoke, action he took, and unabashed glance of Sarah demanded a violence I never once condoned. I never considered myself as cruel as my father, not until I captured Sarah, until her life depended on that violence. My empire would be built upon her cries.
    I collected Sarah as the guests arrived and hoped no one would notice the bruising finally fading from her cheeks. A perfect, sun-lit barbecue awaited us, a lovely afternoon surrounded by people I once trusted.
    Sarah’s profanity would fracture the ice sculpture.
    “You can’t expect me to curtsey.”
    “He does.”
    “I don’t trust this. Darius would rather I was bound, gagged, and strapped to a bed. Not…” She shimmied, swishing the folds of her dress. “Greeting his guests.”
    “It’s a public appearance.  He’s proving to the world you aren’t…”
    “Dead in a ditch?”
    A leash made her easier to control. She might have surrendered to our passion, but without a gag in her mouth and zip-ties wrapping her wrists, Sarah would get herself hurt.
    “Just be careful here.” I led her to the main tent, into the congregation of men in suits, women in dresses, and children tangled in trust funds. “I’m not sure what he’s planning.”
    “I usually like it when Bennetts worry.” Sarah’s pale eyes flashed, the striking of flint against steel. “I still do.”
    Brave little fool.
    “There they are!” My father welcomed us with a grand wave and paraded us to his guests. “Nicholas, sit, sit.”
    He pointed me to the unoccupied chair at his right, beside a grinning Bryant Maddox and across from Jacob Fisher. It was a street fight without blades. Both men studied Sarah as though she were the smoked brisket yet to be served.
    Max caught my attention from down the table, toasting Sarah with an almost empty flute of champagne. The tumbler to his side contained only melted ice. We were off to a good start. A few seats away, Reed entertained two of our Vice Presidents, both overseeing aspects of our Research and Development branches. Strange. My father usually seated our board members and their families at our head table.
    Then again, we were down a considerable number of guests. The investors who chose Josmik over our family were, obviously, uninvited.
    “Friends.” My father stood, looping his arm around Sarah’s waist. “If I may have your attention!”
    My blood boiled.
    Sarah forced the same fake politeness she offered for the awkward wedding pictures, when her mother squished her and her brothers against us, resulting in the most dysfunctional Brady Bunch pipedream ever concocted. Only then, Sarah had nothing to fear from my father, only blatant hostility for her father’s death and the blame she placed on our family.
    Now?
    He touched her.
    Held her close.
    Rubbed his spindly fingers against her delicate hip and corrupted her innocence without even stripping her from the baby-doll dress he forced her to wear.
    “Please, allow me to introduce someone very special to me,” A monster leered at the dozens of familiar faces sharing in the Bennett wealth and pomp. “This lovely young lady is Sarah Atwood, and I am blessed to present her to you as my daughter.”
    I braced for war.
    Sarah nodded a polite greeting to those eager to ogle an Atwood. “ Step -daughter.”
    “Now, now.” He held her tighter if only to bump her hip against