Devilish - A Demon Stepbrother Romance by Michaela Adams Read Free Book Online Page A

Madewell kids. I smiled vivaciously, looking as alive and well as possible.
     
                  A reporter suddenly jumped over the rope and stormed our way, the look of determined hunger in his eyes. “Sophia! Sophia! John from Channel 7, can you give us the personal scoop on—”
     
                  I immediately took a step back but soon realized I didn't need to. Liam stepped in front of me and immediately grabbed the reporter by his jacket, swinging him away from me.
     
                  “Miss Madewell is taking no questions at this time,” Liam said, his voice quiet and smooth.
     
                  “But—But!” the reporter stammered, determined to get his piece. “What about you, Liam? Weren’t there reports—”
     
                  “Miss Madewell is not taking any questions,” Liam repeated, before throwing the reporter towards a pair of security guards rushing towards us. “And neither am I.”
     
                  Taking me firmly around the waist, Liam led me into the grandly lit foyer of the house, leaving the reporters gawking and clamoring for us.
     
                  As we stepped into the foyer, I watched as every guest dropped their jaw, stunned by your miraculous and clearly unexpected appearance. Standing in the grand marble foyer with politicians and business magnates surrounding me, I suddenly felt an overwhelming gratitude that I wasn’t alone tonight.
     
                  Feeling Liam’s strong arm around my waist, holding me close, made me feel stronger and safer. I knew it was irrational. It was crazy. But it was also true. Just as he kept that over-eager reporter away from me, I knew he would keep harm and danger away from me as well.
     
                  I wasn’t alone.
     
                  “Miss Madewell?”
     
                  I turned around. Standing behind me was Senator Sebastian Folsom. Even before the alliance between the mining companies, Senator Folsom had been a long time friend of dad’s.
     
                  Dad had always been a little protective of the sickly Senator. From a young age, Senator Folsom had had his hips broken severely and had always walked with a cane. Constantly getting sick, the man looked older than his sixty years. It was a constant source of surprise and triumph every time the public would reelect the crippled and sickly politician. But I could think of no better man to be seated in Congress.
     
                  I smiled warmly, feeling my lips tremble a bit. Seeing the Senator only reminded me of my dad. Countless dinners around the dining room table, hazy evenings of cigar smoke out on the veranda, deep laughter around snifters of scotch—all memories of my dad and the Senator that tore at my heart.
     
                  “Senator Folsom,” I said, extending my hands out to him. “How good to see you again.”
     
                  The Senator took hold of both my hands within his large left hand, his right one holding onto his cane. His lined face looked at me with awe. “Is that really you, Sophia? Is that really you?”
     
                  Fighting back the urge to cry, I squeezed his hand. “Yes, it’s me,” I said.
     
                  The Senator looked like he was about to cry himself. “But the terrible news! The terrible reports!” he said in a raspy, emotional voice. “Your father then? Is he okay as well? Your sweet mother?”
     
                  I could now feel the tears gathering at my lashes. Knowing others were watching us with unabashed interest, I shook my head and cleared my voice. “No, Senator,” I said, thankful my voice didn’t shake. “I’m afraid that part is true. Three men broke into our house and murdered my parents.”
     
                  “But you managed to get away?” the Senator