Page 32 of Contract of a Billionaire

I sat in my office,in the building I owned, away from thefatherwho gave me my last name. It was pretty much all he fucking gave me.

It was only ten in the morning. It has been six hours and thirty eight minutes since I’d dropped Autumn off and I already fucking missed her. So goddamn much that I had to ponder whether I was feverish.

I pulled out my phone and checked Autumn’s Instagram. She often posted pictures and updates on it. Today was no exception. I had to be ancient or she had to be way too young, but that girl lived on social platforms. It served me well over the last four years.

I stared at the photo.

Tousled red sheets and raven black mane sprawled on the pillow like a fan. You couldn’t see her face, but I knew exactly what it meant.

She was no longer a virgin.

The usual acid didn’t come. Instead, a strange sensation sparked in my chest. She gave me a big piece of her, but she also took something from me. I just couldn’t quite figure out what.

I skimmed through her other photos, although I’d seen them before. I’d been stalking her Instagram for the past four years. From a burner phone and anonymous account. Yeah, I was too old to stalk a twenty-something woman.

Yet, here I was. Although this didn’t compare to the fucked up way the Nikolaev brothers stalked. Especially Sasha when he was in for the kill. So yeah, I was much better.

A knock shattered the silence and I flicked my gaze up to Branka entering without waiting for a response.

“Why do you knock if you are going to enter regardless?” I grumbled.

Much like her friend, she rolled her eyes at me. Do these two realize I’ve killed men for less?

“Whatever.”

I leaned back in my chair and locked my gaze on my little sister who wasn’t so little anymore. Nico made an interesting remark yesterday that I hadn’t thought about until that moment. Unless I secured her a match with a family that could protect her, Branka could end up being targeted just for sharing the same last name as our bastard father. He had a bad habit of double-crossing powerful men, and they wouldn’t blink an eye to end her for his sins.

My enemies wouldn’t hesitate to come after her too. I’d have to find a way to protect her before Father made a deal with another sadistic asshole to sell Branka.

Tabling the thought for now, I waited for Branka to say whatever she came here to say. I knew her well enough to know she needed to talk. Otherwise, she’d never step foot in my office.

She reminded me of Mia. Our dead sister. Branka didn’t remember her much. She was young when Mia committed suicide. She survived our parents. She fucking went into a war and survived. But it took a group of dickheads to drive her to suicide. It was a bitter fucking pill to swallow.

Ironically, it was Sasha Nikolaev who ended them. He happened to be on a similar rotation and found those fuckers raping her. My only regret was that Sasha killed them before I could.

My expression darkened at the memory of that funeral. My mother didn’t cry. Father came to the gravesite as they lowered Mia’s casket into the ground. I didn’t cry but my eyes burned; my fucking chest hurt like a motherfucker.

Branka was the only one who cried that day. Her hand was pressed against her chest. The second I spotted the faded cigarette burn on her hand, a red mist descended over me. I had no idea how I found myself on top of my father, beating him black and blue right above Mia’s casket.

After someone pulled me off of him, I took Branka away from him and our mother, and moved her in with me.

“Should I leave?” Branka’s voice pulled me from the past.

“No.”

Flicking a nervous look my way, Branka sat down in the empty chair across from me, my desk the only thing separating us.

A deep exhale filled the air. “Are you mad?” she blurted out.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific,” I retorted dryly. I wondered if Autumn told her what had happened between the two of us last night. Maybe I should be asking my sister whether she was mad I’d banged her best friend.

But I wouldn’t, because that would imply I’d stop if she was mad, and I had no intention of stopping it.

Branka let out another deep sigh. “That I didn’t ask you about going with Autumn on her world photography adventure.”

“When did you and Autumn decide that?” I questioned her.

“On our way to Fleur’s, Autumn and I got to talking. I told her how much I hated to be in the same city as Father, and she invited me to come along,” she answered. “If I can’t use my money, she even offered to help with expenses.” Branka’s fingers wrapped around her wrist. It was her nervous habit. Too many broken wrists in her childhood. “I’ll pay for it too.”