Wicked Game: a Billionaire Stepbrother Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

need the publicity.”
    “For what?”
    By now, we were surrounded.  My heart sank.  There was no way we were getting out of this one anymore.  I would become just another name in the gossip column about Damien’s playboy exploits, and this time I’d be known for jumping his bones before his father was even cold in the ground.  My dreams of becoming a curator at any place outside of “Jim Bob’s Oklahoma Corn Museum” were completely dead.
    “Who’s she?” one paparazzo shouted.
    Here lies Cleo’s future, rest in peace.
    “Her?”  Damien’s voice was cheery, as if he didn’t understand exactly how disastrous this was.  On a scale of spilled milk to Chernobyl, this was the mass extinction comet that wiped out the dinosaurs.  “A very special lady!”
    Oh God.  That tone.  
    That ‘I’ve got a secret, would you like to hear?’ tone.
    That tone never meant anything good, not when it came to Damien.
    Damien smiled, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close to him.  My fingers clenched into a fist.  Not because he was dangerous—but because this felt too damn good, and I seriously needed to get away before I did something stupid.  Even now, as my life was crumbling around me, being close to him still did things to me.  I couldn’t let that happen.  Just because I didn’t hate him anymore didn’t mean I liked him, or even trusted him.  
    And anyway, a cocky motherfucker like Damien needed a good slap to the face for once.
    But I didn’t get the chance.  
    Because Damien smiled easily, squeezed my waist, and turned to the cameras.
    “Tell us who she is!” someone yelled.
    “Of course.”  He grinned out at the cameras and planted a massive kiss on the top of my head.  I froze as his hand patted my hip lovingly.  
    “What are you—” I hissed under my breath.
    He interrupted me.  
    “Everyone, meet my wife.”  

“Wife?”
    “Look.  Cleo.  I know—”
    “ Wife ?”
    “We can talk about this.  We can be reasonable.  I know it’s a lot to take in all at once, but once we settle down and really talk about this like adults—”
    “ Fucking wife ?!”
    “Yes, Cleo,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  Damien leaned back against one of the bookshelves that lined his office walls, shaking his head at me like I was the one being ridiculous here.  Like I was the one who just told a crowd of reporters from the biggest news agencies in the country that I was marrying my billionaire stepbrother.  Like I was the one who had totally ruined Cleo’s Big Plan to Escape This City and Never See Damien Again.
    I stood in front of him, my face turning red with rage.  
    My fists clenched and unclenched.  
    We had finally made it inside the massive Blackwood mansion and settled ourselves in Damien’s office, but I could still feel the invading eyes of the paparazzi all around us.  I could practically hear their camera shutters and scuffling feet outside the door.  Worst of all, I could already see the headlines that would be everywhere tomorrow.  All of them surrounding a big, fat picture of Cleopatra Bishop in deathly shock as her billionaire stepbrother delivered the emotional bomb of a lifetime in front of a crowd of strangers.
    A crowd of strangers with cameras .
    Maybe right now was a good time to give Damien that well-deserved slap.
    “You have ten seconds,” I hissed.  “Ten seconds to explain, and maybe I won’t kill you.  If I’m feeling nice today.  Which I’m not.”
    “Unclench your fists first, Sis.”
    “Six seconds before the next big headline is your black eye.”
    “Damn, I love it when you’re feisty.”
    “Two seconds before I put you in a coffin.”
    “Ouch, Cleo.”
    My frown softened.  He was right.  I probably should have remembered we had just gotten back from his dad’s funeral.  It was a low blow, even for Damien.  Even if he and his dad had never really liked each other… which was an understatement.  
    It was shitty,