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Автор Коллин Мастерс

Copyright © 2014 Hearts Collective

All rights reserved. This document may not be reproduced in any way without the expressed written consent of the author. The ideas, characters, and situations presented in this story are strictly fictional, and any unintentional likeness to real people or real situations is completely coincidental.

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STEPBROTHER BILLIONAIRE

by Colleen Masters

  CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Chapter One

“I thought you said this was going to be a small gathering,” I shout, raising my voice above the blaring music. I can feel the pounding bass line vibrating through my body as I hesitate at the edge of the gigantic house party.

“Did I say that?” my best friend, Riley, grins back. “I meant to say that this was going to be an ‘epic rager unlike anything you’ve ever seen’. ”

I roll my eyes at her as we’re swallowed up by the teeming crowd of our classmates. I should have known better than to think that Riley would spend her Saturday night anywhere but at a legendary party. She and I have been best friends for all seventeen years we’ve been on the planet. But even so, our ideas of what makes a “good time” are starkly different. If I had any sense at all, I would never have let her drag me to this party. I’d much rather be curled up at home with my sketch pad and a cup of tea.

But seeing that the damage is done, I suppose there’s nothing to do but try and have a good time.

“Here you go ladies,” a burly junior boy says, sidling up to us with a red plastic cup in either hand. “First drink’s on me. ”

“Warm beer, now with extra roofies?” Riley says, cocking a perfect eyebrow at him.

“We’re all set, Champ,” I tell the boy, producing a flask full of my dad’s very fine whiskey from my purse. It’s not like he’s using it much, these days. “Better luck next time. ”

“What a couple of buzz kills,” the kid grumbles, sulking away.

“Great party so far Ri,” I laugh sarcastically, unscrewing the top of the flask.

“Just remember, Abby—in less than a year, we’ll never have to deal with high school boys again,” she points out, accepting the flask as I pass it her way.

“I can’t wait,” I say wistfully, “I know you’re not supposed to wish away your youth or whatever, but the sooner high school can be over with, the better. ”