Page 4 of Broken

“He’s a busy man. He’ll be down when he’s ready,” she huffs.

Yeah, busy playing online poker or jerking off to cam girls.

I stare at the clock, watching the minutes tick slowly and painfully by while my mother and I sit in silence, waiting for her precious firstborn. Fifteen minutes later, he finally decides to grace us with his presence, strutting into the room like he’s the king of the goddamn world. He’s not even king of his own bedroom. Spoiled mama’s boy.

He flicks his ash-blond hair out of his eyes and preens in the mirror before taking a seat at the table. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, not wanting to ignite his legendary short temper.

He puffs out his chest. “I’ve found a solution to our money problems, dear sister.”

Not my money problems, jackass.Youwere in charge of the trust fund.Youmisused it and left our family almost broke. But I bite my tongue and smile sweetly. It’s the only way to handle him and our mother. “That’s good to know. I’m happy for you.”

His right eyelid twitches. “It’s not just about me. I’m doing this for all our futures. For you and Ashley too.”

The mention of our younger sister’s name makes annoyance prickle beneath my skin. He’s never done anything for her other than screw her over. She almost lost her place at the college of her dreams because of him.

“I don’t need money, Bryce. I’m happy at my job, and I love living with Tyler.”

He snorts. “You’re thirty years old, and you’re happy living with our eccentric cousin?”

“If by eccentric you mean incredibly successful, gregarious, and funny, then yes, very happy, thanks.” Bryce has always hated Tyler. He is faster, stronger, smarter, and better looking than my big brother, and that’s always pissed him off. I suspect his use of eccentric is code for gay, because in addition to his many other flaws, my brother is also a raging homophobe. Not to mention the irony of a thirty-five-year-old man who still lives with his mother calling me out for living with my best friend, who just happens to be my cousin. Tyler and I were born on the same day and have been almost inseparable since.

Bryce’s face twists in a sneer. “Well, thisproposalis much more suited to a daughter of Luke and Miranda Edison.”

The way he says proposal has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “What exactly are you talking about? What does any of this have to do with me? I told you, I have no interest in the family money. Not that there’s any left.”

He raises his hand like he’s going to smack me across the face for that last remark, but he quickly remembers where he is. My mother and her housekeeper are watching, and hitting his sister in front of them might just tarnish his good-guy reputation. No, he prefers to wait until we’re alone for that. Not that I think my mother would even care.

“There’s nothing left because our father made such poor business decisions,” he spits.

Anger simmers inside me. That’s a dirty lie, and he knows it. But I clamp my lips shut. I’ve been conditioned since I was thirteen to never question Bryce Edison. Placing my hands on my lap, I dig my fingernails into my palms and try to suppress the rage that wants to erupt out of me.

Bryce straightens his tie. “ButIam about to fix all of that.”

Well now I’m suspicious as hell. “How exactly?”

“I’ve arranged a match for you, little sister.”

I frown. “A match?”

“Yes. A husband.”

“A what now?” What the hell? My parents might have been rich once, and my mother comes from a long line of New York royalty, but we aren’t living in a Jane Austen novel here.

“I’ve secured you a husband. A billionaire no less.”

My god, he’s entirely serious. “I don’t want a husband.”

“Did you not hear me? He’s a billionaire, Melanie.”

“I don’t care if he’s the king of England, I’m not marrying him.”

He snarls. “You will do what is necessary to ensure this family’s future, you ungrateful little bitch.”

I open my mouth to reply, but no words come out. Instead, I blink at him in shock.

My mother turns to her housekeeper, who’s hovering in the doorway. “Margarite. Please leave us.”

Margarite dips her head like she’s addressing the Queen and ducks out of the room.

---