Page 1 of Forever Fake

CHAPTER 1

Blake

“Isee you redecorated.” Yve, my widowed step-mother, purses her collagen-stuffed lips while surveying the brownstone’s renovated entryway. “Marble, stained wood, and antiques. How predictable. I don’t know what I ever saw in this place, the penthouse is so much more modern. Its view of Central Park is stellar. Pity there’s no decent view here. I still can’t believe how much you paid for this old house.”

Of course she’d rub that in. She held onto my ancestral home for years, refusing to sell it to me until I offered a price so astronomical that she simply couldn’t pass it up. That back and forth was one of many games we’ve played since my father died three years ago and Yve gained control of everything, from the Baron family estate to our real estate investment empire.

As the eldest son, I should have inherited it all, but Father cut me out of his will a long time ago. Instead, handing over his massive fortune to this gold-digging bitch.

Gold-diggers are the worst kind of predators in my world. They seem to be everywhere.

I school my features in a bored expression and drawl, “If your urgent need to stop by was to comment on my home’s features, you may leave now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She sneers, walking toward my office on the main floor like she still owns the place.

I stroll after her, refusing to let her get under my skin. Instead, I make her wait when she enters my office before I do, and takes one of two chairs in front of the desk. Unhurriedly, I round the sizable piece of wooden furniture and sink into the smooth leather chair.

Yve glares. Given the amount of Botox she’s had in the last few years, her eyes are the only part of her face that naturally move.

I steeple my fingers, elbows on my desk, and return her stare. Another game. We’ve been playing one game after another for decades. We face each other like that for a solid thirty seconds before she finally breaks the strained silence.

“Lexa is now twenty-one, which means it’s high time she found a husband. You are?—”

“Not interested. For themillionthtime, I’m not marrying my sister.” The very idea makes my skin crawl, even though she’s technically my step-sister. Not that there’s anything wrong with the girl, except for the fact that I do see her as my babysister.That we don’t share blood is irrelevant.

Besides, whoever marries mysisterwill be under this monster’s thumb, and that sorry fellow is not going to be me—anymore than Ialreadyam Yve’s unwilling puppet.

Yve has been hounding me about this since the girl turned eighteen. For Christ’s sake, give it a rest.

I find the very idea of being romantically involved with my step-sister repulsive on so many levels. She’s a decade and half younger than me, and she shares blood with this viper who’s seated in my office. The only reason Yve wants to pawn herdaughter off on me is to make sure all the Baron family assets stay under her control. And to acquire the fortune I’ve made for myself over the years.

Just one big happy family. Forever.

Over my dead fucking body.

Though in all honesty, I’m surprised she hasn’t moved on to arranging a marriage between Lexa and my younger brother Liam. They are closer in age. Also step-siblings. The fact that he’s gay is not nearly enough of a reason for Yve to dismiss the idea of them together. In fact, it wouldn’t deter her in the slightest. She’s that sort of monster.

Either way, it’s never going to happen. I’d welcome an arranged marriage to a stranger before I’d agree to marry Lexa.

Yve purses her puffy mauve lips. “You remember that you can’t claim your little inheritance until you marry, right?”

Another of Yve’s games. When I went away to boarding school as a teenager, she stole some things from my room–invaluable things. Over the years I’ve looked for them but keep coming up empty-handed. One day I’ll get them all back.

“I’m well aware of your terms.” Already bored of this conversation, I casually lean back in my chair.

“Well then, marry my daughter and you’ll get what you want. One year of marriage is all I ask for you to claim what you want.”

“Never.” I let my boredom slip through in my tone. “I’d rather eat rusty nails.”

A sinister smile touches her mouth. “If you’re going to be so stubborn about it, I have no choice but to force the issue. If you want your inheritance, then you’ll have to marry by your thirty-fifth birthday. The day after that, if you’re not wed, I’ll burn it all.”

I’m about to protest, telling her she can’t add this term on top of the other ridiculous stipulations regarding what she stole from me. Calling itmy inheritance, doesn’t alter the facts.

But she can change the terms, she can do whatever the hell she wants because my father gave her full control and the estate’s lawyers always jump at whatever she wants to amend. Those bastards are entirely too accommodating.

Since my father’s death, Yve has become unhinged. She’s stepped into the CEO position at the company, she holds my little brother’s inheritance over both his head and mine. How she convinced Father to give her carte blanche is still unknown to me. Though my father was a real bastard, his weakness was Yve, so I shouldn’t really be surprised by his last will and testament leaving her in charge of the Baron family estate and business.

I simply have to deal with the consequences–for now.

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