Bully stepbrother

13. Offer

CADEN

Right after Mad disappeared into her bedroom, I shifted my attention to the redheaded domestic ass. He exuded a pathetic vigor as I boldly questioned him about his connection with my stepsister. "What's your deal with Mad?"

A forgery smile was plastered on his face, along with a fake sense of innocence that was all too apparent as he responded, "I thought I made it clear; we're dating."

Clearly, he had no clue who I really am. Anyone who knew me wouldn't dare to approach me that way.

I rested my fingers under my chin and casually observed him. "I guess I wasn't clear enough. You need to end whatever you call this 'dating' and keep your distance from my sister," I commanded, temporarily setting aside my usual cocky attitude to deliver a stern ultimatum.

He deliberately pulled up the corner of his upper lip, hesitating for a moment before muttering, "You can't seriously expect me to follow your orders."

Sure, you might have heard unfavorable things about me, and I won't deny them. I'm not proud of all aspects of myself, but my behavior is not something I'll apologize for. But let me clarify, I'm not overly controlling. Mad might argue, but I always offer options before taking action. Unfortunately, she tends to choose conflict over my straightforward approach.

Let's see if her male friend is as obstinate as she is.

So, I presented him with a simple way out - an act of peace, really. "You will, because nobody turns down fifty thousand dollars."

"What?" He gasped.

Just as I suspected.

I raised an eyebrow at him, implying my meaning. "I assume you have functioning ears. I don't repeat myself."

"You're offering that much money just to break up with your sister? You have no idea what this will do to her," he lectured, as if that wasn't the primary reason for my generous offer.

Call me devilish, but Mad hasn't exactly made things easy for me. She constantly backs me into a corner, invading every inch of personal space I manage to find. She sneaks into my room every other second and scrutinizes my every move. She's the epitome of clingy, like an awkward little stepsister would be. Can you really blame me for fighting back? Despite all that, she's somehow become the favorite child.

Ever since she entered my life, my dad has been smitten with her and distant from me. Nowadays, all we share are heated arguments, threats, and what some might call outright animosity.

"This is an offer. Take it or leave it. I have numerous ways to end your relationship. We can do this the easy way or the hard way," I assured, shooting him a sardonic smile from across the coffee table.

This should be interesting. Truth be told, this isn't the first time I've made deals like this when it comes to Mad. It's either cooperation or conflict. And I've never lost, thanks to my popularity and charm.

"I'll take it," he blurted out, uneasily adjusting his buttoned collar with his right hand.

Remarkably straightforward. I knew he wouldn't put up much resistance; I just didn't expect it to be this easy. Mad would never understand, but despite our complicated relationship, I always shield her from situations like this Chloe.

"That's what I thought," I lazily smirked, stepping back from the center of the living room. "I'll message you the details." I handed him my mobile phone, and he entered his number after taking it from me.

"Alright."

As I was about to fetch a bottle of water from the fridge, my obnoxious sister reappeared, this time wearing more clothes. "Well, looks like nobody's dead," she sarcastically quipped before making her way to the other side of the room.

I found solace in her modest attire, just as I had requested. Mad might be many things, but she's far from oblivious when it comes to her self-esteem. Over the years, she's made it easy for me to manipulate her by flaunting qualities that I know are complete fabrications, all so I can get to her.

Mad stands at five feet six inches tall. She's never bothered about her diet, but that doesn't hide the fact that she possesses a killer body, showcasing curves most others lack. Her baby blonde hair frames her cute, round face, accentuating her lovely lips, nose, and captivating ocean-blue eyes.

"Not yet," I responded.

She rolled her eyes, her attitude almost prompting a groan from me. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction, though. Even when she exchanged kisses with that idiot and left with the Cassandra in tow, I maintained my smirk and washed down the bitterness in my throat with excessive water.

But then an annoyingly high-pitched voice invaded my thoughts, and I finally allowed myself to groan. "Are we ready to go? Battle of the bands, remember? I need to dance!"

Of course, the stalker hadn't departed.

Swallowing my irritation, I desperately searched for an excuse to avoid spending more time with her; she was already repulsive enough. "What about my room?"

I couldn't fathom how this girl failed to grasp my disinterest. I had made it abundantly clear that I didn't want her around, yet she persisted, showing up to annoy me, even when I wasn't in the mood. She knew well that I never repeated the same thing twice; that's not my style.

"It's neat, smells as good as you do, my king!" She squealed like a shrimp - do shrimps even make noises?

Ignoring her, I hurried to my room, swung the closet door open, and hastily donned a T-shirt from the laundry pile. I slipped into a pair of clean blue pants.

I needed to escape this torment.