The Consortium Heir: My Stepsisters are obsessed with me

Chapter 6: The First Taste of Wealth

Before Anthony could fully process what was happening, he was standing in front of one of the most luxurious malls in the city, Sky Mall.

 “This is the best mall in the city." Sonia said brightly.

Anthony forced a smile. "Of course it is."

Because he knew this place, the way soldiers knew battlefields.

This was where he'd once spent a ridiculous amount of his hard-earned money chasing the perfect gifts for Linda, an expensive watch here, a designer bag there, every small thing he thought might make her happy.

He remembered walking these same halls with shopping bags, picturing her smile before he'd even handed anything over.

But here he was again. Only this time, he wasn't the one doing the buying. Somebody was bringing him here to spend money on him.

The feeling was weird. And weirder than the feeling was the way she was attached to his body.

Sonia had wrapped herself around his arm completely with both hands, and shoulder pressed to his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Anthony glanced down at her. From this angle, he could see down the front of her dress, the heavy swell of her cleavage rising with each breath.

And when she leaned in a fraction, the soft weight of her breast brushed against his arm through the silk, in a way that made his brain quietly recite the alphabet backwards.

She's your stepsister, he reminded himself. Possibly. Probably. The word "stepsister" was doing nothing against the fact that her nipples were hard under that silk and he could see them.

Sonia looked up. "Are you okay?"

He looked back at her. "Huh?"

"You've been making strange faces for the last thirty seconds."

"Have I?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Already overwhelmed by your new life?"

He laughed, a little awkwardly. "You have no idea."

Her smile widened. "Come on," she said, tugging him forward. "Let's go in."

The first stop was a luxury men's boutique. The moment they stepped in, Anthony noticed the quiet, the polish, the price tags that seemed to hum with expense.

 A female attendant glanced up from the counter, her eyes sweeping over Anthony’s wet clothes, the cheap shoes, the exhaustion on his face. And her face said everything HR would have disciplined her for saying out loud. Trash has wandered in.

Anthony noticed. Of course he did — he'd seen that look plenty of times before, the one people gave when they'd already decided where you belonged.

Then her eyes moved to Sonia, and her whole attitude flipped. "Welcome in!" a smile snapping into place.

"We're here to get clothes for him," Sonia said.

The attendant's smile stayed, barely, as she glanced at Anthony again. "Of course."

He let it slide off him; he was too tired to care. Sonia, meanwhile, moved through the store with total confidence, pulling one piece after another.

"Try this." A shirt appeared in her hands. Then a blazer. Then another shirt in a color Anthony had never once considered existing.

"Sonia, I really don't think—"

"Try this one." "Hmm. Too plain. Try this." "Oh, this one. Go on." "Turn around. Let me see."

Within minutes Sonia had turned the shopping trip into something Anthony didn't quite know how to process.

She dressed him off the racks like a paper doll, holding pieces up against his chest, her fingers brushing his shoulders and collar far more often than needed.

Once, she adjusted the collar of a shirt against his throat, standing close enough that he could smell her perfume, something warm and expensive, and she looked up at him through her lashes.

"Hmm," she hummed. "You wear trouble very well."

"I— sorry, what?"

"The shirt." She patted his chest, her hand lingering just a second too long, fingers grazing the fabric over his pecs. "It suits you."

Is she flirting with me? Anthony thought, honestly panicking. That was flirting, right? Or am I just broken from today and imagining it?

"Try this on." She held up a fitted shirt, her eyes dropping to his mouth for a split second before snapping back up. "I want to see how it looks on you."

Anthony went to the changing room and stripped down. The shirt was tight, hugging his chest and abs in ways he hadn't expected.

When he stepped out, Sonia was waiting with her arms crossed, her eyes traveling down his body slowly, deliberately, like she was memorizing every inch.

"Perfect," she said softly. She stepped forward, her fingers tracing the line of his collarbone, then down to the center of his chest.

Anthony swallowed hard. "I— thanks."

She smiled, a slow, wicked thing, and leaned in until her lips were inches from his ear. "We are just getting started."