My Stepbrother Wants Me-Chapter 147: Lucy Is Mentally Deranged

Julian’s POV

I paced the length of my bedroom, my heart rate refusing to settle. Every time I reached the window, I looked down at the driveway, even though I knew she was already gone. What was she doing right now? Sitting across from him, laughing at his jokes, and maybe letting him touch her hand or kiss her again again? The thought was a physical weight in my chest, a pressure that made it hard to breathe.

I had tried to be the "good son." I had followed Richard’s script. I had stood on that stage, kissed Lucy, and protected the Vaughn name just like he demanded. And what had it gotten me? I was sitting in a gilded prison while my woman was seeking comfort in the arms of a man who looked like he’d never followed a rule in his life. By playing Richard’s game, I had become the villain in her story.

If I had to do this—if I had to pretend to be part of this sick arrangement with Lucy—I was done being the polite, cooperative heir. If Richard wanted me to be with Lucy, fine. But I was going to make sure every second she spent in my presence was a living hell.

A sharp knock at the door broke my train of thought.

"Who is it?" I snapped.

"It’s Lucy," her voice filtered through the wood, sounding entirely too cheerful. "Can we talk?"

I stood in the center of the room, my jaw tight. Speak of the devil they say.

I wanted to tell her to go to hell, but I knew she wouldn’t leave until she got what she wanted. "Come in," I growled.

The door opened, and Lucy stepped inside, looking around my room with an air of ownership that made my skin crawl. She leaned against the doorframe, a small, nasty smirk playing on her lips.

"Did you see Catherine’s face when she was leaving?" she started, her voice laced with mock sympathy. "Of course you did. She looked very excited. I have to say, she and that guy really do make a cute couple. He has that rugged, dangerous look that girls like Catherine usually fall for when they’re trying to rebel. I bet they’re having a wonderful time."

She was trying to twist the knife in my chest. She was intentionally trying to hurt me, she wanted to see me react to the image of Catherine with another man. I turned to face her, my expression dead and cold.

"Stop talking," I said. My voice was low, devoid of any emotion.

Lucy blinked, her smirk faltering slightly. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Stop talking," I stepped toward her, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. "You have the most annoying voice I have ever heard in my life. Every time you open your mouth, it sounds like nails on a chalkboard."

"Julian, there’s no need to be rude—"

"I’m not being rude; I’m being honest," I cut her off, my eyes raking over her with blatant disgust. "You should be incredibly grateful you have that ginger hair, Lucy. It’s the only feature you have that isn’t completely repulsive. Otherwise, you’re just an ugly girl with a skinny, bird-like neck and a personality that makes people want to walk into traffic."

Lucy’s mouth dropped open. The shock was clear on her face, but I wasn’t finished.

"You are a means to an end," I said, leaning in until I was in her personal space. "You are a tool my father is using to fix a mess. That is all you are. You are not my girlfriend, you are not my friend, and you are nothing to this family. And if you ever utter Catherine’s name in my presence again, I will make sure you regret it. Do you understand me?"

I expected her to cry. I expected her to run to Richard. I expected some semblance of a normal human reaction to being insulted so brutally.

Instead, the psychopath began to laugh.

It started as a giggle and grew into a full, manic cackle that rang off the walls of my room. She pushed off the doorframe and moved closer to me, her eyes wide and glittering with a disturbing kind of light. She didn’t look hurt; she looked energized.

"Oh, Julian," she said, shaking her head. "You’re so dramatic. It’s normal that you hate me right now. It’s actually quite perfect. Don’t you see? This is the classic ’enemies to lovers’ setup. You’re angry and frustrated, and you’re taking it out on me because I’m the only one who can handle you."

I stared at her, genuinely worried about her mental state. Now I understood why she was in a rehabilitation facility. "You’re delusional."

"I’m a realist," she countered. She moved even closer, her eyes fixed on mine. "The more time we spend together—and we will be spending all our time together—the more you’re going to realize that we’re the same. You’ll start to fall for me. It’s inevitable. We’ll get through this little phase, we’ll get married, and we’ll have the cutest babies. Richard will be so proud."

"Get out of my room," I said, the disgust in my voice thick.

"Is that a challenge?" She smiled, a slow, predatory expression. She reached out, her hand sliding up my arm, her fingers grazing my chest in a clumsy attempt at seduction. "I know you’re lonely, Julian. Why fight it? We could be having fun right now instead of arguing."

The touch felt like a burn. I reacted before I could even process the movement. I grabbed her by the elbow with a very tight grip, the type that could leave bruises.

"I told you to get out," I hissed.

"Julian, you’re hurting me," she pouted. "But I don’t mind though. I do in fact love BDSM," there was a sick thrill in her eyes that truly showed she didn’t mind the rough treatment.

Ewww. This lady is abnormal. How could I have ever made her my friend?! Catherine had warned me but I didn’t listen.

Without saying a word more to her, I dragged her toward the door. She tried to plant her feet, but I was stronger. I hauled her out into the hallway, ignoring her protests. Once we were past the threshold, I released her arm with a sharp shove that sent her stumbling toward the opposite wall.

"Stay away from me," I told her.

I didn’t wait for her to respond. I grabbed the handle and slammed the door shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot. I leaned my forehead against the wood, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I was surrounded by lunatics, trapped by my father, and losing the only person who had ever made me feel like I was more than just a Vaughn.

I sank to the floor, my back against the door, and buried my head in my hands.