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Ravaged By My Cold-Hearted Stepbrothers  Novel Cover

Ravaged By My Cold-Hearted Stepbrothers

Cat’s transition into a luxury mansion turns into a nightmare when she encounters her new stepbrothers, Jackson and Brandon. The dangerous duo traps her within her own room, forcing her to confront a physical attraction that masks their deep-seated hatred. Cat eventually learns the devastating truth: she is merely a thousand-dollar bet designed to humiliate her and drive her mother back to poverty. Despite their cruel mockery, she discovers a fatal vulnerability she can exploit.
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Chapter 1

“Spread your legs, Cat.” His voice was cold, and left no room for argument.

“Why?”

“Because we’re going to fuck you until you’re crying and begging us to stop—and we won’t stop until we’re thoroughly satisfied.

***

One house. Two monsters. And a bet that changed everything.

I thought I could survive moving into the mansion with my new stepbrothers, Jackson and Brandon. They are breathtakingly gorgeous, dangerous, and they hate me. But I didn't realize how much I hated them back—until they trapped me in my own bedroom and made my body betray every secret I was keeping.

I thought the heat between us was real. I thought the way they looked at me meant I was finally seen.

I was wrong.

I was just a thousand-dollar wager. A game they played to ruin my mother & kick us back to the gutter where they think we belong. They called me "easy." They called me "mid." They laughed about how I leaked for them while they planned to toss me aside.

But they made one fatal mistake: they showed me their weakness.

: Predators

Rhea

“Those ass thick as fuck.”

I spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs, to find Jackson and Brandon looming in my doorway. Jackson leaned his weight against the door frame with a predator’s grace, while Brandon held the door wide open, one hand shoved deep into his denim pocket. Their eyes were raking fire over every inch of my bare skin.

“And your snatch is so full. Damn. I want a taste,” Brandon added, a small, dangerous smile curving the corners of his mouth.

I wondered how long they’ve been standing there and how much of my naked form they’ve seen.

Heat flared under my skin, and it wasn't just embarrassment. I was completely naked, caught in the middle of a frantic search through my wardrobe for a family dinner dress that I didn’t want to be in.

“Have you both lost your damn minds?” I snapped. I lunged for the towel on my bed, whipping it around my chest and tucking it tight. “What the fuck is wrong with you two? I’ve told you a thousand times, knock before coming into my room!”

Jackson chuckled, a dark, low rumble that seemed to vibrate in the air between us. He pushed off the door frame and stalked toward me. “Your door was wide open, Cat. Seems to me like you wanted us to see.”

I let out a bitter, jagged laugh. “In your dreams. What do you want?”

Jackson didn't stop until he’d swallowed the space between us. He towered over me, a breathtaking giant making me feel like a cornered mouse. It was infuriating how gorgeous he was, the sharp jawline, the scent of expensive sandalwood and trouble. It was enough to make my brain cells short-circuit and my hatred for this house, and the two of them, momentarily dissolve into a haze of treacherous longing.

He looked down at me with an arrogant smirk, his green eyes locking onto mine with hypnotic intensity. “Your mother wants you downstairs. We wouldn't be here if you’d bothered to pick up your phone,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a private silk thread.

The Jackson and Brandon I knew would never come to my room if my mother sent them. They hated her. In their eyes, she was the gold-digger who’d married their father for his millions, a threat to their inheritance. As for me, I was just the collateral damage. They never liked me either; I was part of the problem just by existing in their father's house.

“You and I both know that’s not why you’re here,” I said, my breath hitching as he leaned closer.

“Then why don’t you tell me why I’m here, Cat?”

I hated that name. I fucking hated it. Every time they said it, my chest tightened. It made me feel small. Exposed. Like they’d already decided I was a pet, someone they could corner, toy with, and break if the whim struck them.

Jackson’s lips hovered so close to mine that I could almost taste the mint on his breath. His gaze dropped to my mouth for a split second, and he swallowed hard, his throat working as if he were fighting every instinct to claim me right there against the wardrobe.

“Your room's a mess,” Brandon's voice cut in, shattering the trance. I hadn't even noticed how near he was until then. He was behind me now, his presence a cold shadow. “Didn’t peg you for the disorganized type. Or are you just that desperate to find something that makes you look like a saint?”

“Quit talking nonsense,” I snapped, stepping back from Jackson’s suffocating heat, only to collide with Brandon's solid chest.

Now they had me trapped between them, their bodies caging me in like iron bars. Heat radiated from their skin, igniting my nerves until they screamed. My core throbbed insistently, a treacherous rush of wetness slicking my folds and trickling down my inner thighs.

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