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Bought by the Billionaire Brothers 5

By:Alexx Andria

Bought By The Billionaire Brothers 5:

The Sting of Betrayal

By Alexx Andria

Dillon sat in the dark nursing his celebratory scotch long after his  brothers had hustled Penny off in their awaiting Towncar to speed away  as if he were the devil. He'd accomplished his goal by planting a seed  of destruction in their little world and he'd used Penny to deliver the  poison. Hell, maybe he was the devil after all.

His plan had worked nearly to perfection. He could be fairly certain his  brothers were twisting their guts in a knot knowing he'd been inside  their pretty, gullible pet, and while that gave him a certain amount of  pleasure, he couldn't entirely revel in the victory knowing how deeply  he'd cut Penny.

Why did he care? Penny was a tool - a means to an end.

He could tell himself that all night but he doubted it would assuage the  creeping guilt beginning to tighten his chest like mistletoe choking  out its host. Dillon rose and refilled his glass, staring into the amber  liquid as if the answer to his dilemma were in the smooth depths.

This was for Isabel, he reminded himself with no small amount of  irritation at himself for wallowing in useless self-reproach. And  possibly, his unborn child. Who knew if Isabel had been carrying his  child or his brothers? But just knowing the possibility existed made it  imperative that his brothers pay for their sins.

Your hands are not clean, either. You're far from innocent.

His brother's voice cut at Dillon and he winced as a different memory bloomed in his mind.

"Fuck them. I'm not going to play their stupid games. No one is going to  tell me how to live my life," Dillon had shouted, still hot as hell at  his father for trying to push him into a life he didn't want. Isabel,  her fair hair falling like silk across her shoulders, tucked the tresses  behind her ear, distress marring her fair features but Dillon was too  pissed to care how anyone else felt at the moment. All he knew was that  his dick of a father was trying to force him to be something he wasn't.  "I don't need their fucking money. I'll live on the streets before I  take another dime."

"Dillon, you're angry. Calm down before you make a decision that will  affect the rest of your life. You've never been poor; you don't know the  first thing about being on your own. Maybe it's not a bad thing your  dad is asking - you need a career of some sort, right?"

Dillon looked at Isabel, freshly irritated that she wasn't immediately  taking his side. Where's the fucking unconditional love? "Whose side are  you on?"

"Yours," she said quickly. "But … what will you do for money if you're cast out of the family?"

He cast her a dark look. "I'm not totally helpless. I don't need their  money. I'd rather sleep in my car than accept another dime from my  father."

"Didn't your father buy your car?" Isabel asked tentatively. When Dillon  shot her a dark scowl, she continued in a rush. "Baby, listen to me.  You're being rash. You've grown up accustomed to living in the lap of  luxury; you don't know how to be on your own. Everything you own belongs  to your family. Please don't make a decision you can't take back. You  don't know what it's like to be alone." She tried to reach out to Dillon  but he cut her down with a cold stare. "Please Dillon … I'm on your side.  I love you."

"You have a funny way of showing it by telling me to suck up to my  father for the scraps from his table. I never realized how useless you  think I am," he said caustically.

"I don't think that at all! But you don't know what you're doing. The  world isn't going to fall at your feet just because you're a Buchanan  unless you have the Buchanan cash to persuade them and your dad is just  giving you a chance to make your mark. Why is that so bad?"

"That just goes to show how much you don't know about the Buchanans. My  father isn't interested in helping shape my future; he just wants to  control me. If I give in to his demands, it will never end!"

Tears glistened in Isabel's eyes and he knew she hadn't heard a word  he'd said. All she could see was the gravy train coming to a grinding  halt if he got tossed on his ear. Suddenly, instead of seeing the woman  he was in love with standing before him, all he saw was a gold-digger  and his rage crested the wall of control. "Unbelievable," he muttered,  shaking his head. Isabel's crestfallen expression pushed his anger  sidewise and he lashed out at her, saying, "Go on, get the fuck out of  here if you're so inclined to agree with my family. Chase after the  money, Isabel."         



"Dillon, wait!" She tried to stop him but he flung her hand from his arm  with a snarl, too angry to care that he was being reckless and cruel to  the one person he loved. He had to get away from the hypocrisy, the  lies and most of all from his disillusionment that Isabel hadn't cared  about his money. She was just as petty and shallow as the rest. Fuck  her. She cried, "Dillon!"

But he hadn't stopped. No, in fact, he'd made the biggest mistake of his  life - one that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Dillon squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to push the memory farther  from his consciousness but Isabel's stricken expression haunted him. Had  she known she was pregnant already when he'd kicked her to the curb  along with everyone else in his life? Had she felt scared and alone with  no one to turn to? He'd been a bastard but his brothers had taken it to  the next level; they'd swooped in on a vulnerable girl during a  desperate moment and taken full advantage.

He drained the scotch. Hating himself for a myriad of reasons - for  being a cold, heartless bastard, for not knowing when to quit, for  destroying every single good thing in his life - but mostly, God bless  it, because his brain kept replaying Penny's shattered expression at his  betrayal. Why did he care so much? Why did it feel as if hot needles  had just been shoved into his heart? Forget it … he didn't want to know  the answer.

The oppressive silence in the cab of the Towncar made Penny want to jump  from the moving vehicle if only to escape the judgment in Vince and  Nolan's hurt and angry gaze.

"Why?" Vince was the first to break the silence with a terse demand.  "Why did you do it?" Penny didn't have time to answer. Vince's anger had  begun to boil over in a torrent of words that made her flinch and cause  tears to spring to her eyes. How could she explain something she didn't  understand herself? She was mortified and humiliated by her own  gullibility - and yet, there was a piece of her that desperately refused  to believe that everything she and Dillon had shared had been a farce.  "He's a liar and a soulless dick," Vince shouted, pushing his hand  through his hair, agitated. Penny winced and wiped at her eyes, ashamed  that she still wanted to talk to Dillon, to see for herself if he'd  truly done this despicable thing to simply hurt his brothers. "We warned  you. Why didn't you fucking listen? What is it about Dillon that makes  women lose their minds?"

Penny wisely remained silent and simply cried in the darkness. If either  could tell she was crying, neither was inclined to comfort her, not  that she expected them to. She'd screwed up. "I'm … " she didn't know what  to say. Her throat closed as she struggled to find the words that would  convey how she'd felt - how he'd made her feel. God, for a blinding -  and glorious - moment she'd thought she was falling madly, deeply and  inexorably in love with the bad boy. Now, she just felt sick to her  stomach for being so naïve as to think that she would be the one to tame  the wildest Buchanan. Chubby Penny. The one who never got asked to  school dances or admired for anything other than her brains. Sure. That  made total sense. She wiped at her dripping nose and for lack of a  tissue, had to wipe her hand on her pants. What a colossal mess she was  in. Oh, Papa, I never should've taken the deal. What am I going to do  with myself now?

It seemed an eternity before the brothers dropped her unceremoniously  off at the apartment without so much as a terse goodnight and as she  finally climbed into bed, each sore muscle reminding her of the  scorching sex she and Dillon had had mere hours ago, she shuddered under  the blunt force trauma of a bleeding heart. She felt broken - shattered  into a million pieces and left to die - and there was nothing left but  to weep into her pillow like the sorry loser that she was. Dillon didn't  want her and she didn't know where she stood with Vince or Nolan. Good  gravy, they could barely look at her but it hadn't mattered; she'd seen  disgust in their eyes. Would they ask her to pack her things? Clearly,  she was in breach of contract - she quaked at the ramifications - but  why'd they bring her back to the apartment if they were planning to kick  her to the curb? But did she want to remain their girl? How could she?  Regardless of how Dillon felt, she knew she'd given her heart to him and  she didn't know how to function as if nothing had happened. She closed  her eyes and moisture seeped from the corners to wet her pillow as she  hugged it tight, breaking inside from the pain and heartache.