Chapter 1
My stepbrother fucking HATED me.
But I was obsessed with getting under his skin.
Because he always threw money at his problems.
He once threw twenty grand at me just to stop walking home together, two hundred thousand to get me out of his classes.
But every single time? I’d slither right back.
And seriously–who says no to cold hard cash?
After the SATs, he wired another massive sum into my account, voice dripping ice:
“Here’s five million. Go study abroad and never show your face in my house again.”
My eyes turned red as I looked down and whispered, “Okay.”
Hell YEAH.
He finally took the bait.
I walked in on Kieran Westfield almost kissing some scholarship girl.
In the dim private booth, he was slumped lazily in the corner of the couch, eyes closed, his sharp features blurred in the shadows.
The girl in the white dress stood beside him, hands braced on either side of his body, leaning down tentatively, getting closer and
closer.
Just then, I burst through the door and she jumped, whipping around to stare at me with those wide, wet eyes like a spooked deer.
“Ivy, I…”
I brushed past her and walked straight to Kieran.
“The driver’s here for me. Dad told me to bring you home too.”
He grabbed his jacket from beside him, threw it on, and followed me out.
Late at night, the hallway was pretty empty.
He casually shut the door behind us but didn’t leave, just leaned against it, standing there all lazy–like..
She was about to kiss me.”
I didn’t say anything.
His voice took on an edge of irritation.
“She’s really shy. It took her forever to work up the courage to do that.”
I unlocked my phone, showed him the time and Dad’s text, explaining quietly.
“Dad really did tell me to pick you up.”
He glanced at it and gave me a half–hearted “Oh.”
“I’m eighteen now, finished with the SATS and everything. He can’t control me anymore. Tattling on me won’t work.”
The wild, trippy lights shifted over, lighting up his flushed cheeks from all the booze.
I clenched my sleeves, my voice barely a whisper.
“But…”
He cut me off quickly.
“Just go home by yourself.”
“Also…”
His fingers tapped on his phone a few times.
“Here’s five million. Go study abroad and don’t show your face in my house again.”
“Let’s never see each other again.”
“Ivy, I really fucking hate you.”
He never wanted to see me again.
My eyes instantly turned red. I looked down, choking back a sob.
“Okay.”
Kieran turned and walked back into the booth, SLAMMING the door.
I checked the numbers on my banking app, then finally couldn’t hold it in anymore–crouched down, covered my mouth, and giggled like crazy.
Hell yeah.
He finally took the bait.
Kieran’s hated me for ages.
He thinks me and Mom are only after the Westfield money.
Well, he’s pretty damn smart
When I was fourteen, he put two geckos on my bed, trying to scare me into leaving his house.
I cried my eyes out.
Dad gave me more allowance to cheer me up.
Seeing the money? I perked right up.
When I was sixteen, Kieran and I got placed in the same high school.
He didn’t want to be in the same class as me, but he also didn’t want Dad beating his ass and then comforting me.
So he skipped all the other steps.
“Two hundred thousand.”
“Transfer out of this class.”
But he never said there was a time limit.
So senior year, I came back.
When I walked back into class with my backpack, Kieran’s face was BLACK.
The guy in front of him was grinning.
“Dude, your sister’s really persistent.”
Kieran said coldly: “She’s not my sister.”
Everyone shared these knowing looks and snickered.
Kieran looked at me, frowning.
“What the hell do I have to do to make you disappear from my sight?”
My eyes turned red: “Do you really hate me that much?”
He held up some fingers.
I bit my lip.
“Sorry, wrong classroom.”
I discovered a business opportunity.
Kieran’s loaded as hell.
When he played golf, I’d be his hype squad, holding his water and jacket.
He came to confront me about it.
Chapter 1
I looked up at him with starry eyes.
“Can’t I just admire my big brother?”
He transferred me money.
“If you’re bored, go shopping or something. Stop bugging me.”
Well, I had to take it, didn’t I?
I clung to Kieran for over a year.
Everyone knew he had this stepsister, even cracked jokes about how we’d end up together someday.
Eventually, Kieran got too lazy to explain and just kept throwing money at me to fuck off.
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But I wasn’t leaving my personal ATM.
On Kieran’s eighteenth birthday, he drank.
After he came home from the hotel, I held hangover soup in one hand and supported him with the other, hoping he’d be drunk enough to add an extra zero to his transfer.
He squinted down at me and suddenly sneered:
“Ivy, you’re really manipulative.”
My foot paused on the step.
Getting insulted costs extra.
He suddenly grabbed my waist, turned off the lights, and pinned me against the spiral staircase railing, kissing me.
Everything went dark in an instant, just his face getting bigger and bigger.
His breath hit me like a storm.
I shoved him away in shock, the bowl in my hands CRASHING to the floor and rolling down the stairs.
Dad called from upstairs: “Ivy, what happened?”
I steadied my trembling voice and whined like usual: “Kieran’s drunk and throwing a tantrum. He smashed my bowl.”
Kieran hung his head, leaning against the railing, silent in the darkness.
Dad sighed.
That’s just how he is when he’s drunk. Don’t worry about him, go rest. I’ll help him up.”
With that, I instantly escaped to my room.
AM, Kieran texted me:
Chapter 1
[Sorry.]
[Couldn’t see clearly, thought you were someone else.]
First time he ever apologized to me–yet it was an insult, with a money transfer attached.
But this time I didn’t accept it and didn’t reply either.
