After finishing the project meeting with our clients, I went to the hotel to meet my fiancé, Asher. But I ended up at the wrong room. I called him, my heart pounding. He just laughed it off on the other end. "Fiona got the room number mixed up. Just go back to your own room." Fiona again. Asher's stepsister, who was only two years younger than him. I fell silent for a long time. Then, I turned around and looked at the handsome man lying on the bed, our business partner, Julian Sinclair. "I have an engagement party in two months, but I want to change the groom. Interested?" Julian smirked, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me close. "Let me see how sincere you are tonight first." Later, my childhood sweetheart practically lost his mind, banging on my door. "Didn't I tell you to get out of his room that night? You stayed?" "Yes. I stayed." When I realized I had walked into the wrong room, Julian Sinclair was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. A lazy, dangerous look flickered across his sharp face. "Are you trying to seduce me for a better discount, Miss Vance?" "No. Absolutely not." Flustered, I rushed to the door to leave. With a racing heart, I immediately called Asher. "Asher, why did I just walk into Julian Sinclair's room? Which room is yours?" Before he could speak, his stepsister, Fiona, piped up in the background. "Oh, Chloe! I'm so sorry, I totally mixed up the room numbers." Asher added casually, "Alright, Fiona didn't do it on purpose. Just get out of his room and go back." A sharp pain pierced my chest. It was the middle of the night, and he was so indifferent to me being in another man's room. Sensing my silence, he tried to coax me. "I'll take you shopping tomorrow to make it up to you. Don't make a scene, it's late. Fiona needs to sleep." "I think she did it on purpose!" I snapped. His voice went cold. "Enough, Chloe. Fiona is my sister. I never realized you were so petty and unreasonable." I hung up without another word. Then, I turned back and knocked on Julian's door again. The door slid open. Julian looked at me with amusement. He was still half-naked, and the towel around his waist had loosened even more. Fueled by anger and betrayal, I grabbed his hand. "Mr. Sinclair, can I stay in your room tonight?" He raised an eyebrow, leaning in close. His nose brushed against my cheek, inhaling my scent. It was too close. I instinctively tried to shrink back, but his arm wrapped lazily around my waist, pulling me tight against his chest. "I heard you're getting engaged in two months." At the mention of the engagement, my expression darkened. Yes. Asher and I were supposed to get engaged in two months. Yet, he had no problem letting his fiancée stay in another man's room in the dead of night. Our twenty years of history felt like a absolute joke. Taking a deep breath, I looked straight into Julian's deep eyes. "At the engagement party in two months, I want a different groom. Are you interested, Mr. Sinclair?" He let out a low chuckle, his hand reaching up to cradle the back of my neck. "Chloe, are you sure about this?" His long fingers gently stroked my skin, sending a wave of heat down my spine. I gritted my teeth. "Yes. I'm sure." The next day, after I returned from the hotel, Fiona showed up at my place. She blinked her innocent, doe-like eyes, twirling around to show off her new dress. "Chloe, Asher said you have the best taste in fashion. Do you think this dress looks good on me?"
It was a baby pink princess gown that made her look youthful and delicate. I ignored her, but she stepped closer anyway. "Actually, Asher even bought the matching lingerie for me. But it's a bit too private to show you. What a pity." Summer clothes are thin. What she meant was obvious. I thought I had completely detached myself after making my decision last night, but her words still stung. My mother died when I was very young. My father was always busy running the company, and besides giving me money, he knew nothing about raising a daughter. He certainly knew nothing about the changes a girl goes through during puberty. The first time I was mocked at school because I wasn't wearing a proper bra, it was Asher who fought the bullies for me. At eleven, he wasn't even as tall as me, but he fought like a wild dog. With a bloody nose, he had awkwardly shoved a soft sports bra and a hoodie from his backpack into my hands. "I... I've never bought this stuff before. Just put it on!" He sounded so angry, but his bright red ears gave away his embarrassment. That was the most sensitive time of my teenage years. Because he bought me that bra, Asher was teased by the other boys in our circle for a long time. Even now, people joked that he was born to be my husband. He used to say that he would only do such intimate things for his future wife. So, what about now? Did Fiona, his stepsister, also fall into the category of "future wife"? "If you only came here to tell me this, you can get the hell out." "Fiona, if she doesn't want to go, just leave her. Come here." It was Asher. The moment he walked in, Fiona's face instantly transformed into a picture of pitiful grievance. "Chloe, it's my 22nd birthday party. Are you really not coming? If I did something to upset you, I can apologize." She talked about apologizing, but her eyes welled up with tears first. Asher's heart melted. He stepped forward, shielding her behind his back. "Chloe, when are you going to stop throwing this tantrum? Fiona is my sister. Once we're married, she'll be your sister too! What you just said was way too harsh. Apologize to Fiona!" His face was cold. This face, which I had looked at for over twenty years, suddenly felt so foreign. When did he start protecting Fiona like this? I remember when Fiona and her mother first moved into the Miller estate, Asher hated her. He used to call her fake and dramatic. But gradually, under her sweet, manipulative voice, he began taking her side over and over again. Before Fiona arrived, Asher and I practically lived together. Both of our mothers passed away early, and our family villas were right next to each other. During my first period, on every single one of my birthdays, on the anniversary of my mother's death... Everyone knew that wherever Chloe Vance was, Asher Miller would be right there. Until Fiona showed up. Whenever he was with me, his phone would ring with Fiona's calls. She was scared of needles, so he missed my birthday to hold her hand at the hospital. She caught a cold, so he canceled our date and spent a whole month learning how to cook nutritious meals for her. Every time I questioned him or got jealous, I was defeated by a single line: "She's just my sister." But did she really just want to be his sister? I looked past his shoulder and locked eyes with Fiona. The triumph in her eyes was unmistakable. In this three-way dynamic, she had grown accustomed to his favoritism and the sense of superiority it gave her. Suddenly, I felt utterly exhausted. "I'm not apologizing." "Chloe, what is wrong with you!" He frowned, his voice laced with warning. "Fine. Don't regret this!" Regret? I was about to marry someone else. I really didn't have time for regret.
I didn't go to Fiona's birthday party, but Asher, of course, did. It was a grand event. A mutual friend FaceTimed me from the venue. "Chloe, why aren't you here today? Fiona is totally stealing the spotlight. I just heard some people joking about how good she and Asher look together." "But seriously, Asher is crossing the line. She's his stepsister, they have no blood relation. They should keep some distance. They're literally wearing matching outfits! If I didn't know better, I'd think they were the ones getting engaged!" A royal blue suit and a light blue princess gown. They did look perfect together. I stared numbly at the screen. Someone who had drank too much joked that today looked like their engagement party. Asher didn't get angry. Fiona, appearing slightly tipsy, snuggled into his chest, and he didn't pull away. "Asher, do you know what my birthday wish is today?" she asked, her cheeks flushed, looking adorable. Asher looked down at her with pure indulgence. "What is it?" "If I tell you, will you make it come true?" "Have I ever missed making one of your birthday wishes come true? Tell me, what do you want this time?" "Then... I want you to kiss me. Is that okay?" Fiona didn't whisper this. Even though my friend wasn't standing right next to them, the audio on the call was crystal clear. Asher's face stiffened for a second. In the next moment, he seemed to notice someone was filming him. His eyes locked onto my friend's phone camera. "Chloe, I know you're watching. If you call right now and apologize to Fiona, I won't do it." My friend looked incredibly awkward and whispered an apology to me. "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I didn't know he'd notice I was FaceTiming you." "It's fine. I'm actually busy. I have to go." "Wait! Chloe, what he just said..." I hung up and looked at the wedding dress in my hands. I didn't care who he kissed. It had nothing to do with me anymore. Because I wasn't going to marry him. Right after the FaceTime ended, Asher called me directly. "Chloe, how long are you going to keep acting like a child? What you said the other day was wrong. I only asked you to apologize to Fiona, and you..." "You honestly disgust me, Asher." "Ha, fine!" With that, he hung up, looked down, and kissed Fiona on the lips. My hands clenched around the delicate fabric of the wedding dress. Suddenly, a warm hand gently pried my fingers open. Julian took my phone, blocked Asher's number, and deleted him from my contacts list. "Fiancée, do you need me to handle this trash ex of yours?" "No need." He looked skeptical. "Are you really letting him go just because his stepsister mixed up a room number?" Was it really just because of that? I dazed for a moment. No. It was a buildup of so many things. He had hurt me for Fiona's sake more times than I could count. Asher and I once had a massive fight. We didn't speak for over two weeks. Eventually, he stood outside my door all night. The moment I opened the door, he wrapped his arms around me, his voice soft and broken. "Chloe, let's not fight anymore. I've been so miserable these past few weeks." I had been miserable too. Going from being inseparable to strangers was agonizing. So, when he offered an olive branch, I took it. For the next few days, he treated me like royalty, and it felt like we were back to the beginning. He even planned a surprise adventure trip for me. He took me to a firefly reserve on a secluded island with no cell service. We were completely cut off from the world, blissfully happy. Until the boat ride back, when he got a call from Fiona.
Fiona was crying on the other end, saying she was stranded and couldn't walk. Asher started sweating with panic, turning to me with an apologetic look. "Chloe, wait for me here. I'll be back soon." "No, Asher. I'm scared." "Be good. I promise I'll be right back. Something happened to Fiona." I begged him not to leave me alone on that deserted island. But the rescue boat hadn't arrived yet, so he actually jumped into the water and swam back to the mainland. He didn't return that day. I was stranded on that island for two whole days without food. My hypoglycemia kicked in, and combined with a severe panic attack, I collapsed on the beach. I almost died. And Fiona's "emergency"? She had merely stubbed her toe while shopping. During my days in the hospital, I was initially just hurt and angry, waiting for him to come and comfort me. But I never saw him until the day I was discharged. Later, I found out that Fiona had wanted to go on a trip, so he had flown out of the country with her during my entire hospitalization. I thought this time would be like our past fights, where we wouldn't speak for weeks. But to my surprise, Asher came to see me very quickly. He was holding a box of desserts from my favorite bakery, sighing with helpless indulgence. "Chloe, you still have such a temper. Who else but me would put up with you? Come on, unblock me on Snapchat." Oh, so he had finally realized I blocked him. "I didn't block you." "It's your account. Who else could it be? We're getting engaged soon, you really need to work on your temper if we're going to spend our lives together." He sounded so reasonable, as if he were looking out for me. But he forgot that my temper was something he had spoiled into existence. He used to tell me that as long as he was by my side, I could do whatever I wanted. "Did you come here today just to lecture me?" "Sigh, I was wrong about what happened the other night. I was just angry. Look, Chloe, I bought a designer bag. Take it and give it to Fiona. It was her birthday, after all. As her future sister-in-law, you should show some grace." If Fiona were really his biological sister, this gesture might have been sweet. Too bad she wasn't. I let out a mocking laugh. "Get on her good side so the three of us can share a bed? Are you planning on having one of us on each arm?" "Chloe! How can you say something so vulgar!" His face instantly darkened. I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Am I being vulgar, or are your actions just plain disgusting?" "Fiona is afraid of the dark!" "She's twenty-two! If she's afraid of the dark, she can leave the lights on, sleep with her mother, or hire 24-hour security! Why does she need to squeeze into the same bed as a man she has no blood relation to?" Just the thought of it made me physically sick. "And you bought her lingerie. If you haven't looked at her or touched her, how do you know her exact measurements?" "You... you are being absolutely ridiculous! I only see her as a sister!" He slammed the pastry box onto the floor with a loud splat. I bent down, picked up the box, and hurled it right back at his face. "Don't you dare throw a tantrum in my house! Get the hell out!" "Fine! I'm leaving! Don't expect me to crawl back to you before the engagement party!" He was threatening me. Because he knew, better than anyone, that I had no other choice but to marry him. Over the past few years, my father's illegitimate son had become increasingly arrogant. If it weren't for the alliance with the Miller family, my father probably wouldn't even leave my mother's company to me. That company was my mother's life's work. I couldn't let it fall into the hands of a mistress's child. So Asher knew I had to marry him. Maybe our fight during the day had exhausted me, because that night, I dreamed of the past. When I was nine, my father brought his secret love-child home. How ironic. That boy was only three years younger than me. While I was nearly losing my mind from grief over my mother's death, my father had already built a second family outside. What did I do back then? I was furious, devastated. I screamed and threw myself at the boy, only for my father to slap me hard, knocking me to the floor. "He is your brother! If you don't accept him, you don't eat today!" But I was stubborn. If he said no food, I wouldn't eat. I locked myself in my dark room, curling up on the bed. It wasn't until Asher broke my second-floor window and climbed in that he found me unconscious from severe hypoglycemia. My chronic hypoglycemia started from that day. The thin, young boy had cried hysterically as he dragged me out, his tears splashing onto my face as he begged me not to die. I was practically cried back to life by him. From that day on, Asher strictly monitored my meals. For a long time, he would even sneak into my room at night just to shake me awake, terrified that I would slip into a coma again. He was the one who dragged me out of that living hell. He had saved me. So, even when he ignored me for Fiona's sake time and time again, I always convinced myself: Once we get married, everything will go back to the way it was. But now I realized how wrong I was.
With only one month left until the scheduled engagement, my father unexpectedly returned and called for a joint family dinner. I didn't want to go. Since my groom was no longer Asher, there was no point in attending. But my father, for some reason, had already arranged everything. Our families still had ongoing business partnerships, and I couldn't afford to burn all bridges just yet. So, I showed up. Asher had arrived before me. The seat to his left was empty, while Fiona sat on his right. When he saw me walk in, he instinctively reached out to pull the chair next to him. But I ignored his gaze and sat on the opposite side of the table. The atmosphere turned instantly tense. My father, sensing the coldness between us, tried to pull me up from my seat. "Chloe, don't be silly. You two have known each other forever and are about to get married. What are you being shy for? Go sit next to Asher." "Chloe, are you refusing to sit here because of me? If so, I... I can leave. I'm not very hungry anyway." Fiona looked at me timidly, putting on a brave, mature front that made everyone pity her. Asher's face hardened instantly. "She can sit wherever she wants. This isn't a dinner for her alone!" "Indeed. I like it right here." I pulled my chair back and sat down firmly. Asher glared at me throughout the entire meal. The dinner felt completely tasteless. "Chloe, the engagement is next month. Have you picked out your dress?" my father asked. "Yes, I have." "When did you go see dresses?" Asher frowned. Choosing a wedding dress was a huge deal. In the past, I would have spent weeks dragging him along to look at designs. He had actually already selected several styles, waiting for me to lower my pride so he could take me to try them on one by one. But now, I had already chosen one? And he didn't even know? "Chloe, your dress needs to match my suit. When did you go behind my back to look at dresses?" "I didn't go behind your back. And I didn't go alone." "Then who did you go with?" My phone buzzed. It was a message from Julian. He had just showered, and his abs were barely concealed beneath a loose towel. I coughed slightly, my face flushing. "Having dinner with the ex-fiancé? Are you going to be hungry when you get back?" I quickly hid my phone under the table, my face burning as I replied. "Stop playing around." "Me, playing around? At least I'm not the one wasting my time with a loser." This guy was insufferable. Asher completely lost his patience. He abruptly stood up and walked over to my side. "Who are you texting that's making you smile like that?"
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