Betrayed by Blood, Saved by a Billionaire

The sun was hitting just right through the massive glass wall of our "sunroom" basically a fancy greenhouse attached to the house that Mom insisted made the place look "eco-chic." It was probably true, if you ignored the fact that the rest of our house was more like a high-tech fortress. I had my tablet open, stylus in hand, trying to sketch the insane view of the city skyline from up here on our hill. But, as usual, my mind wasn't on the art.

It was on Dylan. Dylan Hayes. My little sister Hailey’s fiancé.

Ugh. Just thinking his name made my stomach do this weird little flip. Not a good flip. More like a "this is so, so wrong" flip. I let out a quiet sigh. It wasn't like I was in love with him, not really. But he was… nice. To me. Which was a big deal.

I’m Skye. Skye Miller. And Hailey is my younger sister by two years, but honestly, she acts like she runs the world, or at least our family. Hailey is the definition of an influencer, even if she doesn’t officially have that job title yet. Perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect everything. She’s got this energy that just pulls people in. I’m… not that. I’m the quiet one, the artsy one, the one who’d rather be lost in a graphic novel or my own drawings than at some high-society party.

Most of the time, I’m cool with Hailey being the star. For real. But Dylan… that’s where things get messy in my head. He actually talks to me. Asks about my art, what I’m streaming, if I’ve played the latest update of that game we both like. He makes me feel, like, visible. Not just "Hailey's older, kinda awkward sister." And those little moments, those tiny bits of attention from him, had somehow made me notice him more than I should. More than was safe, especially with Hailey.

"Skye! Earth to Skye!"

Hailey’s voice, way too loud and cheerful, snapped me out of my thoughts. She breezed into the sunroom, looking like she’d just stepped off a fashion shoot. Her outfit was probably worth more than my entire student loan debt. Dylan was right behind her, looking a bit like a cute, slightly overwhelmed puppy being led on a diamond leash.

"Seriously, Skye, you spend way too much time hiding in here with your tablet," Hailey said, flipping her perfectly waved hair. "You're going to forget how to use your actual voice." She winked, but there was always that little dig in her tone.

Dylan shot me a quick, shy smile. "Hey, Skye. Hailey's just showing me the latest plans for the engagement party. It's gonna be insane."

"Yeah," I mumbled, my eyes flicking from Dylan’s friendly face to Hailey, who had already linked her arm through his, her grip tight. "Mom's probably got it all planned down to the last organic, gluten-free, ethically sourced canapé." Our mom, Nicole Miller, was obsessed with appearances, especially when it came to anything that could end up on the society pages or, worse, some gossip blog. Hailey was basically Mom 2.0.

"Duh, of course she does," Hailey said, giving Dylan's arm a little squeeze. "It's going to be the event of the year. Everyone who matters will be there." She turned to me, her blue eyes, way brighter than my more muted hazel, scanning me up and down. "You're coming, obviously, Skye. But, like, try to wear something that actually looks good on you? That new dress I got you, the blue one? Not that baggy black thing you always live in. You need to look like you actually belong to this family."

Ouch. Classic Hailey. A compliment wrapped in an insult, delivered with a dazzling smile. I felt my cheeks heat up, but I just nodded. "Sure, Hailey. Whatever you say."

Dylan shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I think Skye looks good in whatever she wears," he said quietly. It was meant to be nice, a small defense. I appreciated it, more than he knew. But I also knew it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull when it came to Hailey.

Her smile didn't change, but her eyes got that glint. That "don't you dare" glint. "Oh, I know she can look good, Dyl. She just needs a little… encouragement. Not everyone wakes up looking like a ten, you know?" She patted Dylan's arm, her gaze fixed on him, possessive and a little bit… desperate?

The air in the sunroom suddenly felt super charged. I wished I could just pixelate out of existence. I pretended to be super interested in an app notification on my tablet.

"Anyway," Dylan said, clearly trying to change the subject, "we should probably let Skye get back to her drawing. We’ve got that tasting with the caterer in, like, twenty." He gave me another small, apologetic-looking smile. "See ya at dinner, Skye."

"Later, sis!" Hailey chirped, already tugging Dylan towards the door, her voice instantly light and bubbly again as they left.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My stylus felt heavy. The city view suddenly looked boring. Hailey's words, even the "nice" ones, always had a way of making me feel like crap. Look like you belong. Needs encouragement.

I knew she didn't always mean to be that savage. Or maybe she did, and it was just so normal for her, she didn't even notice. Hailey needed to be the best, the brightest, the one everyone looked at. And if she thought anyone, especially me, was getting any attention that should be hers – particularly Dylan’s attention – she’d shut it down, fast. And lately, Dylan just being friendly to me was enough to set her off.

Later that night, after a dinner where Hailey had practically live-streamed her excitement about the party to Dylan, complete with constant arm-squeezing and flirty looks, I escaped to the rooftop terrace. Our building had this amazing green roof, like a secret park in the sky. The city lights twinkled below, and the air was cool. It was my thinking spot.

I was leaning against the railing, just staring out, when I heard footsteps. I tensed, half expecting Mom to track me down via my phone's GPS and tell me to come inside.

But it was Dylan.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper over the city hum. "Can't sleep?"

My heart did that stupid little flutter again. "Nah. Just… needed some air. Dinner was a lot."

He chuckled, a low, warm sound. "Hailey's definitely in full party-planning mode. It's a big deal for her." He came to stand beside me, looking out at the view. We were quiet for a minute, and it wasn’t awkward. It was… nice.

"She's lucky to have you," I heard myself say. The words just slipped out. And they were true. Hailey, for all her drama, really did seem to adore Dylan.

He turned his head, his profile sharp against the city lights. "I think I'm the lucky one." He sounded totally sincere. Then he added, looking right at me, "She's lucky to have you too, Skye. For a sister, I mean."

His eyes were kind, and for a second, I felt like he actually got me. Not in a romantic way, I knew that. But just… as a person. And that felt huge.

"Thanks, Dylan," I whispered, my voice a bit shaky.

Before I could overthink it, Hailey’s voice cut through the night, sharp and suspicious. "Dylan? Babe, are you up here?"

Dylan straightened. "Yeah, Hailey! Be right down!" he called. He gave me a quick, almost guilty-looking smile. "Night, Skye."

"Night," I replied, watching him head back towards the access door. Hailey was standing there now, a dark silhouette, her arms crossed. Even from a distance, I could feel the disapproval radiating off her.

I stayed on the rooftop for a long time after they’d gone. Dylan’s unexpected words had made me feel warm for a second, but Hailey's vibe had quickly killed it. I’d seen the look on her face, the way her whole body tensed up when she probably saw us talking. It wasn’t just her usual possessiveness. It was something else. Colder. Angrier.

A weird shiver went down my spine. I hugged myself. Suddenly, I had this really bad feeling. Hailey didn’t just want Dylan’s attention; she needed all of it. And me, just by existing, by Dylan being even a little bit nice to me, I was becoming a problem in her perfect world.

I had no idea then, standing under the vast, indifferent city sky, just how far my sister would actually go to keep her world perfect, to get rid of anything or anyone she thought was standing in her way. Her jealousy wasn't just some vague sibling rivalry. It was sharp, it was focused, and it was aimed right at me. And it was about to explode.