The step brother I swore to hate.

CHAPTER ONE

“Sapphire! What are you still doing here?!”

The door flew open, and I didn’t bother turning around. I already knew who it was.

I straightened my pale blue dress for the fifth time and stared at my reflection, ignoring my grandma’s sharp footsteps as she stormed toward me.

I glanced at the clock on the wall — it was 10 a.m. “We’re still on time,” I replied calmly, which only infuriated her more.

“The wedding should have started thirty minutes ago!!” She huffed, talking with her hands like she always did.

I tightened my fingers around the small velvet box in my hand. “So? The wedding will go just fine without me.”

Her wrinkled face reddened at this point. “You’re holding the rings!” she snapped. “Your mother refuses to walk down the aisle until you’re there. How can you be so selfish on such an incredible day in her life?”

I almost laughed. Incredible day, my ass. “Didn’t you say the man is rich enough to buy half of New York? I’m sure he can afford to buy spare rings.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as her gaze finally swept over me, slowly and critically.

Her frown deepened. “What is this?” she asked sharply, gesturing at my dress.

“A dress,” I replied flatly.

She kissed her teeth. “That’s what you chose to wear?”

I stiffened. “What’s wrong with it?”

She eyed me. “It clings too much. Look at you, everything is on display!”

My stomach twisted.

“It’s inappropriate,” she continued. “You know you’re not shaped like your mother, you should wear something looser.”

I clenched my jaw. “But it fits me.”

“Exactly,” she snapped. “That’s the problem.”

I turned to face the mirror, and suddenly I saw what she saw. The dress fit me too much, showing every roll and excess skin. I began to see through the dress, everything I tried so hard to hide underneath.

“Go change,” she ordered. “Wear a shawl, or a jacket, anything to cover up all this… fat.”

My eyes began to water, but I held it in. If I cried in front of her, it would just make things worse.

“I’m not changing,” I said quietly, gripping the hem of my dress.

Immediately, she gripped my arm and pulled me closer. I hissed at the pain.

“I will not let you ruin this day for my daughter,” she hissed before shoving me away like I disgusted her. “And spray some perfume. You reek of alcohol.”

I stumbled back, my hands trembling slightly. I didn’t think anyone would smell the alcohol on me… and it just had to be her.

“You are just like your father.”

As she said those words, my nails dug into my palms, my heart ached.

The words landed exactly where they always did, and it hurt exactly how they always did.

“I won’t let you hold her back the way he did,” she continued coldly. “Get down in five minutes, or you won’t like what I do.”

She warned and then left the room, leaving the door open — along with a wound that never seemed to close.

The limousine parked outside our porch just didn’t sit right with me.

“Is this really necessary?” I asked once I climbed in.

“Of course there is!! My daughter is getting married to the richest man in New York! She deserves nothing less.” She gloated with an air of pride surrounding her.

“Even if she went in a limousine, why do we have to?”

She looked at me like I had just asked the most ridiculous thing ever.

“You want to arrive at the most talked about wedding of the year in that rusty truck?!”

“Well that rusty truck was what drove you to your church gatherings every week… now it’s not good enough for you?”

She rose her chin and waved me off.

“I’m not going to let you sour my mood today. Today is a glorious day! Hallelujah!”

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. We had left our small neighborhood and now we were approaching a side of New York I had only seen in magazines.

There were no rusty trucks on the asphalt road, only luxurious cars — the types my grandma drooled over.

She watched my reflection in the glass.

“At least you covered yourself,” she muttered. “We can’t have you going there and embarrassing my daughter in front of the elites.”

I dug my nails into my lap but offered no response.

Because a part of me believed her.

When the iron gates opened, her smile widened.

“We’re here!”

The mansion was massive. Nothing about it felt like home.

She shoved me out of the car.

“Hurry now! Give them the rings!”

This was it.

I swallowed as I walked quickly to the makeshift altar framed by flower garlands, ignoring the stares of the guests.

I wanted to get this over with as quick as possible and then leave.

Her eyes met mine, filled with gratitude. Because she knew how badly I didn’t want to be here.

And as she said her vows to Jonathan, I remembered why.

Because every word she said was exactly the same she had promised my dad.

After I handed them the rings, everything went by in a blur.

Everyone was celebrating, jubilating. But I didn’t care — I just wanted a drink.

I slipped into the mansion, the noise fading behind me, and wandered until I found the kitchen.

“Now where are you hiding…” I murmured to myself, rummaging through the cupboards.

“What are you doing here?”

The low voice made me pause.

I turned to face the intruder and almost shivered beneath his gaze. His blonde hair did nothing to brighten his dark, cold eyes and his hard jaw made him look even more frigid.

“Just looking for a drink,” I responded, acting unfazed.

“So you plan on stealing.” He wasn’t asking.

“I wouldn’t call it stealing,” I replied coolly, keeping my nerves at bay.

He leaned on the counter, his toned arms folded across his chest.

“You barged into someone’s house, ‘looking’ for a drink — and that’s not stealing?”

Now he was beginning to irritate me.

“What’s your deal anyways??”

“If you want to be an alcoholic,” he said coolly, “go to the streets and be uncultured. Not here.”

“What did you just say to me??” I couldn’t believe what I just heard.

He regarded me with a raised brow.

“Did you suddenly become deaf?”

I dug my nails into my palm as I approached him.

“You have no right to speak to me that way!”

He scoffed, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he towered over me effortlessly.

“So not only are you partially deaf, you’re also very stupid.”

Now I had enough!

I approached him, my blood fuming.

“You fucking ba—”

“Sapphire!”My mother rushed in, Jonathan close behind her.

“Oh,” Jonathan said cheerfully. “I see you’ve met Lucian.”

Lucian.

My stomach dropped.

“Remember I told you Jonathan had a son?” my mother said gently.

Jonathan smiled.

“Lucian, this is Sapphire. Your stepsister.”

The word hit like a slap.

Lucian’s gaze sharpened.

“Stepsister,” he repeated slowly.

Oh hell no.

“I’m not doing this,” I muttered, turning away.

“Sapphire! Sapphire wait!” My mum caught up to me. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” I said sharply.

“Well this is your home now.”

She stopped me in my tracks.

“What?”

She sighed. “We’re going to be living here from now on.”

I didn’t know when the laughter burst out of me.

I was waiting for her to laugh along with me. I was waiting for the punchline—there was none.

The smile faded from my lips, “You’re being serious?”

She nodded slowly. “I was going to tell you—”

“When??? You literally waited after the wedding to tell me this??” I gasped in disbelief.

She reached for my hand, “Listen to me—”

I ripped my hand away, “Don’t! Just don’t!” My eyes grew teary as I stormed off, not before catching the bastard staring at me from the doorway.

“Sapphire!” She called out, but I didn’t stop this time.

There was no way, no fucking way I was staying here, and with that bastard??

Over my dead body.