My Brother Wants to Thank Me... Or Ruin Me? のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

My younger brother, Oliver Lawson, called while I was standing in the grocery store, trying to pick out yogurt for my daughter, Emma Sullivan."Daphne, you've helped me more than I can ever repay over the years," he said. "My company's making money now, and I want to transfer 30% of the shares to you."I froze in front of the cooler, convinced I'd misheard him. "What did you just say?""I'm transferring 30% of the company to you. I've already had my lawyer draw up the paperwork. All you have to do is come sign it."Oliver's tone was relaxed and sincere, as though it were no big deal at all.Warmth spread through my chest when I heard that. Our parents had died years ago, leaving just the two of us to depend on each other. Back when Oliver was trying to get his business off the ground, I'd loaned him every penny I'd saved after my divorce. I'd even pulled Emma out of her tutoring program for a semester. Now that his company had finally taken off, he wanted to show his gratitude

In the end, I didn't sign."Oliver, I'm suddenly feeling a bit dizzy. I think my blood sugar dropped." I set the pen down and massaged my temples. "Give me a minute. I'll sign it in a bit."In an instant, Oliver looked worried. "Are you okay? Want me to get you a sweet drink?""No, it's fine. Go do what you need to. I'll just sit for a minute."He hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. I've got something to handle next door. I'll be back in five minutes."With that, he walked out of the office and shut the door.I waited until Oliver's footsteps had faded before grabbing the phone he'd left on the desk. The phone was locked, so I keyed in his birthday. But it wasn't the correct password. Mom and Dad's date of death wasn't it either.Then, I tried my birthday, and the phone unlocked.My heart hammered in my chest as I quickly opened his messages and found the conversation with Adam. The latest text read, "Did she sign yet? The boss is really pushing me. Today's the deadline."I

The comments weren't lying. Oliver's thoughts were. To be exact, those were never his real thoughts. He had been feeding me exactly what he wanted me to hear. Two things made me realize what was going on. First, Oliver's thoughts were too precise. What usually went through someone's mind?One would think about what to have for dinner, how much battery was left, or what time tomorrow's meeting would start. Even when someone cared about another person, their mind wouldn't be a constant monologue about them. There would always be distractions.But every one of Oliver's thoughts lined up perfectly with my vulnerabilities. My divorce, the mortgage, Emma, and our parents—listed one by one like a presentation deck. Those weren't thoughts. That was Oliver reciting lines. Second, when I asked whether his company had been involved in lawsuits, his response came too fast. If someone were asked that out of nowhere, they'd normally freeze for a second or ask why the question was being

The next day, I didn't reach out to Oliver. I needed time to clear my head and to get ready.That morning, I took the shirt I'd worn to Oliver's office—the one with the coffee stain on the cuff—to Laura. "Just this little bit?" she asked with a frown."Can you test it?""I can try," Laura said. "But I can't promise we'll find anything."…That afternoon, I went to the courthouse and pulled the case records for the three lawsuits against Oliver's company.The earliest one had been filed four months earlier. He'd already been sued four months earlier, yet he hadn't asked me to sign the agreement until last week.Only after he'd spent four months being sued did he suddenly remember to "repay my kindness". The timeline itself was the strongest evidence of all. …That evening, Oliver texted me. "How's the document coming along? If there's anything you don't understand, I'll explain it."I wrote, "I'm still going through it. There are a few clauses I want to run by a lawyer frie

When I left the Jolovian restaurant, Emma was still happily playing at the claw machines. "Mom, look! I got one!" she exclaimed, holding up an ugly little bear and grinning at me. I smiled, too. "Come on. Let's go get ice cream.""Yay!"I held Emma's hand as we walked through the mall. I couldn't say I felt relaxed, but at least the weight in my chest had eased a little. I had done what needed to be done and said what needed to be said. Whatever came next was Oliver's business. …When I got home that night, I transferred the audio from the recorder and made three copies—one on my phone, one on a USB drive, and one sent to my email. Charles told me that if there was a recording, there was evidence. If Oliver ever tried to turn on me later, I wouldn't be left defenseless. …For the next three days, Oliver didn't contact me. I didn't reach out to him either. But on the fourth night, he sent a long text message. I opened it and read it slowly, one word at a time. He w