I was on a self-imposed sabbatical in the countryside when the text came in: I was the long-lost, biological son of the Kincaid family. When the two men in black suits strapped my hands behind my back, dragging me through the grand front hall, the fake heir, Chadwick Kincaid—Chad—stood behind my presumed parents, looking suitably distressed. He was a master of the wounded-gazelle routine. My biological father, Mr. Kincaid, a man whose face was chiseled from old granite, spoke in a frigid tone. “Your brother ruined the painting the Sinclair heiress sent to her younger brother. You will go to the Sinclair estate and apologize on his behalf.” Chad sniffled, his eyes red-rimmed, playing the role perfectly. “Don’t worry, little brother. If anything unfortunate happens to you, I promise I’ll be the dutiful son for Mom and Dad.” And my rumored fiancée, Brielle Lockhart, was staring at me with naked disgust. “Honestly, straight from the sticks. You reek of the gutter,” she spat, then turned her full venom on me. “Chadwick is too proud to ever bow his head. If you dare shirk this duty, you’ll be sorry you ever showed your face here.” Gutter? I looked down at the perfectly tailored high-end bespoke suit I was wearing. I’d only spent a few weeks in a quiet, remote town as a break from Manhattan life. How did that make me "poor"? More importantly, was my sister—the infamous Sloane Sinclair—really that heartless? It was just a painting I’d accidentally scuffed. Did it really warrant me being tied up and forced to grovel? … “Wait!” Just as the bodyguards began to haul me out, Brielle’s voice cut through the air. “I’ll go with him.” She walked toward us, adjusting the diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist. “The Sinclair estate isn’t some backyard BBQ. Their rules are absolute. This country bumpkin knows nothing of decorum. If he tries to run along the way, or if he gets there and opens his mouth to spout nonsense, offending one of the Sinclairs—” She paused, her expression still one of pure contempt. “Well, then not just him, but all of us will pay the price.” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “Remember, you must kneel for twelve straight hours at the Sinclair manor. That’s the only way to show true sincerity. Otherwise, your dirt-poor foster father back in the village…” The threat hung in the air, unfinished but crystal clear. Foster father? I froze. What in the hell were they talking about? When I was little and got lost, I hadn't been picked up by a struggling rural family. I was found at a quiet Jesuit retreat by the founder, a man who saw me praying alone and declared that I was a child sent by God, full of good fortune. He processed the adoption paperwork instantly, taking me in. Coincidentally, the year after I arrived, his niece, who had been struggling with a chronic, debilitating illness, made a miraculous, full recovery. The whole family believed I was the source of her good fortune. They had spoiled me senseless. They must have mistaken a family groundskeeper, Mr. Henderson, who had recently gone back to visit his own relatives, for a “rural foster father.” “Son, your mother and I do care about you, truly. After this whole ordeal is over, we will treat you properly.” My biological mother, Mrs. Kincaid, spoke up reluctantly, perhaps remembering the weak tug of blood relation. “Your brother grew up with us, sheltered. He hasn’t had a hard day in his life, so you’ll have to take the fall for him this time.” Treat me properly? I scoffed internally. My father had kept my DNA on file with the police for twenty years, just in case. But they didn’t come for me until Chad screwed up and needed a human shield. Did they think I wouldn’t notice the convenient timing? He hasn’t had a hard day in his life, but I have? Fine. This was the clarity I needed. I’d see this through, and then I’d call my real father and tell him he could finally close that decades-old missing person file. The Kincaids could have their perfect little family back. “Brielle, you’re an angel.” Chad gave me a smug, triumphant look, then wrapped an overly familiar arm around Brielle’s waist. “Maybe I should go too. My little brother has been in the boondocks for so long, he’s probably untamed. A second person is just insurance.” “I think you just can’t bear to be without me.” Brielle tilted her head and gave him a quick, possessive kiss on the lips. Untamed? I was shocked. If the Sinclairs heard him describe their 'good-luck charm' in those terms, the Kincaid family would be annihilated before sunset. Swallowing the laugh that threatened to spill out, I plastered a look of terrified obedience on my face. “Brielle, please don’t worry. I won’t run. I know you’re my fiancée, and I have to listen to you. Wherever you tell me to go, I’ll go.” “Shut up! How dare you call her Brielle? And whether or not that engagement even stands is still up for debate!” Chad raged, furious that the fake-heir title was about to expire. Brielle’s face softened fractionally. “Enough. Get in the car.” I watched the venomous jealousy flash in Chad’s eyes. This was his limit? We hadn't even started. The car pulled slowly away from the mansion. “You’re dead,” Chad hissed, leaning in close. His eyes were bright with a dark, ugly excitement. “The Sinclair heiress won’t let you off the hook. Let’s see what you’ll use to compete with me for Brielle and the Kincaid empire then.” He gripped my shoulder, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. “I’m telling you, everything here belongs to me. Once you get to that Sinclair estate, you’re finished.” The Sinclair estate. I almost chuckled. That sprawling property was where I’d spent my childhood being absolutely lawless. And the Sinclair heiress, the rumored cold and stunning woman—if I remembered correctly, my sister, Sloane, had once helped me steal a priceless antique chess set from my grandfather’s study. We’d both been punished with two hours of military-style drills in the sweltering heat. I wondered what kind of spectacular meltdown she would have seeing me, her little brother, bound up like livestock, delivered to her doorstep as a sacrificial lamb. Would she break their legs first? Or start with their hands? Ten minutes passed, and we hadn’t even made a dent in the drive. I strained against the ropes binding my arms, a surge of regret hitting me. I hadn’t realized the Kincaids lived this far from the Sinclairs. “You idiot, what are you doing?” Chad instantly yelled, his paranoia spiking. “It hurts,” I muttered, rolling my eyes inwardly. Was he always this dramatic? “Hurts? You’re some poor piece of trash from the country. You’re thick-skinned! You’ve been bound for ten minutes and you’re already pretending to be in pain? I bet you’re just trying to escape.” “Escape? I’m hogtied in the back of a black SUV. You show me how to run.” I was almost laughing at the sheer absurdity of his logic. “Brielle, I told you his intentions weren’t pure. He just said he’d obey you, and now look.” Chad fixed me with a hateful stare and then turned to Brielle, clearly hoping to egg her on. Brielle, predictably, took the bait. “I’m warning you, stay in line. Don’t try anything clever,” she sneered, her voice laced with superiority. “Who do you think you are? Don’t assume that just because you share a sliver of Kincaid blood, you’re suddenly someone important.” “Everything belongs to Chad. Just look at yourself. You can’t even compare to one of his hair follicles.” She paused, her voice dripping with further scorn. “As for me, don’t even dream about it. My husband will be a man of true pedigree, like Chad. A peasant raised in the middle of nowhere like you isn’t fit to tie my shoes. Get that through your head.” Chad smirked triumphantly but played the peacemaker. “Brielle, don’t talk like that. Even if he came from a low-class background, he’s still Mom and Dad’s son.” Low-class background. No one had ever dared to speak to me that way. I struggled to contain the furious emotion swelling inside me. My sister had taught me early on never to argue with an idiot. I deliberately curled my arms, making the tight knots dig into my wrists, and adopted a pitiful expression. “I’m sorry. I won’t move again.” I said, my voice meek. “Chad, you don’t have to worry. You are the sole Kincaid heir, and I’ll listen to everything you say. I won’t fight you for Brielle, either.” Seeing me so completely broken, Chad’s arrogance exploded. He couldn't help himself. He sighed dramatically. “Little brother, we’re only doing this for your own good. It’s good that you finally understand.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “People like us, born into this status, are on a different level than your dusty village. We’re taking you to the Sinclairs to show you how the real world works, and to teach you to be careful. Don't make mistakes.” But I wasn't prepared for his malice to escalate. He turned to Brielle again. “Brielle, I’m still worried. What if he gets nervous? What if he’s clumsy and offends the Sinclairs? He’ll get us all killed.” “We should practice first. Give him some mental prep.” “What are you talking about?” I lifted my head abruptly, a sudden, chilling sense of dread washing over me. “What am I talking about? Don’t you get it?” Chad spoke with a cold calmness. “We’re going to practice. A dress rehearsal. You need to show us how you’ll beg and grovel. Just so you don’t choke when the real show starts.” Before Brielle could respond, he ordered the driver to pull over into a deserted, wide-open spot. Before I could process it, he violently yanked me out of the car. I landed hard on the cold asphalt. “Alright, little brother. Kneel for me.” Chad stood over me, his gaze contemptuous. “Practice how to kowtow and how to plead for mercy.” “Go to hell!” I glared back, unable to stop the words. I kneeled only to the heavens, the earth, and my parents. Chad was nothing. “Still talking back?” The fake smile instantly vanished from Chad’s face. He drew back his leg and kicked me hard in the stomach. A shockwave of twisting pain radiated through me. My bound hands made it impossible to brace myself, and my forehead slammed into the ground. A warm, sticky liquid immediately flowed into my eye. “I knew you were faking it!” Chad’s face was a mask of pure fury. “You spoke so sweetly in the car, but now you refuse to kneel? You’re clearly plotting to get me killed!” Brielle rushed over, equally enraged. “You pathetic trash! We almost fell for your act!” “You think you’re too good for this? I’m telling you, you will kneel whether you want to or not. You have no choice!” “Dream on!” I gritted my teeth and spit a mouthful of blood and phlegm toward them. “Still resisting?” Brielle’s palm struck my face with all her strength. The ringing in my ears was instantly replaced by her furious voice. “I’m giving you this chance! You are Kincaid property, a mistake they picked up. You’re lucky to be alive! It’s an honor for you to take Chad’s punishment! If you don't start respecting the rules, I’ll be the one to teach you what they are.” “Don’t you dare!” I stared at her, my eyes blazing. I had been treated like a little prince, a source of good fortune my entire life. No one had ever dared to raise a hand or a voice against me. Who was Brielle Lockhart to teach me a lesson? My raw fury startled her for a moment. She faltered, then roared, enraged by her own momentary fear. “Watch me!” Chad stomped on my leg. Brielle slapped me again, and again, driven by a hysterical, escalating rage. “I’m a Lockhart heiress! You’re nothing but cheap goods from the sticks! I have every right to teach you a lesson! Stop looking at me like that!” She turned to the two hulking bodyguards. “Hold his head down and make him kowtow! When he learns his lesson, you can let him up!” The two men stepped forward instantly. One pinned my limbs, the other grabbed my head, forcing it down with crushing pressure. I struggled with every ounce of strength, but it was useless. Thud. My forehead hit the unforgiving pavement. My vision swam. Then, the warm, wet feeling returned, heavier this time. “Hahaha! Excellent!” Chad roared with laughter, watching my pathetic state. “See, little brother? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just cooperate? That’s a lovely, loud sound. Why go through all this trouble? A cheap life should know its place.” He ground the heel of his leather shoe onto my hand. The pain was blinding. Then, with his other hand, he mockingly patted my bruised cheek. “Good boy. Now, say ‘woof woof’ for us.” This was the ultimate humiliation. My body trembled, not from pain, but from white-hot rage. My eyes were bloodshot, staring daggers at him. I spoke through clenched teeth, every word dripping with venom. “Do you know who I am?” “I am Sloane Sinclair’s brother, June Sinclair.” I thought they would at least hesitate, maybe show a hint of doubt. Instead, they burst into raucous laughter, as if I had told the funniest joke in the world. “Hahaha! Did you hear that? The Big Sister’s brother? You must have lost your mind from the head trauma, or you’ve gone crazy from poverty and started hallucinating! The Sinclairs? Do you know who they are? They’re a dynasty that can shake the entire state of Connecticut with a flick of the wrist. Do you really think a piece of trash like you, dragged out of whatever mountain hole, can claim kinship?” Brielle leaned into Chad, giggling. “See, Chad? Good thing we made him practice. With this kind of raving madness, he would have ruined everything at the Sinclair estate and gotten us all wiped out.” He looked down at me, a dark glint in his eye. “It seems we won’t just make him apologize. We need to teach him a lesson for the Sinclairs. Sloane Sinclair is famously protective of her brother. If she hears this idiot is running around claiming to be him, she’ll be grateful to us for punishing him. We’ll get contracts, or even that prime piece of downtown land!” “Oh? What do you propose, Chad?” Brielle prompted, her eyes gleaming. Chad scanned the area. “Didn’t the ancients apologize by bringing a whip and thorns? Let’s honor tradition. Strip him, bind him with the thick, barbed rope, and drag him to the Sinclair estate. That’s what I call sincerity. I bet the Big Sister will be impressed.” Brielle’s face lit up. “My Chad is the smartest! Why didn’t I think of that?” It wasn’t until Chad pulled out a length of heavy, thorny vine that I realized he was serious. My eyes widened in terror. “Chad! Are you insane? This is assault! This is a felony!” “Law?” Chad scoffed. “Little brother, out here, I am the law. I’m helping you redeem yourself for the Sinclairs.” Chad ran his hand over the menacing barbs, grinning at my fear. “This is the only way Sloane Sinclair will believe our sincerity and forgive your insane babbling.” “Don’t you dare! Chad! Brielle! You wouldn’t!” I thrashed wildly, but the bodyguards held me fast. Brielle gave a cold wave of her hand. “Tear his clothes off and bind him. Make sure those ropes are tied tight. If a single one comes loose, you’ll lose your job—or worse!” The bodyguards lunged, ripping my suit jacket and dress shirt off. Then, they began brutally wrapping the thick, barbed vine around my back and arms. “Agh!” With every twist of the rope, the thorns dug deeper into my flesh. Blood instantly began to pour out, soaking the rope and the pavement beneath me. I couldn’t stop the scream. Chad’s excitement was manic. “That’s beautiful, little brother! So beautiful!” He squatted down, forcing his face close to mine. “When we get to the Sinclair estate, I want you to make that sound again. Every time you kowtow, I want you to scream it loud enough for the whole family to hear how deeply sorry this idiot is.” The ropes tightened further. More barbs pierced my skin. Each breath was an agony. I bit down on my lower lip until I tasted blood, swallowing the metallic tang. I fixed my scarlet eyes on them, the hatred absolute. I was fading. Consciousness was a distant shore. Suddenly, I heard Brielle’s sickeningly sweet, placating voice. “Oh, Miss Sinclair! Are you just heading out? What a coincidence.” Then, an older, familiar voice. “The Young Master is being a bit flighty and hasn’t come home yet. Miss Sloane is worried and going out to search for him.” Mr. Henderson. It was the family groundskeeper, the man they thought was my foster father. He was driving the car. A surge of frantic hope coursed through me. With my last ounce of energy, I stretched out my hand and fumbled for the car window button. The window whirred down. I saw her. My sister’s familiar, beautiful, decisive face. Tears instantly blurred my vision.
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