I was known in Los Angeles as the ultimate "sister-girl," and he was the notorious "brother-boy." For the sake of our families' interests, we entered into a strategic marriage. On our wedding night, I laid down three ground rules: separate rooms, live our own lives, and no interference. Yet, right in front of me, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes deep with intent. "Not allowed, wifey." My pupils dilated wildly; I thought I had stumbled upon a wolf in sheep's clothing. Instead, he leaned into my ear, his voice a wronged and resentful whisper: "My brother said if you don't fall in love with me, he'll cut off my allowance." 1 My wedding to Leonard Hadley was hailed as the best commercial alliance of the year in Los Angeles. The Swift and Hadley families had been locked in a bitter feud since before I could remember—the kind of rivalry where coffee mugs flew across boardrooms. Now, these two powerhouses were uniting through marriage. I, Lila Swift, the younger daughter of the Swift family, was a professional slacker, content to be supported by my older sister, Olivia. He, Leonard Hadley, the second son of the Hadley family, was an enigmatic figure living under the formidable shadow of his older brother, Arthur Hadley. I was known in our circles as a devoted "sister-girl," with Olivia, the woman who single-handedly took a company public, setting my only KPI as "just be happy." Leonard, on the other hand, was rumored to be the ultimate "brother-boy," with his brother Arthur supposedly handling everything for him. They even said if Leonard sneezed, Arthur would send someone to check the humidity levels. To outsiders, our union was merely a strategic exchange of resources between two giant corporations, using their "unremarkable" offspring. I didn't care; my life goal was to just coast by. Leonard seemed equally unfazed. They said he didn't even lift an eyelid when he signed the marriage certificate. At the wedding, our forced smiles ached my cheeks. Finally, on our wedding night, I kicked off my heels and collapsed onto the enormous matrimonial bed, feeling my soul ascend. Leonard walked in, his suit impeccable, his face still bearing that aloof "don't mess with me, my brother is terrifying" expression. I cleared my throat and pulled out the pre-prepared post-nuptial agreement. "Leonard, let's be upfront." I slapped the agreement on the nightstand: "First, separate rooms. This mansion has plenty." "Second, independent finances. We'll live our own lives, no meddling. For appearances, we'll act like a loving couple when necessary, mostly for our families." "Third, and most importantly, don't fall in love with me. It won't end well." Having laid down the law, I struck what I thought was a cool and indifferent pose, waiting for him to gratefully sign. Leonard listened in silence, not bothering to look at the agreement. He just looked at me, his handsome, almond-shaped eyes narrowing slightly, and then he smiled. That smile, how should I put it? Three parts amusement, seven parts absolute certainty. My heart skipped a beat. Something was off. This wasn't the script. Shouldn't he be sighing in relief and saying, "Exactly what I wanted"? The next second, right in front of me, he slowly, button by button, undid his shirt. His muscular chest and chiseled abs were faintly visible under the crystal chandelier. A wave of pure pheromones washed over me. I froze, alarm bells blaring in my head. Oh God! Was this 'brother-boy' just an act? Is he actually a cunning wolf in sheep's clothing? Is a business marriage really a package deal that includes losing my virginity? Olivia! Save me! He stepped closer, his tall frame completely engulfing me. I swallowed hard, my body instinctively shrinking back. "You... what do you want? I'm warning you, forced love doesn't last!" He leaned over, his hands bracing on either side of my body, trapping me between the headboard and him. His warm breath tickled my ear. "Not allowed, wifey." His voice was deep and magnetic, carrying a hint of seduction. My mind went blank, my pupils dilating wildly. This is it! My virtue is doomed tonight! How am I going to explain this to Olivia? Just as I was about to scream and perhaps grab the bedside lamp to physically "enlighten" him, he leaned in closer, his voice a low, injured whisper meant only for me: "My brother said if you don't fall in love with me, he'll cut off my allowance." Me: "?" I slowly formed a question mark in my mind. What the hell? Did I just imagine that? Seeing my bewildered expression, he sighed, pulled out his phone from his inner jacket pocket, and showed me a chat log. The contact was saved as [My Only Bro]. The latest message clearly read: [You have three months to make your wife, Lila, fall head over heels for you. Fail, and you can work for the rest of your life to earn money for your sports cars and game skins.] I: "..." Leonard put away his phone, looking utterly devastated: "So, wifey, for the sake of my sports cars and skins, just make a small sacrifice and fall in love with me." I looked at his face, handsome enough to make gods and men alike swoon, and his expression of tragic heroism, as if sacrificing everything for his KPI. For a moment, I didn't know whether to mock his romantic cluelessness or pity him for having such a devilish brother. This marriage was getting weirder by the minute. 2 On the first day of our marriage, I gained an entirely new understanding of my "brother-boy" husband. He wasn't a cunning wolf; he was just... a rich man's clueless son. Driven by the KPI his brother had set, he launched his "love pursuit" mission bright and early. I was still dreaming of swimming with the Hermès bags my sister bought me when I was choked awake by a strong smell of burning. Rushing to the kitchen, I saw Leonard, dressed in six-figure pajamas, staring blankly at an unrecognizable, charred object. Next to him, the expensive German-imported oven was beeping furiously, spewing thick smoke. "Leonard, what are you doing? Alchemy?" I was aghast. He turned to me, two smudges of soot on his face making him look adorably innocent. "My brother said that to capture a woman's heart, you must first capture her stomach. I was making you a loving breakfast." He pointed at the black, unknown object: "This is French toast. It's just that the cooking time might have been... slightly over." I looked at the "toast" that could double as a weapon, then at his innocent face, and fell into a deep contemplation. His brother was a devil, and he himself seemed to be a few screws loose. In the end, we both sat in the million-dollar kitchen, slurping instant noodles, for our first breakfast as a married couple. "Wifey," he mumbled, noodles hanging from his mouth, "do you think my performance today managed to spark even a tiny bit of affection in you?" I stared at him blankly: "Yes, it did, in a 'whatever' kind of way." His eyes lit up: "Really?" "Really," I nodded. "Right now, I want to pack you up and send you back to your brother, telling him this KPI is too hard, and I quit." His face instantly fell, like a giant golden retriever abandoned. "Don't, wifey, I can still try harder!" I ignored him, finished my noodles, and went back to bed to catch up on sleep. This marriage was becoming more of a joke every day, and I was the audience who couldn't laugh. In the evening, both families planned a dinner, a sort of post-wedding homecoming gathering. The venue was an exclusive club with absolute privacy. Olivia came to pick me up, her sharp eyes scanning me like an X-ray the moment I got into the car. "He didn't do anything to you, did he?" "Sis, you're overthinking," I yawned. "What could he do to me? He can't even toast bread." Olivia snorted: "I wouldn't expect him to dare. What good could Arthur, that eternal iceberg, teach his brother?" A thought sparked in my mind: "Sis, are you very close to Arthur?" "Not at all," Olivia's expression instantly cooled by three degrees. "Just a business rival." I felt something was off, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it. When we arrived at the private room in the club, my parents and Leonard's parents were already there, the four elders beaming as if they could already envision the glorious future of our merged families conquering Wall Street and Nasdaq. Leonard and I were made to sit together. He leaned in discreetly: "Wifey, I'll peel shrimp for you later. My brother says girls like that." I rolled my eyes: "Just don't feed me the shells." Just then, the door to the private room opened. My sister, Olivia, walked in, striking in a sharp black suit, her presence commanding. Almost simultaneously, another man entered. He wore a custom-tailored suit of the same color, his figure tall and handsome, but the atmospheric pressure around him was low enough to freeze penguins. Everyone there, except Leonard, knew him—Arthur Hadley, the true power behind the Hadley family. I clearly saw that the moment Olivia saw Arthur, a tiny crack appeared on her perpetually icy face. And Arthur, upon seeing Olivia, his gaze abruptly narrowed, as if he'd witnessed something incredible. The air instantly froze. The smiles on the elders' faces also stiffened. My dad and mom exchanged glances, while Leonard's parents awkwardly coughed. Only Leonard and I, the two clueless ones, remained oblivious. "Bro, why are you here?" Leonard stood up, surprised and delighted. "Sis, I thought you said you weren't coming?" I was equally astonished. Olivia ignored me. Arthur ignored Leonard. Their gazes, like invisible swords, clashed and fought fiercely in the air, sparks flying. It was then that I belatedly realized... The "business rival" Olivia mentioned. And the "only brother" my husband spoke of. They seemed... a little too "unfamiliar" with each other. After a long moment, Olivia spoke first, her voice so cold it seemed to drop ice shards. "Mr. Hadley, what a coincidence." Arthur's thin lips curved into a chilling smile. "Ms. Swift, no coincidence. I'm here for my brother's family dinner." His gaze swept over me, then landed on Leonard, and finally, precisely fixed on Olivia's face, as he said, word by word: "I didn't realize my brother's wife was... your sister." Boom— My mind felt like it had been hit by an atomic bomb. I finally understood. My sister's arch-nemesis. My husband's own brother. I... I... I... I married my sister's arch-nemesis's brother?! What was this? A marriage of convenience? Or an undercover mission deep into enemy territory? I looked at my sister's murderous face, Arthur's face that looked ready to self-destruct, and then at Leonard, still utterly bewildered. I felt like our four relationships were more tangled than a spider's web in a forgotten cave. This dinner was beyond salvage. 3 That "unpleasant dinner" ultimately ended with the elders awkwardly making excuses to leave, Olivia and Arthur staring daggers at each other, and Leonard and I shivering in fear. On the way home, I sat in Olivia's car, barely daring to breathe. Olivia drove, her fingers gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white, as if it wasn't a wheel but Arthur's neck. "Lila." She finally spoke. "Here!" I snapped to attention. "From today, your mission has changed." "Huh?" "Make his life miserable," Olivia's voice was devoid of warmth. "Make his brother feel the pain, make his brother come begging to me." I: "..." Sis, are you asking me to stage a domestic drama or a spy thriller? On the other side, Leonard had also been taken away by his brother. According to him, his brother remained silent in the car for half an hour, only to utter one sentence at the end: "Keep her happy, keep her sister happy, and make sure her sister doesn't go crazy again." And so, Leonard and I, two couch potatoes who had only wanted to chill, became pawns in our siblings' war overnight. Our marriage, which began as a mere business agreement, escalated into a silent battlefield. The next day, we met at the restaurant, both sporting heavy dark circles under our eyes. "Good morning, wifey." Leonard greeted me weakly. "It's anything but." My face was ashen. We exchanged glances, seeing four words clearly written in each other's eyes: Life is hopeless. "My sister said..." "My brother said..." We both spoke at the same time, then stopped. "You first," I gestured. Leonard wore a tragic expression: "My brother wants me to take you shopping today, make you happy, and ideally, make sure your sister knows how happy you are." I scoffed: "Funny, my sister wants me to drive you half-crazy today, and ideally, make sure your brother knows you're on the verge of a breakdown." Leonard: "..." I: "..." How were we supposed to do this job? We sat at opposite ends of the long dining table, staring at each other, speechless, with only tears flowing. Finally, I slammed my hand on the table. "Let's go! Shopping!" Leonard's eyes lit up: "Wifey, you're willing to cooperate?" "Cooperate my ass!" I snarled. "If I don't max out your card today, my name isn't Swift!" I was going to fulfill my sister's mission! Drive him crazy! Make his brother's heart ache! Far from being angry, Leonard looked relieved, as if I was finally catching on. "No problem, wifey! My brother gave me a secondary card, no limit! Spend as much as you want! The more you spend, the more he'll know how happy I'm making you!" I: "?" This logic... seemed to make sense, and yet felt utterly flawed. And so, an utterly bizarre scene unfolded in the luxury boutiques of Los Angeles. I, Lila Swift, would emotionlessly point at a row of bags: "Take everything but the green one." The sales assistant would be so excited she nearly fainted. Meanwhile, Leonard, behind me, would be smiling even wider than the assistant, swiping his card and cheering me on. "Wifey! Go, go, go! This color is lovely too! Buy it!" "Wifey! This collection is new! Get them all!" "Wifey! Are you tired? Want to rest before round two?" I carried my bags and felt like an emotionless shopping robot. Leonard, on the other hand, was like a cheerleader on a sugar high. Passersby would point and whisper. "Oh my god, is that Leonard Hadley and his new wife? He spoils her so much!" "Yes, yes, look how pale Ms. Swift looks from anger, and Mr. Hadley is still trying to coax her into buying more!" "What kind of fairy-tale romance is this! I'm so jealous!" Hearing the whispers around me, I nearly spat out a mouthful of blood. Pale from anger? I was pale from exhaustion! I was just utterly bewildered by his bizarre tactics! That afternoon, I spent a figure with eight digits on his card. I was dead tired, slumped in the car, unwilling to move. Leonard, however, was full of energy, snapping photos of every receipt, bundling them up, and sending them to his brother. Then, he handed me his phone. [My Only Bro] replied with two words: [Not bad.] Leonard looked at me expectantly, as if seeking praise: "Wifey, look, my brother is very pleased. You worked hard today, this is your reward." He magically produced a small box from behind his back. I opened it to find a dazzling diamond necklace. "This is..." "The one you looked at twice earlier," he smiled like an idiot. "I secretly bought it for you. Do you like it?" I looked at the necklace, then at his hopeful eyes. I suddenly felt that Olivia's mission for me might be... a little challenging. Because this man... he just couldn't be angered to death! 4 My plan to exasperate Leonard to death ended with me utterly exhausted, his brother pleased, and me unexpectedly receiving a diamond necklace. Total failure. I wasn't having it. I, Lila Swift, queen of slacking, could not fail at a single KPI! I started contemplating a more sophisticated approach. Soon, an opportunity arose. The Hadley family was hosting a grand business gala to celebrate our "wedding of the century." All the influential figures in Los Angeles would be in attendance. My sister, Olivia, would also be there. This was practically a tailor-made stage for my social demise plan! I confidently told Olivia: "Sis, don't worry, this time I'll make Leonard lose face in front of all of Los Angeles, and make his brother furious enough to have a heart attack!" Olivia raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that said, "I have high hopes for you." On the night of the gala, I wore a striking red gown, my arm linked with Leonard's, as we gracefully entered the venue. Leonard was in a pristine white tuxedo, looking like a prince. My inner devil was roaring: Soon, I'll turn you into a drowned rat! My plan was simple: In front of everyone, I would pretend to slip and "accidentally" spill my glass of red wine all over his pristine white suit. White with red, the visual effect would be absolutely explosive. A distinguished young gentleman, at his own family's gala, splattered like a red and white polka-dotted dog by his new wife. The image alone was thrilling to imagine. Leonard would surely be socially annihilated on the spot, and his brother Arthur's face would be slapped repeatedly. Perfect! I congratulated myself on my brilliant plan. The opportunity quickly presented itself. The emcee invited us onto the stage to receive everyone's blessings. Spotlights shone on us, and countless eyes from the audience were fixed on our every move. I held my wine glass, adjusted my angle, took a deep breath, and leaned slightly— Faster than words could tell, before I could even "slip," Leonard suddenly stumbled. He stepped on the hem of my gown. I: "!" Before I could react, I completely lost my balance and tumbled forward. The red wine glass flew from my hand, tracing a graceful red arc through the air, and then... Splat! It landed precisely on Leonard's head. The wine dripped down his hair, staining his handsome face crimson, and his white suit was utterly ruined. As for me, I plunged headfirst into his arms. The entire hall fell into a deathly silence. I could hear the collective gasp of countless people. I was stunned. This wasn't how the script was supposed to go! I just wanted to spill wine on him, not crack his head open! Leonard was equally bewildered. He looked down at me in his arms, then felt his wine-soaked hair, his eyes filled with confusion. "Wifey... is this... an overly passionate display of love?" I: "..." I wanted to die on the spot. Just then, something even more absurd happened. Leonard tripped over something else, dragging me down with him. We tumbled like rolling gourds, knocking over the champagne tower behind us. Crash! Hundreds of champagne flutes shattered on the floor, golden liquid splattering everywhere. The scene descended into utter chaos, like something out of a disaster movie. Leonard and I lay amidst the wreckage, drenched head to toe in champagne. I closed my eyes in utter despair. So this is what social death felt like. It was over. My sister's mission failed, Leonard's mission failed, and the honor of both the Swift and Hadley families was completely sunk in the Pacific Ocean today. I felt two deadly gazes from Olivia and Arthur, threatening to flay us alive. In the midst of the chaos, Leonard struggled to his feet and then pulled me up. I expected him to erupt in anger, or at least question me. Instead, he surveyed the wreckage, looked at our disheveled selves, and then, surprisingly, gave me a thumbs-up. His eyes were sparkling, filled with the excitement of having narrowly escaped death. "Wifey, well done!" I: "???" You call this well done? He leaned in, his voice a low, excited whisper: "My brother will definitely feel so sorry for me seeing us like this! He'll think I suffered so much just to make you happy! This month's bonus is guaranteed! No, it has to be double!" My brain crashed instantly. I looked at his sincere and radiant smile, then at my sister's face, which looked ready to faint from sheer exasperation. I finally understood. Leonard's and my thought processes were probably a galaxy apart. I tried to make him socially annihilate himself, but he thought I was helping him achieve his KPI. This battle was unwinnable. I, Lila Swift, surrendered.
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