The day I was welcomed back into the family, my fiancé, the one I'd been betrothed to since birth, was already planning his wedding to the fake heiress. My new parents shielded her behind them. "We are a prominent family, and Jane was raised by us to be a proper lady!" "You've spent twenty years as a street urchin. You're not fit for high society. Know your place." My supposed fiancé, Byron, pulled the fake heiress into his arms. "The Vance family has no need for a classless country bumpkin. And I could never love a social climber desperate to latch onto wealth." The fake heiress, Jane, dropped to her knees at my feet. "I know this was all meant to be yours, sister, but Byron and I are truly in love! Please, I'm begging you, let us be happy!" Hold on. I'm a guy. What the hell do I need a fiancé for? Did any of these people even glance at my file before bringing me here? Although... My eyes drifted to Jane. She did look rather pitifully beautiful... 1 I watched Jane's tears stream down her face like a tragic heroine's, saw the defensive glares from my parents and my "fiancé," and quickly waved my hands. "Look, I know I have long hair, but that's purely for artistic reasons. My gender is—" "What's wrong with long hair?" Byron cut me off, his voice sharp. "Long or short, you have no right to set foot in the Vance family home." "No, that's not what I meant. I have long hair, but I'm—" "Enough!" My parents thrust a thick binder into my hands. "We don't have time for your excuses. When the poor suddenly strike it rich, the first thing they do is try to steal what isn't theirs. Memorize these rules. I'll be quizzing you at eight tonight." The document, thicker than a textbook, landed heavily in my lap. I flipped through it. Mr. Sterling takes his morning coffee with three sugars, served at precisely 113 degrees Fahrenheit. Mrs. Sterling's sandwiches must have the crusts cut off, no mayonnaise. Jane begins her dance practice at dawn. Her practice clothes and towel must be folded into perfect rectangles and placed side-by-side on the bench. Before the housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, begins cooking, the vegetables must be washed and chopped within thirty minutes to not disrupt her workflow. I held up the binder. "So, I'm supposed to wait on Mrs. Gable too?" "You're new here. Twenty years on the streets have made you wild. You must learn the rules," my mother said icily. "The Sterlings are a family of standing. Just because you're our child doesn't mean you can run wild." "If you can't learn the rules, you don't deserve to call us Mom and Dad." I pointed at Jane. "Then why doesn't she have to do any of this?" "Julian!" Byron's voice was a low growl as he stepped in front of Jane. "Are you suggesting my fiancée should act like a servant?" A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "So you do know this is a list of chores for a servant!" With a flick of my wrist, I sent the binder flying. Pages fluttered through the air like morbid confetti. "If you didn't want me back, just say so! Who are you trying to humiliate with all these rules? The Sterling family? I don't want any part of it!" I turned to leave. A flash of panic crossed my parents' faces. Humiliating me was one thing. Kicking out their long-lost child the day he returned would be a scandal they couldn't afford. "Julian! Come back! We were just joking!" "You don't have to learn the rules! Just come back!" I was about to stop when a hand grabbed mine. I turned. Jane was looking up at me, her eyes shimmering with tears. My gaze dropped to our intertwined hands, and for a second, my heart skipped a beat. "Sister... if anyone should leave, it's me. I know you must hate me." "It's fine, I understand. I know that the life I have was stolen from you. I'll go!" "Wait, wait," I said, trying to pull my hand away. "Don't call me sister. I'm—" "I know..." she interrupted, her voice choked with sobs. "You resent me. You won't accept me as your sister. But don't worry, I won't fight you for Mom, Dad, or Byron..." With that, she covered her mouth and ran for the door. I moved to stop her, but a heavy shoulder slammed into me, sending me stumbling. My head narrowly missed the corner of a table. Byron had already caught Jane, pulling her into a comforting embrace while my parents rushed to her side, cooing softly. "Don't stop me! Let me go, sob..." Jane struggled, but every movement seemed to press her deeper into Byron's chest. Finally, the three of them were clinging to each other in a tearful group hug. "It's all his fault!" my mother cried. "If he had never come back, our sweet Jane would never have been hurt!" Hearing her words, I rubbed my bruised knee. This entire family was certifiably insane. But... My eyes narrowed. Walking away now would be letting them off too easy. A prominent family, they said? Fine. This family fortune? I'm coming for it. 2 The next day, the Sterlings laid out their terms. They would accept me. "However, to the public, Jane will remain the true Sterling heiress. You will be our adoptive son." "Jane has been suffering ever since you arrived. Consider this compensation for her pain." I didn't argue. Blood is blood. A piece of paper couldn't change that. When the time came, they'd have to give me my due. Whether I was the "true heir" or not... what did it matter? Jane, Byron, and I all attended the same university. In the science lab, I borrowed a classmate's hand mirror and studied my reflection. Long hair, a slender face. Though my features had a masculine edge, I was often mistaken for a woman with a strong, striking look. A phone appeared in my peripheral vision. "Hey beautiful, can I get your number?" I replied on instinct. "Dude, I'm a guy." The guy stared at me for a moment, surprised. He didn't lower his phone. "Works for me." "Get lost!" I touched my neck. Was my Adam's apple really that unnoticeable? Maybe I should stop wearing turtlenecks. Later, heading to the restroom, another hand reached out. Without looking up, I said, "Not interested." The next thing I knew, I was being dragged into the men's room. "You're that little bitch causing trouble for Jane, aren't you? Asking for numbers? Who the hell do you think you are?" My chin was forced up. A few guys leered at me with nasty grins. "You're not bad-looking, I'll give you that. But some things are way out of your league, bitch. Get the camera ready. We're gonna film this freak's every move!" It clicked. They were going to take compromising photos. Even though I'm a guy, I don't let anyone push me around. My fist shattered the phone's camera lens. My next blow connected with the leader's nose. A sickening crunch echoed in the tiled room. "Holy shit! This bitch is strong!" I grabbed his collar. "You picked the wrong guy to mess with!" "Damn, for a girl, she can really fight!" "Get her! What are you waiting for?!" I kicked one of them down and made a break for it, but there were too many of them. Another guy blocked the door. An arm wrapped around my neck, and I was hauled back. "You bitch, you dare hit me!" A fist slammed into my face. I tasted blood instantly. I didn't back down, gritting my teeth and fighting back with everything I had. But they overwhelmed me, pinning me against the cold, tiled wall. "Rip her clothes off!" My turtleneck was torn at the collar as three or four pairs of hands clawed at me. The new phone's camera was pointed right at my body. Just as they were about to rip the shirt from my chest, a furious voice roared from the doorway. "Stop!" 3 I was pinned to the wall, a forearm crushing my throat. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, and my eyes were red with fury. When Byron walked in, that's the sight that greeted him: me, cornered and bloodied, but still fighting like a cornered wolf. "M-Mr. Vance..." the guys stammered, their bravado vanishing instantly. "Who told you to do this?" Byron's voice was dangerously low. "Uh... we were just trying to stand up for Jane..." "I'll deal with him my own way. It has nothing to do with you." "Yes, sir..." With a sigh of impatience, Byron's cold gaze landed on me. "Get a handle on yourself. Stop embarrassing Jane out in public." "You're insane!" I spat, wiping the blood from my mouth, which only smeared it across my cheek. He frowned, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "I'm the one who got jumped! If anyone needs to get a handle on themselves, it's you and Jane!" Shoving past him, I slammed my shoulder into his, repaying him for the shove he'd given me yesterday. Muttering "freaking psycho" under my breath, I went to the sink to clean my wounds. As I was splashing cold water on my face, a tube of antiseptic cream was placed quietly on the counter beside me. I looked up. Byron glanced at me, his eyes unreadable. "Don't get the wrong idea," he said flatly. "I just don't want you running to my aunt and uncle with some sob story to make Jane look bad." Then he turned and walked out. My mouth twitched. Yep. A whole family of psychos. 4 When I got back to the Sterling mansion, a dinner party was in full swing. The Vance family were the guests of honor. For someone living on a six-hundred-dollar-a-month allowance, the high-society chatter held zero interest for me. I was focused on the food. That is, until something fell out of my pocket. Before I could react, Jane had already bent down to pick it up. "Sister..." she said, holding up the used tube of antiseptic cream, her smile strained. "I never knew you were so resourceful. Yesterday you were disowning the family, and today you've already managed to get a gift from my fiancé?" I kept chewing. How could such a pretty girl be so relentlessly passive-aggressive? "I forgot to throw it out," I said honestly. After I'd used it, I couldn't find a trash can and just shoved it in my pocket. "You can't even come up with a better excuse than that, sister?" Her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, stopping my fork midway to my mouth. I sighed. "Look, miss, I promise you, on my life, I will never, ever fight you over a man." She waved the cream in my face, her laugh dripping with scorn. "I know your type. These little games, stirring up drama—it's what people from the gutter do best, isn't it? But do you really think your pathetic little tricks will actually win Byron over? Let's make a bet, shall we? Let's see who he saves—you, or me?" Before I could process her words, she yanked me with surprising force. "Hey! What are you doing?!" "Ah! Sister, why are you pushing me?!" Tangled together, we both tumbled into the ornamental lake. I tried to break the surface for air, but she was pinning me down, making a show of flailing and choking. "Help me! Byron!" "Jane!" Byron's panicked voice cut through the chaos, followed by a loud splash. I choked on a mouthful of water. "Byron! You—" A wave crashed over my head. Byron shoved me aside without a second glance, scooping Jane into his arms. He carried her back to the shore without looking back, leaving me alone in the dark water. I thrashed, trying to stay afloat. On the bank, Jane was already weaving her story. "I... I don't know what happened. I just picked up the tube of cream for my sister, and she pushed me into the water..." Byron's eyes fell on the used antiseptic cream, and his expression turned thunderous. "Julian! I knew it! Your act this afternoon was just to get sympathy! The moment no one's watching, you attack Jane?" He gritted his teeth. "You really are despicable!" My parents rushed to Jane's side, their faces streaked with tears. "Julian! We took you in out of the kindness of our hearts, and this is how you treat our daughter?!" "It's true what they say. Twenty years without proper raising... you're nothing but gutter-trash, your mind filled with jealousy and spite!" The party guests stared, their whispers like hissing snakes. "That adoptive son is so ungrateful! The Sterlings really took in a viper!" "You can't wash the filth off someone from the streets. Poverty breeds a twisted soul." Jane dabbed at her eyes, but she shot a quick, triumphant glance in my direction. Her smirk said it all. See? He chose me. Psycho. It's not like I can't swim. 5 By the time I dragged myself out of the lake, Byron had already carried Jane inside the villa, my parents trailing anxiously behind him. As I stood there dripping, the guests' whispers followed me. "That adoptive son is quite striking, though. Almost androgynous." "It's often the case. Masculine women and feminine men tend to be the most beautiful." "A shame he has such a dark heart." ...What is wrong with these high-society types? They're all as crazy as the Sterlings. The cuts on my face stung from the lake water. Cursing under my breath, I headed back to my room. The moment I opened the door, Jane was there, her eyes red-rimmed as she grabbed my hand. "Julian, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to push you in. I'm just so scared of losing them. Without them, I have nowhere to go. Please don't hate me..." My voice was ice. "You're so scared of being abandoned that you'll sacrifice an innocent person without a second thought?" "Julian..." Her eyes welled up again. I cut her off. "Save it. There's no one here to watch your performance." I actually used to find her charming. How could she be this kind of person? "And one more thing. Stay out of my room." I pushed her out and locked the door behind her. After tending to my wounds and taking a hot shower, I slept soundly until morning. I had barely opened my eyes when I heard Jane's frantic cries from outside. "My dress can't be gone! I left it right on my desk, ready for my birthday today!" Jane's dress is missing? My bedroom door burst open. Jane stood there, her eyes swollen from crying, and then she pointed dramatically at my closet. "Ah! Is that...?" I turned. A sliver of red fabric was visible, peeking out from the closet door. Byron stormed into the room and yanked the closet open. A magnificent, diamond-encrusted couture gown tumbled out. Jane gasped, covering her mouth. "Julian... did you... did you steal my dress?" 6 So that's why Jane was in my room last night. It wasn't an apology. She was planting the dress and I caught her before she could leave. "How could you!" My mother shoved me back onto the bed. "Jealousy is one thing, we can almost understand that. But to think you'd resort to stealing! How did we ever give birth to such a worthless son!" My jaw dropped. "Worthless son?" Even if I was a guy, is that something a parent should ever say to their child? "Call the police! Call them now! We can't let him get away with this!" "Mom!" Jane rushed to her side. "It's okay. Julian has probably never seen such a beautiful dress before. He was just momentarily tempted. I forgive him!" "Never seen one so he can just steal it?!" my father roared. "This is a matter of principle!" "But... Dad, that dress is worth over a million dollars. If you call the police, he'll go to jail." "Then let him go to jail!" my mother shrieked, her eyes blazing with hatred. "If he doesn't learn a hard lesson, he'll never change!" Byron glanced at me, his expression unreadable. The wail of sirens grew louder outside. I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was getting ridiculous. 7 I thought I could just explain myself in court and this would all be over. I was wrong. On the day of the trial, my lawyer was replaced. The one who had prepared my entire defense was swapped out for someone my parents had hired. This new lawyer was famous for one thing: saying absolutely nothing. As I stared in disbelief at the lengths they would go to, I saw them sitting with the lawyer they'd hired for Jane—Mr. Davies, the man who'd supposedly give Disney's legal team a run for their money. He had never lost a case. My parents looked at me, their faces hard as stone. "Julian, it's time you took responsibility for your actions." After Mr. Davies delivered a long, eloquent prosecution, it was my lawyer's turn. I looked at him, waiting. He cleared his throat and spoke in a calm, measured tone. "No objections." A smug smile touched my mother's lips. "In that case," the judge began, "this court finds the defendant, Julian Sterling, guilty of theft..."
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