My school uniform was still torn from the last day of exams when my mother, a fragile little flower who couldn't possibly survive in the wild, announced she had found me a stepfather. "You're not my blood," the man told me flatly. "Don't expect me to be a doting father." He tossed a black card onto the table. "Here's a million dollars as a welcome gift. From now on, your monthly allowance is only a hundred grand. Deal with it." My mother’s eyes went red, brimming with tears. "I'm so sorry, baby. It's all my fault. I'm useless. I let you suffer such indignity..." Indignity? I clutched the card. If this is suffering, please, let me suffer more. But that wasn't all. I also inherited a stepbrother. A billionaire CEO. 6'2", built like a Greek god, and rumored to be colder than a Siberian winter. Who says you can't have your cake and eat it too? 1 My mom is the queen of gold diggers. Back when my biological dad went bankrupt, all his other mistresses fled like rats on a sinking ship. Not my mom. She truly believed he would bounce back. She emptied her savings to help him, lecturing me on "The Long Game." "When he gets back on top," she'd say, "I'll be the only one left standing. The Queen Bee." Her calculations were... off. Dad didn't bounce back. He bounced off the pavement. Unable to handle the debt, he jumped from a building. He died, and we were left destitute. At our lowest point, my mom—who used to spend thousands on skincare—rolled up her sleeves and started collecting recyclables to pay for my tuition. She lost her glamour, waking up every day to scavenge for plastic bottles. I swore I would get into an Ivy League school and lift us out of poverty. But right after I finished my SATs, before I could even take off my worn-out uniform, she brought home a distinguished, middle-aged man. "Lola," she said. "Meet your new dad." Victor Sterling. The richest man in the city. I was stunned. Morning: scavenging for bottles. Evening: married to a billionaire? The plot twist was too much. My mom wept into Victor's expensive suit. "I didn't want you to see me like this... a bankrupt ex, a daughter in school, leeching parents... I had to pick up trash to survive. If you think I'm embarrassing, just leave me..." Victor held her tight. "You are strong and independent. How could I ever leave you?" Then he turned to me. "I love your mother," he said seriously. "You are just part of the package. Don't expect fatherly love." He threw the black card at me. "A million dollars to start. One hundred thousand a month after that." Mom cried harder. "I'm so sorry, Lola. I made you suffer." I squeezed the card. It took me a long time to realize: I was a prop in their romance. And a very well-paid one. 2 That night, I was shipped off to one of the Sterling family's "spare" villas. My delicate mother went off to her honeymoon nest with Victor. Her parting words: "Lola, you're eighteen. Time to be independent." Translation: Don't cockblock me. I stood alone in a massive, empty villa, clutching a million dollars. It was lonely. And creepy. The place was so big my footsteps echoed. My brain immediately started replaying every horror movie I'd ever seen. Too scared to go upstairs, I curled up on the living room sofa. In the middle of the night, I heard a noise. Rustle. Click. I bolted upright in the dark, grabbing a heavy vase. Terror gripped my throat. "Who's there?!" A shadow moved by the window. I squeezed my eyes shut and hurled the vase. CRASH! The lights blazed on. A man in a trench coat stood by the sofa, backlit like a model stepping off a runway. He looked down at the shattered porcelain at his feet, then at me. His gaze lingered on my tattered uniform. "Where did this little sparrow come from?" he drawled. "Feisty." I jumped up, defensive. Midnight. Strange man. Villa. This was a murder setup. He ignored my panic, pouring himself a drink with infuriating calm. The amber liquid swirled in the glass, matching the dangerous glint in his eyes. "Tsk. Is the sparrow going to peck me?" "Who are you?!" I shouted, bluffing. "Don't try anything! I'll call the cops!" He tipped his chin toward the sofa. "Your phone is right there. Pick it up and say that again." I froze. Then, the man started taking off his coat. Oh god. I'm just a high school graduate. Is he a pervert? My brain short-circuited. I looked for an exit. Before I could move, a heavy coat landed on my head, smelling of cedarwood and expensive cologne. "Didn't the old man buy you clothes?" he asked, sounding disdainful. "You look like a beggar." He walked upstairs, answering his phone on speaker. "Julian, baby~" a sultry male voice cooed from the phone. "Where did you go? Did you catch a canary?" "No canary," Julian replied, glancing back at me. "Just a little sparrow." I realized then. Julian Sterling. The heir. The Prince of the City. My stepbrother. This was his house. I had invaded his home and thrown a vase at him. I'm dead. 3 I was agonizing over how to apologize when Julian called from upstairs. "Sparrow! Get up here." I ran up. He had changed into white loungewear. The dangerous edge was gone, replaced by a soft, damp look. His hair was wet, water droplets clinging to the ends. "Staring?" he asked. I blushed and grabbed a towel. He didn't take it. He lay down on the sofa and pointed at his head. "Dry it." Guilt made me compliant. I started toweling his hair. Up close, he was devastatingly handsome. His skin was flawless. It was unfair. "I'm... sorry..." I whispered. "For what?" he asked, eyes closed. "I thought you were a burglar." Since Dad died, Mom and I had dealt with a lot of creeps. I was jumpy. If that vase had hit him... Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist and yanked. I fell onto his chest. Before I could scramble away, his arm locked around my waist. I was trapped in his heat, staring into his unreadable eyes. "How do you know," he murmured, "that I'm not a bad guy?" My heart hammered against my ribs. "You... you're my stepbrother now!" "Do you think I care about labels?" His grip tightened. I started to panic. Tears welled up. Why was he so unpredictable? "Let me go!" "And if I don't?" I pushed against his chin, desperate. My finger slipped and pressed against his lips. They were hot. Julian froze. He released me abruptly and sat up. "Keep your guard up, Sparrow," he said, touching his lip. His eyes were dark. "Or you'll get eaten alive." I threw the towel at him and ran downstairs, face burning. 4 His coat was still on the sofa. Angry and humiliated, I threw it on the floor and stomped on it. Take that, Julian! "Feel better?" I jumped three feet in the air. Julian was leaning over the railing, phone in hand. "That coat cost fifty grand. How are you paying?" My heart stopped. My allowance just took a massive hit. "I... I'll swipe my card!" "No need." He tossed the coat at me. "Wash it. Bring it back clean." He walked toward the door. The villa suddenly felt huge and empty again. I ran after him. He turned, raising an eyebrow. "I... I'm scared to be alone," I mumbled. "Not scared of me anymore?" "You won't kill me, right?" He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed into his phone. "Buy a juice. Be there in ten." He dragged me to the city's biggest nightclub. He shoved me into a booth and handed me a watermelon juice. "Drink this. Don't touch anything else," he whispered in my ear. The breath tickled. I shrank into the corner. "Yo, Julian! Changing tastes?" a guy shouted. "High school uniform? Really?" Julian shot him a cold look. The table went quiet. "Family. Watch your mouths." The silence lasted two seconds before the whispers started. "Family? Since when is he nice to family?" "Must be the new stepsister." Julian ignored them, leaning back in the shadows. "So she's not blood related?" A guy with bleached hair, Fred, squeezed next to me. "If Julian isn't playing, I'll take a turn..." Fred grinned, reaching for my hand. "Hey sweetie. You legal?" I looked at Julian. He was watching, eyes half-closed, doing nothing. Fred's hand touched mine. I snapped. I stood up and splashed the watermelon juice in Fred's face. "I'm not his stepsister," I hissed. "I'm his auntie!" I shoved past the stunned Fred and ran out. 5 I didn't go back to the villa. I called my best friend, Chloe. "Your mom married a billionaire and you got kicked out?" Chloe gasped. "Not by the dad. By the son." He watched me get harassed. He wanted me to know my place. He thought I was a gold digger like my mom. "I'm homeless, Chloe." "Don't worry!" Chloe thumped her chest. "I got you. We'll survive on ramen until college starts!" She handed me a pair of pajamas to replace my uniform. Just then, my phone buzzed. [Deposit: $100,000. Balance: $1,100,000. Note: July Allowance. - Stepdad.] Chloe snatched the pajamas back. "You call this homeless?!" "Technically..." "This is a luxury vacation!" she screamed. I told her everything. "Your stepbrother is trash," she concluded. "But... does he really have an eight-pack?" I facepalmed. "Priorities, Chloe?" "I've never seen abs in real life! Was it... hard?" I thought back to falling on him. "Yeah... hard. Like rocks." Chloe squealed. "Details! Was there a V-line?" "I was fighting for my life, not taking notes!" But... his lips were soft. "It's okay," Chloe said solemnly. "If you missed Julian, there's always Chad." "Who?" "Chad Miller. The class president." "Do I know him?" "He has a crush on you! Are you blind?" Chloe sighed. "Your mom has max charisma. How did you end up with zero EQ?"
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "387288", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel