The call from my mother found me feeding seagulls in the misty coastal town of Seabrook, Oregon. My stepbrother, Ethan, was completely wrapped around the little finger of a conniving vixen of a secretary. Not only was she demanding a ten-million-dollar “pre-nuptial gift,” but she was also on the verge of getting her hands on the entire family fortune, worth hundreds of millions. And me? His stepsister? I was the one that got away—the ghost of a love he could never have. My mother was at her wit's end. "I'd rather the entire fortune go to you than to some outsider!" I let out a bitter laugh. "Really? Now you remember I'm family?" 1 Ethan and I had been in love. My mother and his father both knew it. But they had branded our relationship a forbidden taboo, nailing it to a cross of shame for all to see. "What makes you think I'd be willing to help you?" I shot back. "You haven't given a damn whether I lived or died all these years." Did they honestly believe that after all this time, I was still pining for Ethan? My mother was silent for a long moment. "You always wanted your grandmother's house in Seabrook, didn't you? Keep that little fox out of our family, and the house is yours." A slow smile spread across my lips. "Deal. If she sets one foot in your house, I'll change my last name to yours, Mom." My name is Aria Frost. I have my father’s name, not hers. Ethan had always been a fool for love; I knew that better than anyone. When we were young, he’d nearly cut ties with his family for me, starving himself for three days straight in protest. And now, here he was, ready to give away a fortune for his new girlfriend, Jenna. Still, when I saw the scene unfolding in the private dining room—our parents haggling over millions while Ethan anxiously tried to soothe his pouting girlfriend, who had turned her back on him in a huff—an unnameable fire ignited in my gut. Had the idiot’s brain been eaten by dogs? Jenna's parents made no attempt to hide their greed. "Are we asking for too much, really? It's not even ten percent of your family's assets. And our Jenna has been with your son for five years." My mother tried to reason with them. "We've already compromised on the ten million. We've agreed to the private jet, the five-star hotel for all your guests. But a hundred grand for every single relative just to 'welcome her to the family'? What kind of logic is that? Do you think we print money?" Jenna's mother sniffed dismissively. "Now you're just being nasty. You think five years of our Jenna's youth isn't worth that much?" "Yeah, exactly!" Jenna's brother chimed in. While the Sterling family fortune was indeed in the hundreds of millions, their liquid cash was only a fraction of that. Coming up with ten million was already a massive stretch. But clearly, it wasn't enough for them. I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, enjoying the show for another moment before giving the door a light rap. All eyes turned as I stepped into the room, a vision in head-to-toe Chanel, clutch in hand, my stilettos clicking sharply on the polished floor. The stalemate was broken. "Sorry to interrupt." I walked right up to Ethan and Jenna and asked the waiter to bring another chair. Then, I reached out and gently ruffled Ethan’s soft hair. "It's been a long time, Ethan." Ten years. His eyes, suddenly red-rimmed, locked onto mine. The boyish immaturity was gone, replaced by the chiseled features of a man. He murmured my name, his voice thick with emotion. "Aria… you're back." Jenna’s internal alarms went into overdrive. "Ethan, honey, who is this?" A sly smile touched my lips as I turned to her. "Oh, forgive me. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Ethan's sister, Aria. You know, the stepsister. No shared blood." Jenna's eyes are a lot like mine, a fact she seemed to realize in that instant. Like a character in a novel, the stand-in for the real thing, she knew the sudden appearance of the "white moonlight"—the idealized first love—was a threat she couldn't ignore. Her pout vanished, replaced by a steely resolve. She gently tugged on the still-dazed Ethan's arm. "Ethan, honey, this is our first time meeting the parents. Since your sister is here, let's not talk about unpleasant things. Let's just have a nice family dinner and set a date for the wedding, shall we?" My mother picked up her cue perfectly. "Since the financial arrangements aren't settled, I don't think we should rush to set a date. It would be terribly embarrassing to call it off later." For once, Jenna's mother agreed. "That's right. A girl who's desperate to get married before the money's even been discussed? What a disgrace." Jenna looked like she was about to cry, frantically pulling at her mother's sleeve as if the chance would vanish if they didn't seize it right now. But her mother didn't care; that ten million was earmarked for Jenna’s brother to get married. Ethan finally snapped out of his trance, realizing how tense the room had become. He put a protective arm around Jenna and faced me. "Aria… this is my girlfriend, Jenna. No, my fiancée." Hearing this, Jenna's mother beamed, seeing the millions back within her grasp. Jenna herself blushed, nestling into his embrace. Her brother, Rick, saw his opening. "Hey, future brother-in-law, my sister mentioned you could get me a job at your company. I was thinking a manager role would be a pretty good fit for me, don't you think?" My mother and Ethan's father turned pale with fury. I just smiled sweetly at Ethan and nodded. "He has great taste." Emboldened by Ethan's support, Jenna’s confidence returned. "It's nice to meet you, Aria. I don't think Ethan's ever mentioned having a sister. Ethan, darling, how could you keep such a beautiful sister a secret from me?" "I wasn't around the family much. Kids forget things," I said, my voice light but my eyes cold as I propped my chin on my hand. "Still, not inviting me to something as big as your wedding? That's not very nice of you, Ethan." His brow furrowed, his expression turning cold. "It wasn't necessary." The lovers of yesterday, now facing each other like enemies. My mother stepped in to smooth things over. "Now that Aria's back, let's not discuss anything unpleasant. We can talk about the money another time. Tonight, let's just consider this a welcome-home dinner for Aria." And just like that, what was meant to be an engagement dinner became my welcome-home party. Ethan looked thoroughly pissed off. My stepfather glared at him, looking like he was about to throttle his own son for siding with these vultures. 2 It wasn't always like this between us. When my mother first divorced, I was sent to live with my father. He remarried, and every dollar spent on me became a new battleground between him and my stepmother. I scrimped and saved, but it was never enough. One day, my father, head bowed in defeat, said to me, "Aria, can you please stop causing me so much trouble?" So I moved into the school dorms, working odd jobs after class. But in high school, time was scarce, and the few dollars I earned never lasted. On hungry days, I filled my stomach with water. One day, I collapsed from chronic malnutrition. The school called my mother. She flew into a rage, calling my father every name in the book. By then, she had remarried and found herself with a rebellious teenage son. With her and her new husband busy building their business, they were exhausted by the boy's antics. That’s when they remembered me, the daughter neither parent seemed to want. They offered me living expenses in exchange for "looking after my brother." And so, I moved into the Sterling household, an outsider with a flimsy title. I was only two years older than Ethan, and at first, he refused to listen to a word I said. He'd go to an internet café for all-nighters, and I'd sit at the computer next to him, silently doing my homework. He'd try to go clubbing, and I'd grab his collar and physically block his way. After a while, he couldn't take it anymore and exploded at me. Tears streamed down my face as I screamed back, "You think I want to do this? You have parents who love you, but I don't! If it weren't for the money, I wouldn't give a damn about you!" He was just a freshman, all swagger and bravado, trying to act tough but with no real malice in his heart. Seeing me cry, he became flustered. "Hey, don't cry. I won't go, okay? Fine. From now on… I'll be the one to look after you." From that day on, I discovered my secret weapon. Whenever I cried, Ethan would become putty in my hands. His friends would tease him. "Dude, you're so whipped. You're gonna be terrified of your future wife." Ethan would just grin and shoot back, "What's it to you? You're just jealous I have a gorgeous sister." Over time, something shifted between us. I don't know who fell first. The love of youth is a fierce, untamable thing. Maybe it was because, after a lifetime of being treated as a burden, I finally tasted sweetness. Or maybe it was the way he’d always be waiting for me under the streetlight on my walk home, his voice warm as he called me "sister." Our shadows tangled together under the blazing sun, our eyes holding a raw, unfiltered affection. I don't remember who reached out first, a tentative, searching gesture. The air crackled, thick with a tantalizing, unspoken dare, stealing the very breath from our lungs and leaving our faces flushed crimson. I was utterly captivated by him. Then, one afternoon, as we were walking home from school, our fingers intertwined, I looked up and saw my mother. Her eyes were daggers. A chill shot through me, and I snatched my hand away from his. Our love was murdered in its cradle. My mother, sobbing, screamed that I was a temptress, a vixen seducing her own brother. She hit me, her nails leaving bloody tracks across my skin, her slaps leaving my face burning and red. I didn't fight back. Ethan was locked in his room. But a love worth dying for requires a courage I didn't have. After I graduated, I left without a word. I abandoned Ethan to his hunger strike, to his silent war with our parents. In that battle, I was the deserter. I applied for a working holiday visa and went to Australia alone. I worked day and night, saving enough for my entire college tuition and living expenses. The only contact I had with my mother was a brief reply to her annual birthday text. "Why did you come back?" After the welcome-home dinner, Ethan drove me back. I was in the back seat, my eyes closed. "How could I miss your wedding? You are my brother, after all. At least, in name." I said it with a playful smile. Ethan's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. He took a deep breath before finally asking, "Have you been okay all these years?" "Fantastic," I replied. "I recently opened a boba shop in Seabrook." The car screeched to a halt at a red light. "You're leaving again?" He turned to face me, his eyes intense. I smiled faintly. "Of course. This isn't my home, after all." My tone shifted. "But... your fiancée. She seems to be more in love with your money than with you, don't you think?" Ethan’s gaze was steady, his voice low. "I would give the woman I love anything she desires, as long as I have it to give." "Is that so? Then would you mind changing the woman you love?" His breath hitched. "Don't joke around... sister." His voice cracked. "You were the one who ran. We promised... we promised no one would run." He was lost in the memory, his eyes glistening. "But you left anyway." My smile vanished. "Ethan, how long has it been? Ten years?" His voice was firm. "3841 days." The number stunned me. A wave of guilt washed over me, and I had to look away. "3841 days... and you're about to get married. I'm glad. I'm glad you've moved on." He let out a hollow, absurd laugh, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. I've moved on." The silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the roar of the engine. 3 After my return, Ethan avoided the house for over a week, making sure our paths wouldn't cross. Tsk. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I couldn't let him mess with my focus. "Finally decided to come home?" my mother greeted Ethan as he walked through the door after work. She took his briefcase and guided him to the dining table. "Perfect timing. Your sister cooked. Come and try." Ethan knew my mother and his father disliked Jenna, which was why he'd never brought her home. His eyes scanned the beautifully arranged dishes on the table. He picked up a piece of meat and put it in his mouth. Suddenly, he froze, a distant look in his eyes. I chose that moment to emerge from the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a spatula. "What's wrong, little bro? It's been a while since you've had my cooking. You missed it, didn't you?" He looked at me and simply nodded, silently shoveling food into his mouth. Back when I lived with them, our parents were rarely home. I was the one who always cooked for Ethan, and I'd gotten pretty good at it. I knew he missed my food. "Eat slowly," my mother said softly from the side. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, but inside, the atmosphere was warm, almost like we had traveled back in time to the days before everything fell apart. Ethan's phone buzzed. He answered it, his brow instantly knitting into a frown. "What is it? Trouble at work?" his father asked. Ethan shook his head. "Mom, Dad... Aria. I have to go out for a bit. Jenna's working late at the office and she doesn't have an umbrella. I need to go pick her up." My mother slammed her chopsticks on the table. "That little vixen again." I knew she'd react that way. Ethan said nothing. I just went to the hall closet, pulled out an umbrella, and handed it to him. "Go on. I'm here." That's how the idealized first love should act, right? Gentle and understanding. Even if my chest was aching with a familiar, sour jealousy. It was one in the morning, and Ethan still wasn't back. I was slouched on the sofa, binge-watching a K-drama. I was long past the age of starry-eyed romance, but here I was, my heart still skipping a beat for some fictional pure love. The front door creaked open. I saw a familiar figure, completely soaked. "You're back?" I asked casually. "You had the car, how did you get so drenched?" Ethan started, clearly not expecting me to still be up. For once, he answered obediently. "Jenna said... walking home in the rain was... romantic." I snorted with laughter. There's a fine line between pure love and pure stupidity. "Go take a hot shower and get some rest." I reached for the umbrella in his hand to put it away, but a heavy weight suddenly collapsed against me. I felt the heat radiating from his body. I pressed my hand to his forehead. He was burning up. He's been this much trouble since he was a kid. I summoned all my strength to drag him onto the sofa, then wrapped him in a dry towel. The wet clothes clinging to his skin were obviously uncomfortable. I gently patted his cheek. "Wake up. Change your clothes. Dry yourself off." He was delirious with fever, but thankfully, he was compliant. Once he was settled, I prepared some medicine and held the cup to his lips. "Drink this. I'll leave after you finish. Then you go to your room, okay?" At my words, his rebellious streak resurfaced. He grabbed my wrist, his eyes wide and glassy. "Don't go." I couldn't pull away. "I'm not going far, I'm just going to my room to sleep." He started murmuring, lost in his fever dream. "Aria, don't go. Don't leave me. Don't abandon me. How could you abandon me?" A sudden sting pricked my nose. I leaned in and gently hugged him, patting his back. "I won't leave you again, Ethan." How could I ever bear to leave him? But back then... if he had come with me... I had nothing to offer. That night, the cold, distant Ethan from the daytime vanished, replaced by a vulnerable boy who cried and clung to me, his obedience almost painfully sweet. By the time his fever finally broke, dawn was streaking the sky. I had fallen asleep slumped over the edge of the sofa. When I woke up, I was in my bed. Ethan was gone, having woken up sometime earlier and slipped away. He was probably mortified by his behavior last night. I smiled to myself. Looks like the fire I've started isn't burning hot enough just yet. 4 The next day, Ethan acted as if nothing had happened. He coolly informed my mother that Jenna wanted to try on wedding dresses that afternoon. My mother gave me a little push. "Aria should go too. To help you two decide." Ethan’s gaze flickered towards me, dark and unreadable. I forced myself to stand, offering a dry laugh. "Oh, right. I should go get some ideas. Might be useful when I get married someday." "You'd look beautiful in a wedding dress, Aria," Ethan said, his voice flat. "I wonder who'll be the lucky guy to marry you." He turned and left. I exchanged a look with my mother. Oh yes, the air was thick with jealousy. At the bridal boutique, Jenna waved excitedly at Ethan. Her face fell the moment she saw me. "Aria? Why are you here?" I waved back, my expression perfectly innocent. "My mom sent me. To help you two choose." Jenna shot me a glare, but I simply linked my arm through Ethan’s, acting as if we were the ones getting married. A ghost of a smile played on Ethan's lips. "Let's go." Jenna hurried to keep up. She had the consultant bring out the dress she'd reserved and twirled for Ethan. "Do you like it?" she cooed. He nodded, and she beamed, taking the dress into the fitting room. "Aren't you going to try one on?" Ethan asked, looking at me. Before I could answer, he motioned for a consultant, who returned with a dress and placed it in my arms. It was a long, elegant fishtail gown. "Go on," he said, his voice low. "Try it on." Holding the dress, I was thrown back in time. I saw myself as a teenager, my hair in a high ponytail, pointing excitedly at a fishtail dress in a shop window. "When I get married," I'd told him with a laugh, "I want to wear a dress like that. It's like it was made for a mermaid." When the curtain was drawn back, Jenna was already posing, having the consultant snap photos of her. Ethan had changed into a suit. As he came out, I stepped forward and instinctively straightened his collar. His eyes found mine and held them. For a moment, we were locked in our own world, a teenage dream finally realized in a way we never could have imagined. The consultant walked over, beaming. "You two look absolutely perfect together! Such a handsome couple. Let me take a picture for you." Jenna rushed over, grabbing Ethan's arm and shattering the moment. "I'm his fiancée," she snapped. The consultant stammered an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry, my mistake." Fuming, Jenna said, "Let's go, Ethan. We're not getting our photos done at this shop." I leaned towards the consultant and whispered, "Sorry about that. We're not a couple. But maybe when I do get married, I'll come back and have you take my pictures." Jenna saw that Ethan's gaze was still fixed on me. She let out a sudden gasp and crouched down, pretending to rub a sore ankle. "Ethan, honey, my foot hurts. Carry me." That finally broke his trance. He moved to pick her up, but as he did, he looked back over his shoulder, his eyes boring into mine. I chuckled under my breath. "Tsk, what a player." But I knew, deep down, I had an advantage she never would. I was the one he truly loved. It was only a matter of time.
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