I woke up inside a novel as the male lead’s high-maintenance, "evil" stepsister. According to the plot, I’m supposed to torment him, humiliate him, and eventually get shipped off to a desolate island to rot. Hard pass. Faced with the brooding, cold-eyed teenager in front of me, I told the butler to give him the room furthest away from mine. My strategy: minimal contact, zero bullying. Fast forward a few years. That boy grew up to be a ruthless, cutthroat CEO. One night, he walked out in the middle of a high-profile gala. Reporters chased him down. "Mr. Sterling," they asked, "where are you going in such a hurry?" He didn't break his stride. "It’s raining. My sister is wearing twenty-thousand-dollar soles. They can't touch water. I have to carry her home." "But hasn't your sister just gotten engaged?" a reporter pressed. He scoffed, cold as ice. "Not everyone is qualified to be my sister's slave." 01 When my dad brought Caleb Sterling home, I had just finished my morning latte. The seventeen-year-old boy stood there in jeans that had been washed almost white and a faded Hanes t-shirt, clutching a backpack strap. He looked awkward as hell. "Hi, Sis." Looking at this handsome, aloof kid, I realized the plot had officially begun. I’ve been in this book for two years. The main character is Caleb. I’m Mia, his bratty older sister, currently a senior in college. In the original story, I’m supposed to go full "Mean Girls" on him—insult him, prank him, make his life a living hell. Then, once he takes over the family empire, he settles the score. I end up exiled to some rock in the middle of the ocean with no Wi-Fi. "Mia, Caleb is your long-lost brother. You need to get along," my dad said, checking his Rolex. "I have to fly to London for business. I’ll be gone a month. Caleb is your responsibility." I looked the kid over. Sharp features, cold expression, way too skinny. But his eyes were deep—like he was already plotting five steps ahead. Worthy of a protagonist. Even at this age, he knew how to hide his cards. I nodded at him. "Welcome." 02 When I sent someone to take him to breakfast, I pulled our butler, Arthur, aside. "Put him in the room furthest from mine. The one in the West Wing." I’m not the type to suck up to people, even the main character. If I can’t mess with him, I’ll just stay out of his blast radius. Arthur, who had been with the family since my mom married in, looked worried. "Miss Mia, the young master’s background is... murky. The boss looked for him for years with no luck, and suddenly he just appears? You should be careful. Don't be too trusting." Arthur was loyal to a fault. In the original book, he helped me torment Caleb and got purged right alongside me. "I know, Arthur. Just do what Dad said. I know what I’m doing." Arthur nodded, but as he led Caleb upstairs, I heard him spinning the narrative. "This is the only room in the house with a dedicated gaming setup," Arthur lied smoothly. "Miss Mia specifically requested you have it." Caleb’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he nodded obediently. "Please thank my sister for me." Watching them disappear around the corner, I put down my magazine and rubbed my temples. Can I really dodge this plot armor? 03 Just like in the book, Caleb was quiet. Invisible, almost. I was busy launching my jewelry design startup with my friends, spending my days at the studio and nights at my downtown apartment. We barely saw each other. Two weeks later, I was driving back to the office after lunch when I saw a familiar figure. It was Caleb. Same faded t-shirt, same jeans. He was standing on a street corner under the brutal midday sun, handing out flyers. He looked like a strong breeze would knock him over. I called Arthur. Turns out, my dad is trash. He’s busy with work and his new mistress. He brought Caleb home and immediately forgot about him. Arthur had been away visiting family, and the other staff, seeing the boss didn't care, treated Caleb like air. If this kept up, Caleb’s "villain origin story" would proceed as scheduled, and I’d still end up on that island. I told my driver to turn around. I pulled up to the curb and told Caleb to get in. He was pale, sweating buckets, sitting on the edge of the leather seat like he was afraid of dirtying it. His back was ramrod straight. "Why are you working a gig like this? You need cash?" He bit his lip and shook his head. "Just bored." Bored? You’re trying to set a record for heatstroke? I sighed internally. Avoiding the protagonist wasn't going to work. I had to intervene. "Driver," I said. "To the mall." 04 I fed him lunch, then dragged him into a high-end boutique. The staff swarmed me instantly. "Miss Sterling! You look gorgeous today!" "We have new arrivals sent over from Paris!" I pointed a manicured finger at Caleb, who was being ignored in the corner. "That’s my brother. Get him fitted." The vibe shifted instantly. "Brother?" Their brains short-circuited for a second, but money is money. They rushed over to him. Caleb looked at me, overwhelmed. I lifted my chin. "Go on. Pick whatever you like." While he was in the fitting room, I lounged in the VIP suite, sipping sparkling water and picking out a few pieces for myself. Thirty minutes later, Caleb came out holding a single shopping bag. "Just one?" I asked. He nodded, gripping the handle. "I just need a change of clothes." He lowered his voice, mumbling, "It's too expensive." I looked at the sales associate behind him. "Wrap up everything that fit him." The associate beamed. "Right away, Miss Sterling!" Caleb looked at me, totally confused. I raised an eyebrow. "A Sterling doesn't walk around without decent clothes." Caleb looked down. "Thank you, Sis." I stared at him. Right now, he was just a kid. A really polite, easy-to-bully kid. "Don't mention it."
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