He Only Wanted His Foster Sister, Yet Burned For Me Instead Chapter 04

He Only Wanted His Foster Sister, Yet Burned For Me Instead Chapter 04

It was eleven-thirty in the morning. I had changed into another outfit—still deliberately plain, slightly tragic—and arrived early at the Sterling estate.

The Sterling parents were chronic workaholics, so this mansion was essentially just a place for the siblings to live while attending school; their parents rarely set foot here.

Tristan was the only one home.

The exact second our eyes locked, God knows what flashed through his mind. A violent crimson surge raced instantly from his collarbone all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Tristan, what’s wrong?”

I forced my features into the submissive, eager-to-please smile I always wore around the Sterlings.

“Hilary’s bringing her boyfriend over soon, right? Is lunch ready? I can help out in the kitchen. I’m always the one picking up her takeout or making her late-night snacks, so I know exactly what she likes and what she’s allergic to.”

He clearly hadn’t expected me to mask up so effortlessly. It was as if last night had never happened, as if he were still just a distant, polite older brother figure to me.

Tristan stood completely paralyzed for a full thirty seconds.

“You…”

Snapping back to reality, he forced out a stiff, rigid reply: “No need. I’ve taken care of everything.”

[Omg omg, Beef Wellington, roasted asparagus, and glazed pork ribs—the whole table is literally packed with the female lead’s absolute favorites!]

[Is this the power of a brooding older man? He was clearly dying of pure jealousy after hearing she was bringing a boyfriend home, yet he still stood in the kitchen with a stone face and whipped up an eight-course meal with two gourmet soups.]

[She’s here, she’s here! Damn, why is the second male lead this fine? He’s giving total shameless, hedonistic playboy energy. The male lead’s threat levels must be breaking the charts right now.]

The guy Hilary dragged through the door was Julian Vance, the younger son of the prominent Vance family and a freshman at Crestwood University.

Hilary hooked her arm through mine, dragging me toward the dining table.

“I heard my big brother went to a real-life meetup last night too,” she mused, her eyes darting between us.

“Don’t tell me your mystery e-girl was actually Maeve? Wow, what a crazy coincidence. My best friend turning into my sister-in-law? We could totally go on double dates from now on.”

Both siblings knew the absolute truth—that they had been online-dating each other the entire time.

Yet one refused to acknowledge it out of a desperate, moral restriction, while the other simply relished the toxic thrill of the ambiguity, refusing to tear down the veil.

In that case, they could hardly blame me for slipping into the cracks and breaking Tristan in like a dog.

“No,” I said, adjusting my glasses and letting out a meek, timid murmur. “Hilary, you’ve got it wrong. Tristan and I… it didn’t work out. He doesn’t like me. Once lunch is over, we won’t have anything to do with each other ever again.”

Tristan wanted to keep our relationship buried from Hilary, so I gave him exactly what he wanted. Besides, I had zero intention of dating him anyway. To me, he was nothing more than a private toy I wanted to lock away in a cage.

I had denied it with such ruthless certainty that Tristan should have been relieved. Instead, his lips pressed into a hard, straight line, and he made no effort to back up my story.

“Oh… so that’s how it is.”

Hilary had clearly anticipated this answer, and her mood instantly skyrocketed.

She pressed further, testing the waters: “I mean, obviously my brother’s standards wouldn’t be that tragic… But you guys booked a king-sized room, didn’t you? How exactly did you sleep last night?”

“I was planning on leaving, but Tristan was incredibly protective,” I offered meekly. “He said it wasn’t safe for a girl to travel alone in the dead of night, so he ended up sleeping on the floor.”

Tristan really had been protective. Back in the hotel bathroom, when he pinned me in front of the vanity mirror, he had been so terrified of the cold marble chilling my skin that he had lined the entire counter with plush towels before lifting me up.

Hilary completely relaxed.

“It’s fine, Maeve. Don’t be too discouraged. When I get married down the line, I can always take you with me. Didn’t wealthy families back in the day have personal maids who shared the husband?”

“You can just do that for me. It’s not like you aren’t used to waiting on me hand and foot anyway.”

I had long since grown entirely numb to her casual humiliations.

Tristan’s knuckles turned white around his silver fork. “Hilary, you’ve gone too far,” he snapped, his voice tight. Then, as if desperate to overcompensate and hide his tracks, he added: “Maeve… is your best friend. You shouldn’t be so disrespectful to her.”

I kept my head down, mechanically cutting into my food as a heavy, thrilling shudder rippled through my entire body.

Right then and there, I truly tasted the addictive charm of a protective older man. Even though he utterly despised my vicious behavior, he still couldn’t stop himself from cutting in the second someone tried to put me down.

It really… made me want to ruin him entirely.