He Only Wanted His Foster Sister, Yet Burned For Me Instead Chapter 10

He Only Wanted His Foster Sister, Yet Burned For Me Instead Chapter 10

A few nights later.

Hilary rolled up to my place with a massive entourage of her little rich-girl friends. She scanned the damp, mnoldy walls and the leaking ceiling, a look of blatant, smug satisfaction plastering her face.

“Maeve, aren’t you completely desperate for cash? Why don’t you just put yourself on the market?”

With a nasty smile, she hurled a thick stack of flyers right at me. They scattered all over the floor, stamped with my face and my name.

Escort. Companion. Rates negotiable.

I picked up the flyers, piece by piece, gathering them into a neat stack. Then, I looked up and met

her gaze with pure, unadulterated pity.

“Hilary, if bullying me is the only thing that makes your pathetic, hollow soul feel better, go right

ahead. But let’s look at the facts. I got a perfect score on my SATs, meaning I have a guaranteed Early Decision slot at Crestwood University.”

“You, on the other hand? Your grades are tragic, your temper is toxic-do you seriously think your family can bankroll your useless existence forever?”

I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “As far as I know, the Chairman of Sterling Group-your father-didn’t actually fly out of the country on a business trip. He’s critically ill, currently rotting in a private hospital wing, isn’t he?”

That final strike hit exactly where it hurt. Hilary lost it entirely. She delivered two vicious slaps across my face, spun around on her designer heels, and stormed out in a blind rage.

Once the door slammed shut, I pulled out my phone and I logged back into Hilary’s burner Instagram account and shot Tristan a DMto her secondary online account.

Tristan’s messages flooded the screen, one after another:

[I got the tattoo removed. (Abs_Photo.jpg)]

[I didn’t know what kind of food you liked, so I watched a bunch of cooking videos and learned how

to make all the standard American and continental dishes.]

Attached were several photos of meticulously prepared gourmet meals-flawless presentation, looking absolutely mouthwatering.

[It’s been two days. Why haven’t you reached out to me?)

[I’m sorry. I should be the one taking the initiative. Can I come find you? Please?]

[Why aren’t you replying to my texts?]

[I remember… you mentioned you liked my legs? (Leg_Photos_x3.jpg)]

[I went to the coffee shop where you worked. They told me you quit.]

[I never realized Aventine City was this massive… I never realized how little I actually know about

you.]

[Please talk to me… Master. (Puppy_Leash_Meme.jpg)]

The chat history paused there; Tristan hadn’t sent anything else for forty-eight hours. But a split

second later, a brand-new notification flashed across the screen.

Tristan suddenly asked:

[Maeve, where are you planning to submit your college applications?]

[Come to my school. Let’s be together, okay?]

[I’ve been through the admissions process before. Send me your portal username and password,

and I’ll fill out the enrollment documents for you.]

The streaming chat scrolled by at a frantic pace:

[Oh God, I remember this plot point! The male lead alters her application passwords to get revenge,

changing her top-tier university choices to some unaccredited, bottom-of-the-barrel private

college in the middle of nowhere.]

[That’s enough, second female lead. My heart is literally breaking for you right now.)

[Wait, is that actually the male lead typing? Why does this feel incredibly off to me?]

[Even a bitter enemy would feel bad for her at this point. I’m actually feeling so much sympathy for

her. Do not send it! Whatever you do, DO NOT SEND THE PASSWORDS!!!]

My lips curled into a cold smile.

I tapped the keyboard, typing out two words: [Sure, honey.]

You finally took the bait, Hilary Sterling. I merely dragged a few unvarnished facts into the light, and you were already too unhinged to contain yourself.