He Only Wanted His Foster Sister, Yet Burned For Me Instead Chapter 13

He Only Wanted His Foster Sister, Yet Burned For Me Instead Chapter 13

Hot tears splashed onto my neck.

Tristan leaned down, pressing a slow, heavy kiss onto my forehead. He held me with a sudden,

fierce reverence, as if treating a priceless masterpiece.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He lost count of how many times he had apologized that day. “You must have endured so much agony to survive until today.”

“It was fine,” I replied, my voice entirely flat and dismissive. “It’s all in the past, and it’s all been

dealt with.”

For over a decade, the Sterling family had used adoption as a front to cherry-pick young children from the orphanage to serve as a private, standby blood bank.

Tristan had been one of them. Fortunately, his natural intelligence was off the charts; he mastered everything effortlessly, which was the only reason they chose to groom him as an elite asset instead of bleeding him dry immediately.

Tristan’s blood type and bone marrow matched the Sterling patriarch and Hilary perfectly.

The family had fully intended to raise him as the ultimate, walking blood bank-someone who would bleed his youth out for their corporation and gladly sacrifice his own life to preserve a Sterling when the time came.

Hilary had known the truth the entire time. That was the real reason she chose to date Tristan behind a screen rather than openly confessing her feelings; she knew her father would never allow his daughter to catch real feelings for a mere utility tool.

I built a social media account from scratch. While debunking the explicit, defamatory rumors Hilary had spread about me, Tristan and I co-published a massive exposé detailing how the Sterling Group systematically exploited and endangered orphaned children.

When the police stormed the private hospital wing to execute the arrest, they caught the Sterling patriarch flat on his back in his medical suite. Right next to his bed sat a little girl who had just been drained of her blood-pale, shivering, and clinging to her last breath.

The evidence was monumental, leaving zero room for denial. The Sterling Group was investigated inside out until it completely collapsed.

Hilary’s desperate delusion that her parents would pull a few strings to bail her out vanished into

thin air.

Once his memories were fully restored, Tristan went from an untamed, feral stray into a

thoroughly broken-in, loyal hound. I took a part-time gig at a local barbecue joint, and despite his severe germaphobia, he would happily sit in his car for an hour just to drive me home after my shift closed.

When my period cramps hit, a thick layer of anxious sweat would break out across his forehead as he rubbed his palms together to warm them up, gently massaging my stomach for hours.

Tristan told me he wanted to raise me all over again, the right way.

“I’m not that fragile,” I said, tossing a set of suggestive little silk lingerie right at his face. “And you don’t need to use the gentle older-brother routine on me. Just put this on tonight and make your master happy.”

When night fell, I straddled his lap, sinking my teeth into his firm chest with venomous force.

“How exactly should I punish a bad, dirty dog?” I whispered against his skin.

We both knew exactly what I was referring to-his history of online-dating Hilary. Even if it was strictly emotional cheating[], I still minded immensely.

Tristan let out a low, bitter chuckle, his hands gently gripping my hips. “Maeve, you might find this hard to believe… but ever since the Sterlings took me in, I felt like a machine programmed with a rigid code.

Whatever Hilary demanded, my body simply executed. Everyone around me constantly reinforced

the idea that I had to devote myself to her, so for the longest time, I couldn’t tell if it was real

affection or just an engineered habit.”

“Until the night of the meetup, when you violently shattered that programming.”

“At first, I thought my physical reaction was just the drug running through my veins,” he

murmured, his eyes fixed entirely on me. “But the next day, when you pinned me against the bedroom wall and slapped me… I was completely lucid, and my heart rate went off the charts.

From the initial panic, to the overwhelming sense of familiarity, to absolute surrender… it only

took me forty-eight hours.”

I remained entirely unmoved, my voice cool and flat as I stated a fact: “You two did explicit video

calls.”

Tristan’s ears turned a vibrant, burning crimson. “She forced those calls on me. She was furious, because I had zero physical reaction to her, so she literally drugged me to force a response.”

He looked up at me, his gaze pleading and raw. “Except for you… I have never been able to perform for anyone else.”

“Fine. You’re forgiven.”

I crooked my finger at him, a dangerous smile spreading across my lips. “Come here, good boy. Master is going to give you your reward.”

By the time the hands of the clock on the wall had spun around two and a half times, my entire body was completely spent, my fingers too weak to even lift themselves from the sheets.

Yet, Tristan showed zero intention of slowing down.

His massive palms locked around my waist, his rich, gravelly voice pressing right against my ear:

“The reward isn’t finished yet, Master. Why are you giving up so soon?”

“Why are you staying so quiet? Does my little sister Maeve feel uncomfortable somewhere?”

His transition into the protective older-brother persona was completely seamless, his eyes dark

with unbridled desire:

“Don’t worry. Big brother will give you a thorough medical check… Here? Or right here?”

A violent jolt of thrill and panic shot through my spine. The sheer endurance of an romance-novel male lead was completely terrifying!

The only benefit of Tristan’s high drive was that I no longer had to suppress a single fraction of my twisted, possessive fixation on him. He devoured every bit of it, relishing the ruin infinitely more

than I did.

A month later, at our alma mater’s graduation ceremony.

As an elite student guaranteed early admission to a top-tier university, I was invited onto the stage to deliver a speech. For the first time in my life, I left my heavy glasses off.

My blunt bangs were swept back, revealing a clean, striking forehead.

The total collapse and seizure of the Sterling Group had been dominating the headlines for weeks,

drawing a massive crowd of press and reporters to the campus. From the second I stepped up, the camera flashes didn’t stop for a single second.

The floating live chat erupted in pure celebration:

[She is drop-dead gorgeous, ahhhh! No one told me the black-rimmed glasses were literally a seal keeping her true visuals locked away!]

[Does anyone else see it? Her features are incredibly high-fashion, and that flat, indifferent expression on her face…. my inner masochist is screaming. I would literally let her hit me with a

crop.]

[Maeve is the true definition of a main character. She started the game with an absolute dumpster-fire of an opening and still forced her way into Crestwood University.]

The second I stepped off the stage, an uninvited guest blocked my path.

Julian Vance stood there, his bedroom eyes curving into an amused smile, a silver diamond stud catching the bright light on his left ear.

“I finally tracked you down, Maeve,” he murmured, stepping closer. “Why haven’t you accepted my request?”

I sidestepped him immediately, putting deliberate physical distance between us. “Why on earth would I add you?”

“I honestly love that about you–the way you look at me like I’m absolute garbage.” His shameless, hedonistic playboy energy practically rolled off him in waves. “Can I take you out?”

“She has a boyfriend.”

Tristan had been waiting for me beneath the shade of the willow trees. The exact second he caught

sight of Julian, his internal alarms went off completely.

He crossed the distance in a heartbeat, his face ice-cold as he shoved his broad shoulders between

me and the intruder.

“I don’t mind a boyfriend,” Julian offered, shoving his hands into his pockets and tilting his head to

look past Tristan right at me. “I can totally be your dog, Maeve. No strings attached, no title

needed.”

Then, his eyes narrowed with a sudden, dark interest. “Hey, Maeve… would you ever consider putting on a schoolteacher uniform and slapping me?”

…Huh?

Julian babbled on, entirely unbothered by Tristan’s escalating fury: “You know the vibe-crisp white blouse, black thigh-high stockings, holding a pointer, maybe a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. The ultimate hot-nerd aesthetic. Literally my dream type…”

The veins on Tristan’s forehead bulged violently. He grabbed Julian by his designer collar and hauled him roughly back.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Tristan threw him aside, turned around, and leaned down until his lips were brushing against my ear, his voice dropping into a harsh, tight whisper: “Don’t look at him. He’s a total freak[ 确].”’

“What am I supposed to do, then?” I teased, intentionally pushing his buttons. “I’ve always had a weakness for freaks.”

Tristan’s grip tightened around my hand, his voice falling into a low, dangerously raspy rumble:

“Am I not enough of a freak for you, Master? I promise… I only ever save that[] side for you.”