The Fake Heiress Had Me Killed

Chapter 2 His Gentleness

"Mom!" The word burst out before I could stop myself. "I didn't mean..."

Sierra peeked in, beaming as she cut me off, "Maisie, were you about to congratulate me too? Thanks! Oh, Mom, my party dress is too tight, come help me fix it?"

"You're such a handful," Mom sighed, but she followed her downstairs without hesitation.

The words died in my throat.

Past midnight, Harrison shoved my door open, clutching a new tube of pain cream. His frown deepened when he saw my tear-streaked face. "Moping around like a ghost again? Maisie, when will you quit this pathetic act?"

I said nothing, just stared at this man who shared my blood. My own brother. The one who'd broken my body and was now drowning me in lies.

My glare made him shift uncomfortably, his face darkening. "What? You think I owe you? Without me, you'd be out on the streets!"

He flung the tube at me, his voice laced with pity. "Here. Stop whining to Mom and Dad. You're lucky they tolerate you at all."

I snatched it and chucked it at his chest with a thud. "Get out!"

Harrison froze. His jaw slackened—since when did I fight back?

Then his rage exploded. In a flash, he hauled me up by my collar. "The hell's wrong with you? A crippled deadweight like you, acting all high and mighty?"

The same cruel eyes from when he'd abandoned twelve-year-old me. Terror clawed up my throat. I trembled violently, reduced to a whimpering mess. "Harrison... I'm sorry... please..."

Snot and tears streaked my face like a kicked puppy's. Only then did his anger fade, replaced with a look that made me feel smaller than dirt. His grip loosened, and I crashed to the floor with a heavy thud, white-hot pain lancing through my ankle.

"That's more like it."

He glared down at me, eyes brimming with impatience. "Maisie, just accept your damn fate. You're finished. But Sierra? She's better than you, smarter, sweeter, everything Mom and Dad ever wished for. They love her. She's the one who brings them joy."

"Everything I do is for this family," he continued. "Keep your head down and stay out of trouble."

Then, abruptly, his tone softened, laced with a hint of coaxing. "I know you've been cooped up in here. Tomorrow, I'll take you out. How about we go see the ocean?"

I froze, my breath hitching. The ocean? I hadn't stepped foot outside this villa since the accident.

"It's been too long since we talked properly, just us."

A flicker of guilt, rare and uncharacteristic, crossed his face. "Call it an apology. Give me a chance to make it right."

He crouched down, picking up the ointment and unscrewing the cap with deliberate care as he moved to apply it.

That gentleness became the same warmth that once lit up my childhood.