Brother’s Love-Crazed, I’ll Seize the Company

I was born to be the center of attention. Growing up as the daughter of a wealthy family, I had loved the spotlight for as long as I could remember. A single compliment from a senior at a family gathering could make my day. Unfortunately, fate had saddled me with an older brother who was almost offensively perfect. Dominic Sterling attended Kingsley University at 10 and became a vice president at Sterling Group at 18. He beat me at everything and reduced me to a supporting character in the story of his success. Then one day, he brought home a reckless woman, who never thought before she acted, and turned into a love-addled fool. At a family banquet, several distant cousins hid in a corner and snickered about me. "What's the point of Camille trying so hard? Dominic will be the head of the family anyway. Does she really think she can beat him?" Later, as I crossed the garden, I heard Dominic coaxing the same woman. "Bella, once I take over the family business, I'll give you Sterling Group as a gift." My nails dug into my palms as I narrowed my eyes at Dominic, wondering how he could be such an i***t. 'So he plans to use the family empire as a proposal gift? Fine. Then I'll take his place as heir.' ***** Sterling Group was an empire my father had built from the ground up. So why should Dominic get to wield it just to impress a woman? I had always been eager to come first. At 12, I could already read the company's financial and tax records. At 17, I helped secure a partnership worth 20 million dollars, just to hear the longtime shareholders pound the table and declare that Ms. Sterling had been born for business. Being the center of attention was addictive. The problem was that Dominic was 3 years older and had been treated as the Sterling heir since the day he was born. His intelligence was frightening. Even seasoned financiers in the Crownridge Financial District called him a genius. My whole week's work—and he'd find three flaws with one glance. My three months' effort—and Dominic would seal it with one phone call. I had swallowed that frustration for 18 years. "Ms. Sterling, there you are." The voice behind me made me jump. I turned and saw Graham Mills, my father's executive assistant. He held a red folder and looked conflicted, as though he had something to say but couldn't bring himself to say it. I immediately straightened, smoothed my suit, and lifted my chin. "I came out for some air." Graham didn't ask any questions. He inclined his head and said, "The Chairman would like to see you and Dominic in the executive boardroom." I gave a quiet huff and walked past him toward the elevators. My father sat at the head of the table in the executive boardroom, his expression thunderous. Several reports lay scattered across the table. The Varelia warehouse project was in trouble, and a funding shortfall of 94 million dollars remained unresolved. The project had been Dominic's responsibility. Instead of dealing with it, he had left the entire mess to the International Operations Division so he could take Isabella Crane to Nordland to see the northern lights. "Dominic, do you have anything to say?" my father asked in an icy voice. Dominic rose without the slightest sign of panic, his back perfectly straight. "Dad, the Group's international brand strategy matters more than a problem with one isolated project." He launched into a polished explanation, moving smoothly from the global supply chain to taking Sterling brands overseas. Every point flowed seamlessly into the next. As I listened from across the table, I had to admit that his mind was extraordinary. He had skipped work to chase his girlfriend, yet within minutes, he had repackaged the trip as a strategic market visit. Several board members who had been ready to hold him accountable were left with no clear response. My father's frown eased slightly. Then Dominic changed tack and looked at me. "Camille thinks quickly on her feet. Why not let her take over the rest of the Varelia project and gain some experience?" I nearly crushed the glass in my hand. 'That bastard! He made this mess, wriggled out of it, and dumped the s**t straight into my lap.' The overseas projects were tangled up with local partners and government officials. Anyone who took them on risked getting mired in local politics and business disputes. I was about to refuse when Dominic added, "What's wrong? Scared?" He had worn that same smug expression every time he beat me since childhood. I wanted to throw my water in his face, but my competitive streak flared before I could stop myself. "Me? Scared?" I leaned forward, my voice crisp and confident. "Give me 3 months. I'll clean up the Varelia mess." Dominic nodded as if I had given the answer he expected. I was furious, but I still had to keep a polished smile on my face. My father looked from Dominic to me. He didn't agree immediately, but I saw the disappointment in his eyes when his gaze returned to Dominic. Nothing weakened an heir's position faster than indifference. Dominic might have been brilliant, but his careless attitude had crossed the one line my father wouldn't forgive. "Go ahead," my father finally said with a wave of his hand. Outside the boardroom, Dominic walked ahead and pressed the elevator button. "Camille, don't work yourself too hard. If you run into anything you can't handle, you can always come to me." He smiled at me as the elevator doors closed. I clenched my fists. 'Just you wait, Dominic.'