Sinful Obsession: My Billionaire Stepbrother

Faking Niceness

William stepped out of his car in his glory.

The second his polished leather shoes hit the pavement, the entire campus seemed to freeze. It was like a vacuum had sucked all the oxygen out of the quad, leaving everyone breathless.

"Is that… no way. Is that William Sterling?"

The whisper rippled through a nearby group of girls, their mouths hanging open.

"The billionaire? Why is he here? Who is the girl? Did he just drop her off? Look at her… she’s wearing a pink sweater. Is she his girlfriend?"

I stood frozen on the stone steps, my fingers digging into the strap of my handbag until my knuckles turned white.

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

I felt like a bug under a microscope.

But William didn't look bothered at all. He looked like he was thriving in the spotlight. He smoothed the front of his suit jacket, the sunlight catching his expensive watch, making him look like he had stepped straight off a billboard.

Then, he did something that made my heart stop. He smiled.

It wasn't the cold, sharp smirk he gave me behind closed doors. It was a warm, dazzling, perfect gentleman smile that reached his eyes.

He walked toward me, his stride slow and deliberate, making every girl in a fifty-yard radius sigh.

"Isabel," he called out. His voice was smooth as silk and just loud enough for the growing crowd to hear.

I turned, forcing my eyes to meet his. He stopped just a foot away from me, close enough that I could smell that expensive cologne scent of his. He reached out and tucked a stray lock of my hair behind my ear.

His touch was light, but it felt like a spark of electricity spread through my entire body.

"You forgot to say goodbye," he said, his voice dropped into a tender, intimate tone that was a total lie.

"Have a great first day, okay? Study hard."

I stared at him, my eyes wide with shock and pure fury. My brain was screaming,

'Who are you and what have you done with the jerk who just told me he didn't want me in his house?'

I opened my mouth to say something, to call him out on this ridiculous act, but the words wouldn't come. I was paralyzed by the sheer unfairness of it.

"See you this evening," he added, giving my shoulder a gentle, lingering squeeze that felt way too much like a brand.

Without another word, he turned on his heel, flashed one last charming look at the stunned crowd, and slid back into his SUV.

The engine roared to life, and he drove away, leaving me standing there in a cloud of exhaust and the burning stares of hundreds of strangers.

*

I didn't wait around for questions. I turned and bolted into the Law Building, my face flushing a deep, angry red. 'He’s a psycho,'I thought, my chest heaving as I navigated the marble hallways. 'A total, manipulative psycho.' He wanted everyone to think he was the sweet, supportive brother, while in reality, he could barely stand to look at me.

He was playing with my life like a game of chess!

I followed the signs for the Orientation Hall, my sandals clicking sharply against the floor as I moved fuming under my breath. I just wanted to disappear into a sea of notebooks and highlighters where no one knew my name.

I found the massive auditorium and scanned the rows, finding an empty seat toward the middle. I sat down quickly and pulled out my laptop, keeping my head down. I prayed that if I looked busy enough, no one would notice me.

But I wasn't that lucky.

I had barely opened my notebook when the air around me shifted. I didn't even have to look up to know I was being watched.

"So," a sharp voice drawled from the row behind me. "Is it true?"

I stiffened but didn't look back. I tried to focus on the "Welcome Students" slide on the projector screen, my hands trembling.

"I'm talking to you, Pink Sweater."

I let out a shaky breath and slowly turned around.

Standing there were four girls who looked like they had just stepped off a private jet.

They were decked out in designer wears, Chanel bags, Cartier bracelets, and hair that looked like it cost more than my savings.

They didn't look like students at all.

The girl in the center, a tall brunette with sharp eyeliner, leaned forward. She raked her eyes over me, starting at my messy waves and ending at my pink sweater.

Her lip curled in a way that made me feel like I was wearing a garbage bag.

"We saw the car," she said, her voice dripping with fake curiosity. "And we saw William Sterling. Everyone knows William doesn't do ordinary friends, and he certainly doesn't do charity cases. So, how are you related to him?"

"I'm his... it's complicated," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing the truth—that I was just the daughter of the woman his father married.

"We live in the same house for the time being."

The girls exchanged looks of pure, poisonous jealousy. One of them, a blonde with a massive diamond ring, let out a harsh laugh.

"You live with him? In the Sterling mansion? Please." She leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing into slits.

"Look at your clothes. That sweater is probably from a mall, and your jeans aren't even designer. William is on the front page of Vogue this month. He’s the most lusted-after man in the country. Why would a guy like him even know a plain girl like you exists?"

"Maybe he has a thing for the help?" the third girl whispered, loud enough for me to hear.

The brunette stepped closer, invading my personal space.

"Listen, honey. We’ve spent our whole lives in the same circles as the Sterlings. We go to the same galas, the same country clubs. We’ve all had crushes on William since we were kids. And then you show up, looking like... that, and he’s acting all sweet to you in public?"

She reached out and flicked the collar of my sweater with a manicured nail.

"Stay in your lane, whoever you are," she hissed, her voice dripping with mean warning.

"A girl like you doesn't belong in a car like that, and you definitely don't belong in his world. If you think a ride to school makes you special, you're even stupider than you look."