Sinful Obsession: My Billionaire Stepbrother

The Mean Maid

Sunlight poked through the curtains the next morning, but it felt like needles pressing into my eyes.

My head was thumping with a rhythm that matched the dull ache in my bones, and every time I tried to swallow, it felt like I was gulping down broken glass.

I tried to sit up, but my world spun in a dizzying circle of cream-colored walls and expensive furniture. I was shivering, even though my skin felt like it was on fire. The clock on the bedside table read 9:00 AM.

"Oh no," I croaked, my voice sounding like a rusted gate. "University..."

Today was my first day of classes. My dream of starting fresh at a top-tier London school was supposed to begin today, but my body had other plans.

The cold rain and the long walk in the dark had finally caught up with me.

A soft knock at the door made me jump, and then it swung open.

My mom and Arthur walked in, still dressed in their elegant clothes from the night before, looking like they had just stepped off a private jet.

"Isabel? Honey, you aren't even dressed yet," Mom said, her brow furrowing with worry as she walked toward the bed.

She pressed her hand to my forehead and gasped. "Arthur, she’s burning up!"

Arthur stepped forward, his presence filling the room, he looked genuinely concerned.

"What happened, Isabel? Did you get caught in that storm last night?"

I looked at them, my mind raced through the fog of my fever.

I could see William’s smirk in the hallway. I could hear him telling me to get out of the car.

If I told Arthur the truth, that his son had abandoned me on a dark road in the middle of a downpour, it would start a disagreement in this house, and I was too tired for a quarrel.

"I... I just got caught in the rain," I whispered, pulling the duvet tighter around my chin.

"I forgot my umbrella and couldn't find a taxi for a while. It was my own fault. I stayed late at the office to finish some work."

Mom exchanged a look with Arthur.

"You work too hard, you must remember you're just a girl before you start getting grey hairs overnight," she sighed, smoothing my hair back.

She tucked the blankets around me, doting on me the way she used to when I was ten.

Arthur stayed by the foot of the bed, his expression thoughtful. "The Greenfield Project is a massive undertaking, but it shouldn't cost you your health.”

He reached out and patted my foot through the covers. "Don't worry about the university today. I’ll have my assistant call the dean and let them know you’re ill."

"Thank you, Arthur," I said, feeling a lump in my throat that wasn't just from the flu.

"I’ll be right back," Arthur said, heading for the door. "I believe there’s a specific box of Swiss chocolates in the library that cures everything from a cold to a broken heart. I’ll go fetch them."

As he left the room, I watched him go. I thought about how much I had judged him without actually trying to study him a-little now seeing him worry about me, seeing him go out of his way to get me chocolates... maybe my mom was right.

Maybe beneath the suits and the billions, he was actually a nice man.

It made William’s behavior feel even worse.

How could a man as kind as Arthur have a son as petty and cruel as William?

Mom leaned in, kissing my temple. "See? I told you he was a good one. Now, you close your eyes. I’m going to go make you some chicken soup."

I closed my eyes, but I couldn't stop thinking about the three-month deadline I had set. I was stuck in bed, my phone was charged now, I was winning over the father, but I was at total war with the son, and I knew, deep down, that when William found out I was being pampered by his father, he was going to make my life even more of a nightmare.

A sharp rap on the door snapped my eyes open a few minutes after Mom went downstairs to get some hot soup.

I expected her to return, but instead, the door swung open to reveal Clara, she wasn’t wearing her scowl from last night, but her face was tight, like she’d been forced to swallow bitter lemons.

She carried a s tray with a steaming bowl of chicken soup and a single glass of warm water.

The porcelain rattled against the tray as she marched toward my bedside.

Without a word, she cleared my books off the nightstand and slammed the tray down.

"Mrs. Higgins says you’re to finish every drop," Clara muttered, her eyes flickered toward the damp pile of clothes I’d left in the corner last night. "And I’ve already had to scrub the mud out of the hallway rug. Twice."

I tried to sit up, but a dizzy spell hit me, making me sink back into the pillows. "I’m sorry about the floor, Clara. I really didn’t mean to—"

"Save it," she cut me off, smoothing her apron with a sharp snap. She looked at me, then at the expensive silk duvet, her expression turning bitter

. "Must be nice. Catching a cold and having the master of the house run around for chocolates while the rest of us work."

She turned on her heel and marched out, leaving the scent of savory broth and cold resentment lingering in the air.

My appetite vanished instantly.

Even the soup felt like a reminder that in the Sterling manor, I was still just a girl playing live-in in someone else's house.

I still couldn't figure why Clara was not happy with me, but I was too weak to confront her about her attitude.

Forcing myself into a sitting position, I drank the hot soup slowly, thinking about how my first resumption day in the university would have been if I wasn't sick...