Sinful Obsession: My Billionaire Stepbrother

First day Bully

~Isabel~

5:45 AM.

The alarm clock on my nightstand rang.

It sounded like a literal siren that woke me up in one sudden jolt.

I rolled out of the silk sheets that felt way too smooth and expensive, like they made fun of my dry, low-maintenance skin, then stood in the middle of the walk-in closet in the room that's like the size of my old apartment.

My eyes landed on the dark floral dress that hung there.

I reached for it, my fingers just brushed the fabric before William’s voice hissed in my head:

'Take this off and burn it.'

I pulled out a stiff charcoal blazer and a crisp white shirt from my suitcase instead.

It felt professional, uncomfortable, and looked like a suit of armor when I put it on.

After I showered, I dressed and looked at myself in the full-length mirror.

My reflection looked like a stranger trapped in a borrowed life.

Why am I doing this?

I didn't come here for a free ride, I spent two long, exhausting years back in Brooklyn, New York, working every shift I could find.

I saved every single penny just to pay my own tuition and get into this university.

My mom thought her new marriage meant I could finally relax, but I knew better.

I still needed money for my textbooks, my transit, and just to keep myself going without once asking Arthur for a handout.

This internship didn't just exist as a resume builder, it served as my lifeline.

I endured William only because he stood as the gatekeeper to the paycheck and the future I'm ready to bleed for.

By 6:55 AM, I stood in the grand hallway.

The floors shone so bright I saw my own nervous face reflected back at me.

I checked my watch. 6:58 AM.

"Punctual. That’s a new one for your family."

William leaned against the doorway of the study, a silver espresso cup in one hand and a leather briefcase in the other.

He wore a navy suit that looked like it was painted on him, looking as if he already conquered three countries before breakfast.

"I told you I work," I said, grabbing my bag. "I don’t need a lecture on being on time."

He walked toward me, slow and steady.

He stopped just inches away, and that scent of sandalwood and a cold breeze hit me again.

He looked me up and down, his eyes stopping at my plain white collar.

"Better," he murmured in a low voice. "But the shoes looked like a total disaster. We’ll have to fix that."

"My shoes look fine."

"Your shoes belonged to a waitress, Isabel. You're working as an intern at Sterling Global now. Try to keep up."

I followed him out to a black Bentley.

The ride into the city felt like a tomb of silence, He spent the whole forty minutes staring at a tablet with a cold, robotic focus.

He didn't give me a tour.

He just existed in his own bubble of power, leaving me with the feeling like I couldn't breathe properly around him.

When we pulled up to the Sterling Global headquarters—a massive glass tower that looked like it stabbed the clouds—my stomach did a slow, sick flip.

"Follow me. And keep your mouth shut until I tell you otherwise," William said.

The doors opened on the fiftieth floor.

A woman with her hair pulled back so tight it looked painful stood at a desk. She looked up, her eyes flicking from William to me with instant dislike.

"Sophia," William said. "This is Isabel Mayfield. She joined as the new intern. Give her the backlog from the Manchester merger. I want the physical audits checked by the end of the day."

Sophia’s lips curled into a mean smile.

"Of course, Mr. Sterling."

And with that, he disappeared into his office.

Sophia turned back to me, her expression turning cold. She hauled up a stack of heavy cardboard boxes, slamming them onto a small, cramped desk in the corner.

"These contained the paper invoices for the last three years," she hissed. "Most of this already exists on the computer, but William wanted a manual check. It amounted to about four thousand pages, try to see you get done with it by the end of the day."

"By the end of the day?" I asked.

"In this building, we don't ask for extra time, Miss Mayfield." She stepped closer. "Now, get to work."

I sat down, The chair felt uncomfortable and the mountain of paper felt like a dug grave for me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, I couldn't quit! No!! I needed this job to pay for the textbooks that sat in my digital cart and the maintenance fees I owed the school.

I picked up the first page and started to read.

Five hours later, my eyes burned and my throat felt dry.

I hadn't tasted any water since morning.

Every time I looked up, I saw William through the glass of his office, but He never once looked my way.

By 6:00 PM, the lights dimmed automatically.

My fingers carried ink stains, and my head felt like it sat in a vice.

A shadow fell over my desk.

"You're still here," William noted.

"I'm not finished," I said, my voice sounding scratchy.

He stepped closer, picking up a ledger.

"Sophia gave you this to break you," he said quietly. "It’s dead data. It doesn't even matter."

I felt a surge of hot, stinging anger.

"Then why did you let her give it to me?"

William leaned over, planting his hands on the wood to bring his face level with mine.

"Because I wanted to see if you’d quit," he whispered. "I wanted to see if you’d run back to your mother and cry."

"I don't quit," I hissed, leaning in until our noses almost touched.

"I worked two years just to be where I'm today. You wanted to see me fail so you could feel better about being a jerk, but it's not happening."

His gaze dropped to my lips, and this time, he didn't look away.

He reached out, his thumb catching a smudge of ink on my cheek, He didn't wipe it away; he just smeared it, his skin warm against mine.

"You're a mess, Isabel," he murmured sweetly like he cared. "Ink on your face. Cheap suit. Exhausted eyes. Why don't you leave all this and go back to New York, huh?"

"Never! Newsflash, stepbrother dearest—I am just getting started," I said defiantly, staring right into his eyes.

He pulled away suddenly.

"Go home. The car is waiting downstairs. And Isabel?"

I looked up, my heart heavy with so much rage.

"Wear the floral dress tomorrow," he said, a dark look entering his eyes. "I want to see if you'll actually defy me..."