WonNovels

After I learned that I wasn’t the biological daughter of the Reed family, I no longer dared to act spoiled and unreasonable with my brother the way I used to.

I stopped clinging to him, and I stopped asking about his social life and schedule.

At first, my brother seemed quite pleased with that.

“Not bad, kid,” he said lazily, leaning against the edge of the dining table with a faint smile. “Why did you suddenly become so well-behaved lately?”

Until three months later, the real Reed heiress was brought home.

I still didn’t cry, and I still didn’t make a scene. I only calmly said that I wanted to move back in with my biological parents.

My brother’s face went pale on the spot.

That night, his friends deliberately went to the club to drink with him and console him.

One of them said half-jokingly,

“If you can’t bear to let your sister leave, then just marry her.”

My brother cursed him with a cold face.

“Are you insane? I’m not a beast.”

The guy fell silent for two seconds, then reluctantly changed his wording.

“Fine, then let me ask it another way. Would you be willing to spend your whole life with her, take care of her, tolerate her, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

The next second, my brother answered without the slightest hesitation,

“That was my plan all along.”

Me: “?”

1

Ever since I was little, I loved clinging to my brother.

Especially after that one time in childhood when I was nearly abducted and he searched for me like a madman and brought me back. From then on, my dependence on him had become almost pathological.

If I didn’t see him for more than five hours, I would throw a fit.

When I grew older, he rarely even went on business trips anymore.

Until a few days ago, when something suddenly went wrong at one of the group’s overseas branches.

This time, he had no choice. He acted first and explained later, and flew straight to New York.

On the fifth day of his trip, he finally came back.

And right now, I had shut him outside the door, while he patiently coaxed me from the other side.

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have hidden the business trip from you. But there really was an urgent matter over there, and I had to go in person.”

“I brought you that bag you’ve wanted forever. Open the door, okay?”

I sat on the couch in the living room with my knees hugged to my chest, covering my ears, not wanting to pay him any attention at all.

He knocked for quite a while. When he realized I truly had no intention of opening the door, he finally sighed softly.

“Fine. Not opening it, huh?”

The next second, I heard him apparently making a call to the front desk.

Not long after, I heard the sound of keys and tools clinking outside.

I shot up from the couch and shouted toward the door,

“If you dare call someone to open it, I won’t speak to you for three days!”

The noise outside stopped instantly.

Through the door, I heard him suck in a low breath, as if he had been angered into laughter.

“It’s only been five days apart. Is it really this serious?”

Hearing that made me even angrier. I grabbed the throw pillow beside me and hurled it toward the door, where it landed with a muffled thud.

I was just about to spit out a few more threats when several strange lines of text suddenly drifted across my vision.

[LMAO, the vicious supporting girl still doesn’t know she isn’t actually a real Reed.]

[Just keep acting up. Once the real heiress comes back and her brother finally loses patience with her, she’ll learn her lesson.]

My body froze. I stared blankly at those floating words.

Me?

Not biological?

How was that possible?

But the words kept flashing.

[If she’d just go get a DNA test right now, she wouldn’t look this ridiculous.]

[She still thinks she has her parents backing her up, when she was never their real daughter to begin with.]

Outside the door, my brother dismissed the locksmith, then knocked again. His tone was lazy and teasing.

“A little sister can’t be this clingy with her brother. You have to give me some personal space.”

“I handled everything as fast as I could. Was that really enough to make you this angry?”

The moment he finished that sentence, I expressionlessly opened the door.

He was obviously stunned for a second. Then he lifted a brow and bent slightly to look at me.

“You’re forgiving me this quickly this time?”

As he spoke, he handed me the cake, the jewelry box, and the shopping bag in his hands.

But my mind was still full of those bizarre comments. Distracted, I took them from him.

Then my eyes landed on his hair.

He noticed that I was barefoot. His brows immediately furrowed, and he bent to scoop me into his arms.

He startled me so badly that I instinctively snapped at him.

“Rowan, what the hell is wrong with you now?”

He didn’t put me down. Instead, he looked at me and asked, completely self-righteous,

“You were staring at me just now. Weren’t you hinting that you wanted me to carry you?”

Me: “?”

I was still angry. I immediately started struggling to get down.

But the moment I saw his hair so close, I hesitated for two seconds and quietly reached up, plucking a strand from his head.

He instantly patted my back in warning.

“So your new way of getting revenge is pulling my hair?”

I said nothing.

I only looked at the text floating before my eyes and silently clenched that strand in my palm.

Because if I really wasn’t a biological Reed—

Then I was probably truly screwed.

After all, all these years, I had thrown tantrums at my brother, made trouble for him, and dumped every bit of my bad temper on him.

And the line he always repeated most often was:

“Evelyn, if you weren’t my biological sister, who on earth could put up with that temper of yours?”

2

When I was little, our parents were always busy handling business all over the world and rarely stayed by my side.

Out of guilt, they indulged nearly all my demands.

Even when I developed an excessive dependence and possessiveness toward my brother, they only brushed it off lightly and told him,

“Give in to her a little.”

So from the moment I had memories, Rowan had always had a little tail trailing behind him.

Wherever he went, I followed.

Until one time, when he went with his friends to a bar downtown, and I insisted on following him inside.

The security guard at the entrance stopped me.

“Minors aren’t allowed in.”

I immediately grabbed the corner of my brother’s shirt and shook my head.

“No. I want to go in with my brother.”

At the time, Rowan had only just turned eighteen. He was at that age when he loved noise and excitement most.

I had annoyed him so much that he directly brushed my hand away and told the driver to take me home first.

But when he came out of the bar at eleven that night and checked his phone, he saw that the house steward had called him countless times.

That was when he found out—

I was missing.

He immediately lost his mind and dragged a group of people with him to search the entire street for most of the night.

In the end, they found me curled up asleep beside a patch of bushes not far from the bar.

His face was terrifyingly dark when he asked me why I had run off.

I had been woken groggily by him. I rubbed my face against his cheek and whispered,

“…Wanted to see my brother sooner.”

From then on, he rarely went clubbing anymore.

And with our parents favoring me, I became more and more justified in ordering him around.

While taking care of me, he would grit his teeth and threaten,

“Evelyn, if you weren’t a biological Reed, I’d have thrown you out of this house ages ago.”

Before, I had never taken those words seriously.

But now, holding the DNA test report in my hand, I realized—

I really wasn’t biological.

3

I was done for.

This time, I was truly done for.

Trembling with nerves, I went home.

Our parents were often away from London for long stretches. Most of the time, only my brother and I lived in that house.

When I got back, he wasn’t there.

After dinner, the steward had the kitchen leave a late-night meal aside, saying it was for Rowan when he returned.

But by ten o’clock, even after the food had gone cold, he still wasn’t home.

Looking at the steward still waiting nearby, I hesitated for a long time before finally calling my brother.

He picked up almost immediately.

Before I could speak, I heard someone on the other end jeering,

“Rowan, whose call is that? You picked up so fast.”

“Don’t tell me it’s your sister calling you home again. Damn, having a sister really is nice.”

My brother let out a helpless laugh.

“Can’t help it. She’s too clingy.”

Then he put the phone back to his ear and asked with a faint smile,

“It’s only ten. Are you already calling me home again?”

In the background, I could vaguely hear his friends making exaggerated groaning noises.

Terrified that he really had already grown impatient with me, I hurriedly explained,

“No, no. You can stay out as long as you want.”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

“What do you mean?”

I glanced at the late-night meal that had already gone cold and carefully said,

“If you’re not coming back, I’ll have the kitchen clear it away and let them get off work earlier.”

He went silent for a few seconds. Then, as if he had suddenly understood something, he laughed softly.

“So this time you even know how to use the kitchen staff as an excuse to rush me home?”

“Fine. I’m coming back now.”

Then he hung up.

Me: “?”

If it had been before, and Rowan stayed out that late, I would have locked the door and gone upstairs to sleep.

But now I didn’t dare make a fuss anymore. I only wanted to take the chance to ease our relationship a little.

So I waited in the living room the whole time, thinking that when he came back, I would reheat his food for him personally.

But while waiting, I fell asleep on the couch.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I felt someone gently lifting me into their arms.

Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around that person’s neck and groggily opened my eyes.

Only to crash straight into my brother’s gaze, dark with suppressed anger.

“Evelyn, for the sake of forcing me to come back, you wouldn’t even take care of your own body?”

“It’s already eleven. Why are you still not in bed?”

I had no idea what gave him the right to be angry.

I hadn’t even lashed out at him yet. I hadn’t even locked him outside this time.

But I still remembered that I had meant to heat up his late-night meal, so I struggled to get down.

He held me tighter instead and said in a low voice,

“Enough. Stop sulking.”

“I promise you—from now on, I’ll be home by nine-thirty at the latest. Satisfied?”

I seriously explained,

“It’s okay if you come back later than that.”

He frowned. “Still talking in anger?”

Me: “…”

In the end, he still didn’t get to eat his late-night meal.

Instead, he first helped me wash up, tucked me into bed, and only then stood by the bedside.

After doing all that, he didn’t leave right away. It was as if he were waiting for something.

After several seconds of waiting with no response from me, he bent closer.

I was startled and hurriedly pressed a hand to his chest.

“What are you doing?”

He clicked his tongue and grabbed my wrist.

“Wasn’t this your own rule? A goodnight kiss before sleep.”

I quickly clarified,

“Not today. And not ever again.”

The moment those words left my mouth, his expression darkened again.

“So this is your way of taking revenge on me?”

He let out a cold laugh and straightened up.

“Then don’t kiss me. As if I care that much.”

4

Over the next few days, I practically proved it to him with my actions—

I really wasn’t angry.

And I really would never cling to him, control him, or interfere with who he spent time with the way I had before.

I even took the initiative to put food on his plate at dinner.

He lifted a brow, clearly pleased.

“Not bad, kid. You really have been very good lately.”

I immediately stated my position.

“I’m sorry, Brother. I used to interfere too much. I won’t do it anymore.”

He froze for a second, then smiled.

“You should’ve been like this sooner. What sister clings to her brother all the time?”

So over the following days, he finally started going out with his friends again—to clubs, to drinks, to gatherings.

But he still made a point of coming home by nine-thirty every night.

Until one day, he returned right at nine-thirty, only to realize that I still wasn’t home.

The next second, my phone rang.

At the time, I was at a student society dinner and it wasn’t convenient to answer, so I rejected the call and texted back:

[At a dinner with my society. I might be back a little late. You don’t have to wait for me.]

A little while later, he replied:

[It’s okay. What you want to do is your freedom. We should both give each other some space.]

[You’re an independent person. Of course your brother won’t restrain you.]

[Have fun, Eve.]

Only then did I relax.

The dinner didn’t end until eleven-thirty that night.

I had drunk a little, so I couldn’t drive.

It was too late, and I felt bad asking the family driver to come all the way out for me.

Just as I was hesitating, an upperclassman from the society walked over and said politely,

“Evelyn, I drove here. I’m headed your way anyway—I can give you a ride home.”

Probably worried that I’d feel awkward, he added,

“Olivia’s in the car too. I’ll drop you off first, then her.”

I was a little dizzy from the alcohol and could only nod mechanically.

Seeing that I was unsteady on my feet, he politely steadied my arm.

“If you’re feeling bad, you can lean on me for a bit.”

I really was unsteady, so I lightly leaned against his shoulder and let him help me toward the curb.

The night wind hit me the moment we stepped out of the restaurant, and I became slightly more awake.

The upperclassman was still holding my arm.

But I kept feeling as if some gaze was fixed on me the whole time.

I instinctively looked around, but saw nothing unusual.

Until I was just about to get into the car, and the upperclassman suddenly let out a soft sound of surprise.

“Evelyn, who’s that over there? Why has he been staring at you this whole time?”

I followed his line of sight.

Under the dim streetlight, my brother was leaning half against his car door, standing in the shadow.

He didn’t move at all. He was just looking at me, his eyes dark and terrifying.

At the same time, my phone vibrated.

A new message popped up on the screen.

[If you dare get in his car, I’ll die in front of you tonight.]

5

Before I could react, Rowan had already walked over.

He pulled me straight out of the upperclassman’s hold and into his arms. Only then did he lift his eyes to the other man, his voice calm in a way that felt glacial.

“My girl is still young, and her guard is terrible. She never knows how to refuse kindness from strangers.”

“I’ll take her home. No need to trouble yourself.”

I could hear the hostility in his words and couldn’t help defending the upperclassman.

“You’re misunderstanding. He’s not a stranger. We’ve known each other for a long time!”

He immediately pressed,

“Since when? How did you meet? Why did you never tell me?”

I had already been slow from the alcohol, and his barrage of questions completely muddled my brain.

The upperclassman looked at me, then at him, and finally frowned.

“Even if you’re her boyfriend, that’s too controlling.”

“Her family hasn’t even said anything.”

My brother raised a hand to adjust his shirt collar and smiled with false courtesy.

“Sorry. I am her family.”

“I’m her brother.”

Then he dragged me away directly.

By the time I came back to myself, I had already been shoved into the car.

He pinched my cheek and narrowed his eyes at me.

“You’d rather get in a strange man’s car than call me to pick you up?”

I bristled and slapped his hand away.

“What’s it to you?”

He let out a cold laugh.

“Of course it’s my business. Answer me first—when did you meet him?”

“Besides him, how many upperclassmen or underclassmen do you know? Any of them like you?”

He annoyed me so much that I snapped back,

“I don’t care that you go to clubs anymore, so why do you get to care about me?”

He froze for two seconds, then suddenly seemed to understand something, and his expression actually relaxed.

“Oh—so because I’ve been going out drinking, you were deliberately picking a fight with me tonight?”

As he spoke, he somehow sounded both troubled and relieved.

“I knew it. You still love keeping tabs on me.”

“Fine, Eve. Your brother promises—from now on, I won’t go to clubs anymore.”

“And you’re not allowed to see that man again.”

Me: “?”

6

I had worked so hard, and in the end he still thought I was just trying to control him.

That wouldn’t do.

If this kept going, sooner or later he would end up hating me completely, just like those comments said.

I thought about it for a long time, and in the end I decided on another method—

Instead of that, I might as well just flatter him directly.

So over the next few days, I personally brought lunch to his company almost every day.

And when he got off work, I would go greet him at once and ask if he was tired and whether he wanted coffee.

At first he was obviously startled, but he adapted very quickly, and soon even got used to it.

“So attentive,” he said, leaning against his desk and looking at me with a half-smile. “Go on. What jewelry have you set your eyes on this time?”

I choked and quickly explained,

“It’s not because of jewelry.”

“Then you want a car?”

“No.”

“Or did you fall for some limited-edition bag again?”

I was practically fighting to salvage my image.

“None of those! I’m not planning to spend your money anymore!”

I had thought that saying this would at least improve the impression I left on him a little.

But unexpectedly, after hearing it, his face darkened even more.

He gave a cold snort.

“Then don’t spend it.”

“That’s hilarious. As if I’m dying to buy things for you.”

“The day our parents cut off your trust allowance, don’t come crying back to me.”

7

I truly couldn’t understand what he was angry about this time.

So I could only grow even more careful around him.

A few more days passed like that.

After my last class of the day, I estimated that he should be getting off work soon, so as usual I went to his company.

I was already thoroughly familiar with that office building.

But when I reached the door to his top-floor office, I found chaos inside.

There was a huge coffee stain spreading across his suit jacket.

And in front of him stood a girl about my age, apologizing frantically with her head lowered, tissues in hand, clearly wanting to help wipe it off.

I frowned and, almost instinctively, walked over quickly to stand between them.

“Brother, what happened?”

He explained calmly,

“It’s nothing. She didn’t hold the cup properly. I’m going to change.”

The girl beside him looked even more guilty and kept apologizing.

I couldn’t help glancing at her.

The next second, the familiar floating comments appeared before my eyes again.

[Ahhh, our beloved heroine finally appears!]

[As expected of biological siblings—he got coffee all over himself and still didn’t blame her.]

[Once he takes the heroine to that client banquet, he’ll be completely drawn in by her charm!]

[A few more times like this and they’ll recognize each other soon enough!]

I froze, then seriously looked the girl over.

She was thin, but she stood straight. Her eyes were round and bright, and she looked clean, stubborn, and resilient.

No wonder she was the heroine of one of those adored-group stories.

Someone like that did seem naturally easy to like.

Before I could say anything, my brother had already spoken to me exactly the way the comments predicted.

“Eve, I still have a banquet to attend later. Go home first, okay?”

Looking at the line that said they’ll recognize each other soon enough, panic suddenly rose in my chest.

I even selfishly thought—

If I stopped him from going to that banquet now, would the rest of the plot fail to happen?

I instinctively grabbed his sleeve and was just about to speak.

But the comments floated by again.

[Here we go, the spoiled supporting girl is about to try to block the siblings’ reunion again.]

[LOL, like it matters whether she tries to stop it or not. The heroine is so lovable—everyone will like her sooner or later.]

[As for this vicious supporting girl, later she’ll do all kinds of stupid things out of jealousy and end up completely hated by her brother.]

The words I wanted to say stuck in my throat.

And then, of course, he lowered his head to look at me and asked,

“What is it, Eve? What were you going to say?”

My confidence instantly weakened by more than half. All I could do was clutch his sleeve like it was my last lifeline and ask softly,

“…Brother, can you not go to that banquet tonight?”

He laughed.

“Eve, what are you being unreasonable about now?”

“I have to go. But I promise—as soon as it’s over, I’ll come right home.”

I looked at him and asked again,

“You really have to go?”

He gave a casual hum in answer and even reached out to rub my hair.

“Be good and go home. I’ll bring you some cake afterward, all right?”

As he said that, he turned to instruct the girl which files she needed to bring and which contract to prepare.

She held a notebook and wrote everything down very earnestly.

Watching the smooth and natural way they interacted, I stared blankly.

When he saw I wasn’t speaking, he even reminded me,

“What are you spacing out for? You don’t want cake? Not even strawberry?”

I took a deep breath and finally looked at him as I said,

“No.”

Looking at those floating comments, I suddenly understood.

Since everything would follow the so-called plot no matter what, I couldn’t change it at all.

In that case, instead of continuing to tiptoe around trying to please him, I might as well face reality sooner and start preparing to leave the Reed family.

After all, hadn’t he always said—

If I weren’t biological, he would throw me out?

Fine, then.

I didn’t want him as my brother anymore, either.

8

From that day on, I completely gave up.

I stopped bringing him lunch.

I stopped meeting him after work.

I didn’t even bother asking when he came home late.

Instead, I got busy taking stock of everything I owned—my limited-edition bags, the jewelry I’d bought at auctions, my necklaces, my watches.

Then I had someone roughly estimate their resale value on the secondhand market.

Together with the money already in my own account,

as long as I stopped spending recklessly the way I used to, it would be enough for me to live on for a very, very long time.

And Rowan’s mood, meanwhile, became visibly worse by the day.

When he realized that I had not waited for him after work for three days in a row, his expression turned completely cold.

But there were still certain habits between us, leftovers from childhood, that hadn’t been changed yet.

For example—

He helped me wash up.

This went all the way back to a long time ago.

When I was little, I refused to let the nanny touch me and threw fits insisting that my brother wash my face for me.

Driven to helplessness, he had no choice but to take over.

Logically, once I grew up, things like that should have stopped long ago.

But I was lazy and had never taken the initiative to bring it up.

And somehow, he had never brought it up either, so it had simply continued all the way until now, as if by unspoken agreement.

Just like this moment.

With a cold face, he squeezed toothpaste onto my brush.

With a cold face, he wet the towel.

With a cold face, he stood beside me while I slowly finished washing my face and brushing my teeth.

When I climbed into bed, he still wore that same cold expression while helping me tidy the clothes I had left scattered to one side.

After he finished all that, he stood by the bed and looked at me without saying a word.

I knew what he was waiting for.

He was waiting for my goodnight kiss.

But now I couldn’t even be bothered to coax him.

I directly turned over, giving him my back, and ignored him.

He stood there for several seconds. When I still didn’t move, he suddenly gave a short mocking laugh.

This pampered young master, who had been indulged by everyone since childhood, had probably never been given such a cold shoulder in his life.

He couldn’t be bothered to keep wasting time either, so he turned and started to leave.

I was playing on my phone when something suddenly occurred to me, so I called out to him.

“Oh, right, Brother—”

Almost instantly, the oppressive chill around him vanished.

He turned and strode back toward me.

Before I could finish what I meant to say, he had already bent down and lightly pressed a kiss to my forehead.

After kissing me, even the dark expression from moments ago had disappeared. His voice even carried a trace of smug amusement.

“There. I didn’t forget your goodnight kiss.”

“You clingy little thing.”

I froze for two seconds and silently edged backward a little.

“…No, that’s not what I meant. I meant that from now on, you don’t have to help me wash up anymore.”

Before, I had always relied on our parents favoring me and said with total justification,

“What’s wrong with a brother wiping his little sister’s face?”

But he had clearly always looked very unwilling about it.

Now it was just right.

He wasn’t even my real brother, and I couldn’t keep troubling him like this anymore.

After hearing that, the smile on his face vanished bit by bit until it was completely gone.

Then he asked in a calm that felt almost eerie,

“Why?”

I answered honestly,

“Because I’m grown up now. I can wash my face and brush my teeth by myself.”

He wouldn’t have to be forced to take care of me anymore.

He’d probably feel much more relaxed too.

But he just stood there in the same place, silent for a very long time.

Finally, he lowered his eyes to me and said through gritted teeth,

“Evelyn, are you trying to kill me?”

9

Starting the next day, he and I entered a cold war.

It manifested specifically like this:

When I was struggling over a group assignment, he would sit beside me and say coolly,

“It’s something this small. You can definitely solve it yourself, can’t you?”

When I was about to go out to have fun with my friends, he would lean by the entryway and drawl lazily,

“Go ahead. You’re all grown up now. Of course your brother can’t interfere in something like that.”

When I stared at a plate of cilantro and onions—my least favorite things—he would look at me expressionlessly and say,

“Eat. You’re an adult already. Why are you still picky?”

This bizarre state continued for several more days.

Then one day, after class, I came home and unexpectedly found both our parents there.

They were sitting in the living room with my brother, and none of them looked very good.

At the same time, the familiar floating comments appeared before my eyes once again.

[Ahhh, thank God—the real heiress is finally going to be brought back into the wealthy family!]

[Once the parents know their biological daughter has spent all these years out there, they’re definitely going to feel awful.]

[Bring the heroine back home already! Now we just have to see how they’re going to deal with the fake daughter.]

[Even if they can’t bear to send her away right now, once she starts acting up later, she’ll be kicked out sooner or later.]

Just as expected, when I walked over, our parents told me, in a very gentle and roundabout way, about the fact that the babies had been switched at birth.

After saying it, they all fell silent.

It seemed that even they themselves didn’t know how to handle this abrupt upheaval.

At that moment, my brother, who had been sitting to one side, suddenly spoke.

He glanced at me, his tone carrying the same familiar sarcasm as always.

“Didn’t she say herself that she’s all grown up now? Maybe she’s already made up her own mind.”

After hearing that, our parents looked at me too.

“Evelyn, what do you think?”

So the day had finally come.

And strangely enough, I didn’t feel the breakdown or hysterical crying I had imagined.

I was calm from beginning to end.

I only stood up and said to them,

“Dad, Mom, thank you for taking care of me all these years.”

“Now that she’s come back, I should return to the other family as well.”

The moment those words fell—

the face of my brother, who was sitting beside us, turned deathly white.

The glass in his hand fell with a sharp crash to the floor, shattering into pieces.

10

After a long discussion, our parents still didn’t agree to my proposal right away.

But the news that the Reed family had found their biological daughter, and that Evelyn might return to her original family, spread very quickly through our circle.

When my brother’s friends heard about it, they all went to keep him company.

“It really is fate playing tricks. The little sister we’ve all watched grow up isn’t even a real Reed.”

“Rowan, maybe she was only saying that in anger. She probably can’t bear to leave you either.”