The Brother's Secret Claim

"Vivienne, if you weren't my own blood, who could ever put up with a temper like yours?" That was the joke my brother had told since we were kids.

Three days later, I was holding a DNA test. Turned out I really wasn't his blood. From that day on, I never dared give my brother hell again. At first he loved it.

Figured I'd finally turned sweet. Until three months later, when the real daughter came home. Calm as anything, I offered to move back in with my birth parents.

My brother's face drained white.

That night, one of his buddies came by to talk him down. "If you can't stand to let her go," he said, "then just marry her." "I'm not an animal!" my brother snapped.

So the buddy went at it from another angle. "Then—will you stay by her side the rest of your life?

Cherish her, put up with her, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?" Without a second's pause, my brother said: "That's what I was always going to do." Me: ???

Chapter 1 Go more than five hours without seeing my brother, and I'd lose it. I'd been that clingy my whole life. It started the year I got kidnapped.

Julian was the one who came for me, who dragged me out. After that, my need for him maxed out. He barely even traveled for work.

Then, a few days ago, something blew up at the company's London branch. He flew out without telling me and dealt with it after. Five days later, he was back.

Which was how he ended up locked out of the house, coaxing me through the door. "I shouldn't have gone behind your back," he said. "But it really was urgent." "I bought your favorite bag.

Open up for your brother, hmm?" I sat on the couch with my hands over my ears and ignored him. He knocked for a while.

When it was clear I wasn't budging, his voice went flat. "Fine. Not opening it. Got it." Then he made a call. A minute later, I heard someone start working the lock.

I shot upright and yelled at the door. "You pick that lock, and I won't speak to you for three days!" The scratching stopped dead.

Julian let out a slow breath. "We were apart for five days. This is that serious?" That only made me angrier. I grabbed the throw pillow beside me and hurled it at the door.

A soft, useless thud. I was winding up for another round of threats. That was when a line of comments scrolled across my vision. The ones only I could see. [Lol.

The side character still has no clue she's the fake heiress.] [Keep throwing your tantrums, girl.

Once the real daughter comes home and your brother's patience finally runs out, you'll fall in line.] I froze. Stared at them. Me? The fake heiress? No way.

But the comments kept coming. [If she'd just take a DNA test, she wouldn't look this pathetic.] [Thinks her parents have her back.

Never once guessed she isn't even theirs.] Outside, Julian sent the locksmith off and knocked again, easy and unbothered. "A little sister shouldn't cling to her brother like this.

You should give me some room." "And I wrapped things up as fast as humanly possible. All this, over that?" The second he finished, I opened the door. No expression at all.

His brows went up. He leaned down to look at me. "Well. Forgiving me fast today, aren't you." Then he held out what he'd brought—cake, the bag, a necklace.

The comments scrolled past again. [God, look how hard he's spoiling her right now.] [In three months he'll want to toss her out just as bad.] [Countdown's on.] Chapter 2 My head was still full of those comments.

I took the gifts without really looking. Then my eyes landed on his hair. Julian caught sight of my bare feet, frowned, and scooped me up before I could react.

It startled me. "Julian, what is wrong with you?" I said, using his whole name. He didn't let go. "You were staring right at me. That's you asking to be carried, isn't it?" Me: ?

I was still angry and started to squirm loose—then I saw his hair, right there, inches from my face. I hesitated. Then I leaned in and plucked out a single strand.

He patted my back in warning. "Your new revenge is pulling my hair?" I didn't answer. I just watched the comments and quietly closed my fist around that one strand.

Enough for a DNA test. Because if I really was the fake heiress, I was finished. I'd given my brother hell for years.

And the thing he said to me most: "Vivienne, if you weren't blood, who could stand a temper like yours?" When I was little, our parents worked too much to raise me.

They felt guilty about it, so they gave me anything I asked for.

Even when I got too attached to Julian, too possessive, all they ever told him was, "Just let your little sister have her way." So from the day I was born, Julian had a shadow.

Wherever he went, I went. Until a bouncer stopped me at the door of a bar. "No minors inside." I clung to my brother's sleeve and shook my head. "No.

I'm going with you." Julian was barely eighteen then, right in the thick of wanting to have fun. He shook my hand off, annoyed, and called the butler to take me home.

At eleven that night, he checked his phone. The butler had called a hundred times. I was missing.

He tore through half the night looking, and found me curled up asleep in the scrubby bushes by the bar door. His face was hard. He asked why I'd wandered off.

I woke in his arms, still hazy, and nuzzled his cheek. "...Wanted to see you sooner." After that, Julian almost never went out again. And me?

Spoiled rotten, my parents always on my side. I started ordering him around like I owned him.

He waited on me and ground his threats out through his teeth. "Vivienne, if you weren't blood, I'd throw you out this second." I didn't take it seriously back then.

Kept right on using him. But now I was holding a DNA test. And it turned out— I really wasn't theirs. The comments drifted by, in no hurry at all. [Relax.

The real daughter doesn't come home for another three months. Give or take.] I was finished. So completely finished. I went home shaky.

Our parents traveled constantly, so it was usually just me and Julian in the house. I got back, and he wasn't there.

After dinner, the butler set aside a late plate for him, in case he came home hungry. But ten o'clock came and went. The food went cold. Still no Julian.

The butler kept waiting at the edge of the room. In the end, I called him. It rang once and connected.

Before I could get a single word out, I caught voices on the other end of the line. Chapter 3 "Jules, who's calling?

You picked up quick." "Don't tell me your little sister's already nagging you home. Man—must be nice, having a sister." Julian, longsuffering: "What can I do.

She's just too attached to me." Then he brought the phone to his ear and huffed a laugh. "It's barely ten. Nagging me home already?" His buddies groaned somewhere in the background.

Scared he'd actually get sick of me, I rushed to say it. "No—no.

Stay out as long as you want." His breath caught. "What's that supposed to mean?" I looked at the cold plate of food. "If you're not coming back, I'll have the butler toss this and turn in for the night." Silence on the line.

A long one.

Then, like it finally dawned on him: "So now you're using the butler as an excuse to drag me home?" The comments spammed across my vision. [Is the side character... sucking up?] [Won't help.

In the script, you leave sooner or later.] "Fine. Coming home now." He hung up. Me: ??

Normally, if he'd dared come home this late, I'd have bolted the front door and gone up to bed. But I didn't dare act out now. I was trying to smooth things over.

So I stayed on the couch, planning to heat his food up myself. And ended up asleep. Some time later, I felt someone lift me. Careful. Gentle.

I wrapped my arms around his neck on instinct and opened my eyes—to my brother's, dark and simmering. "Vivienne.

You'd gamble with your own body just to force me home?" "It's eleven. How could you stay up out here instead of going to bed?" I didn't get what he had to be angry about.

I hadn't even thrown a fit yet. Hadn't locked him out. But I still meant to heat his food, so I squirmed to get down. He held on tighter. "Okay. Don't be mad.

I promise I'll be home by ninethirty from now on. Happy?" I told him, and I meant it. "It's really fine if you come back later." He frowned. "More sulking?" Me: ...

In the end he never touched the food. He washed me up instead, tucked me under the covers. When it was all done, he stood by my bed and didn't leave.

Like he was waiting for something. A few seconds passed. When I still didn't move, he leaned down toward me.

I flinched and got a hand up against his chest. "What are you doing?" He clicked his tongue and caught my wrist. "Wasn't it your rule?

A forehead kiss before bed." I said it fast. "That's okay. We don't need to. Not anymore." His face went dark again. "So this is how you punish me.

Childish." He scoffed and stood, cold. "No kiss, then. You think I care." Over the next few days, I proved it with everything I did—I really wasn't angry. I stopped clinging.

Stopped policing who he saw. At dinner I even put food on his plate. He raised a brow, clearly enjoying it. "Not bad, little sister.

Why so wellbehaved lately?" The comments lined up all at once. [He's still praising her.] Chapter 4 I laid it out right away. "I'm sorry, big brother.

I used to keep you on too tight a leash. I won't do that anymore." Julian blinked. Then he smiled. "About time.

What kind of little sister clings to her brother forever, anyway." So for the next few days, my brother finally went out with his buddies again.

Still came home by ninethirty, though. On his own. Then one night, he walked in right at ninethirty—and found I wasn't home yet. He called me immediately.

I was at my club's dinner and couldn't take it, so I let it ring out and texted back instead. Me: [At my club's dinner.

Might run a little late—don't wait up, big brother.] He took a moment. Then, so very reasonable: Him: [It's fine. You're free to do what you want.

We should both give each other space.] Him: [You're your own person. Of course your brother won't cage you.] Him: [Have fun, little sister.] I let myself relax.

The comments couldn't stop laughing. [He says it so pretty.] [Two more months, give or take, and he really won't have to deal with you at all.] By eleventhirty, the dinner finally wrapped up.

I'd had a couple of drinks, so I couldn't drive. And it was too late to feel okay about calling the family driver.

While I was still deciding, another guy from the club offered, kind about it. "Vivienne, I drove.

I can drop you on the way." Worried I'd feel weird, he added, "Another girl from the club's in the car too.

I'll take you first, then her." I was tipsy enough to just nod, mechanical.

Seeing the state of me, he stepped in and steadied my arm, polite. "If you're that drunk, you can lean on me for a sec." I really was unsteady, so I let myself tip lightly against his shoulder and let him walk me toward the car parked at the curb.

Out in the open air, the wind cleared my head a little. He still had a hand on my arm. And I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching me. I glanced around, uneasy.

Nothing looked off. Just as I was about to get in, the guy beside me made a small sound. "Vivienne—who's that? He hasn't stopped staring at you." I followed his eyes on instinct.

In the dim light, my brother stood halfswallowed by shadow. Leaning against a car door, those dark eyes locked on me, not blinking once. At the same moment, my phone chimed.

Another text from my brother. Him: [Get in that car and I'll die right here in front of you