Chapter 3: Brothers at War

She looked over, her eyes glassy and accusing. It was the same argument as always, but tonight it hit different—like she was blaming me for everything. I bit my tongue, focusing on the road ahead.

I still said nothing, my grip on the steering wheel so tight my hands ached.

The silence between us grew heavier, sharp enough to cut. I could feel her staring, waiting for a reaction. I had nothing left to give.

She opened her eyes, her tone suddenly frosty.

She sat up, back ramrod straight, her face set and cold. The warmth was gone, replaced by something I barely recognized.

"Let him join the company. Mentor him yourself. Otherwise, don’t get married."

Her words hit like a slap. I glanced at her, searching for any trace of the girl I’d loved. But she just stared ahead, daring me to argue.

With a screech, I jerked the car to the curb, tires squealing against the pavement.

The car rocked to a halt, headlights painting the empty sidewalk. I took a shaky breath, trying to steady my voice.

Noah was just Dad’s affair’s son. His arrival had made my mom’s illness worse and led to her death. Dad brought him home three months after her funeral. Madeline knew all of this. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t have dared say these things to me.

The memories crashed over me—hospital rooms, whispered fights, the day Dad walked in with Noah at his side. Madeline had seen it all. She knew how much it hurt, what I’d lost. Yet here she was, taking his side.

I rubbed my brow, squeezed my eyes shut, but all I could see was the two of them in the car, tangled up, laughing.

The scene replayed in my head, relentless. Her laugh, his hand on her leg, the way she looked at him—like I wasn’t even there. My chest ached, tight and hollow.

I’d spoiled her too much—she’d forgotten she wasn’t a princess anymore.

She wasn’t the fairy-tale heiress she pretended to be. Her family name was mud, her fortune gone. I’d picked up the pieces, given her everything she wanted. Maybe that was my biggest mistake.

I leaned in close. Her legs tensed under her skirt, but I just unbuckled her seatbelt and pointed at the door.

She flinched, bracing for a fight. But I just pressed the button, letting the belt snap free, and gestured at the curb, my voice flat.

"Then let’s not get married. I’ll have your things packed and sent to you. Now, please, get out and go home."

She straightened, tossed her hair, and let out a brittle laugh.

She lifted her chin, laughter sharp and hollow. Her eyes flashed, daring me to take it back. She slid out of the car, heels clicking like gunshots on the pavement.

"You’re even jealous of your own brother. How childish."

She shot me a look, lips curled in a smirk. Her eyes danced with contempt, like she was enjoying every second of my humiliation.

My gaze fell to the sapphire necklace around her neck—fifty grand, a gift from my mother. And now she was using my money to buy luxury gifts for that half-brother, even gifting him a sixty-thousand dollar car, just to make up for what he supposedly missed all those years. It was absurd.

The necklace caught the streetlight, glinting like a warning. I thought about the receipts, the credit card bills, the way she’d brushed off every confrontation. It felt like watching someone torch your house, one match at a time.

I opened the door, walked around to her side, and pulled Madeline out.

She stumbled, eyes wide with shock. I kept my grip gentle but firm, determined not to let her make a scene. The night air was cold, slicing through the tension between us.

Seeing her stunned, I unclasped the sapphire necklace.

I slipped it off, my hands shaking. She stared, lips parted, not saying a word. For a split second, I saw the girl I’d once loved—lost and small. But I steeled myself and slid the necklace into my pocket.

"This was my mother’s gift for her daughter-in-law. Since we’re not getting married, I’ll take it back. I’ll contact someone to cancel the wedding, and have PR handle the announcements. I’ll call you a cab."

My voice was steady, almost businesslike. I pulled out my phone, thumbing through the rideshare apps. She watched, face unreadable.