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Blair POV.

The old mansion of the Emerson family.

The sun is shining brightly when I walk in, and George takes the umbrella from the nanny and holds it for his girlfriend himself.

What an actor he is.

Who doesn't know that George is the eldest son of the Emerson family and the heir to the business empire? He has only met Miss Chloe Smith twice and already decided to marry her purely as a business alliance.

I drag my suitcase and call out, "Brother."

George nods to me, then turns to Chloe and says, "This is my sister Blair, my parents' adopted daughter. She has been studying abroad."

"I've heard about you," Chloe gives me a friendly smile.

I smile back, trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice, "You two seem to be getting along really well."

"Your brother is a good man and I'm lucky."

Ha, a couple who love acting.

Today, a party is being held at the old mansion to announce their engagement next month.

I no longer care about them; I hand the suitcase to the servant.

"Where are the Sir and Madam?" I address my adoptive parents as the servants address them.

"Sir and Madam are discussing with Miss Chloe's parents..."

"Okay, I got it."

I head straight to the drinks area, grab a glass of wine, and take a leisurely stroll from the lobby to the gardens.

I finish my drink and lie down on the bench under the wisteria trellis, falling asleep.

The sun shines through the vines and there is a gentle breeze.

This is great.

It would be better if some boring and gossipy women didn't show up.

From far away to near, their voices are getting closer.

"Did you see the young woman who came in with the suitcase? She is Mr. Emerson's adopted daughter."

"Adopted daughter? Don't be ridiculous. Many rich men bring back their illegitimate children and claim to be their adopted kids."

"Others might, but Mr. Emerson would never dare. Would his wife tolerate it?"

"Maybe they really are doing charity."

"Then that girl is really lucky. She crossed the class boundary."

"..."

I am awakened by their voices and open my eyes.

The women's voices are like flies buzzing in my ears, and I get up to find a quiet place to continue sleeping.

A male voice suddenly sounds, and my steps stop.

"Ladies, you look very idle."

There is a moment of silence in the air.

"George, no, we..."

"The living room is full of men listening to the symphony. Would you like to join in? There are several young and beautiful artists in the band today. They had already exchanged contact information before I came here."

His tone is unusually calm, releasing a red alert like a bomb.

I can't help but curl up my lips.

They immediately panic and leave quickly on high heels to prevent the husbands from cheating.

I pick up the wine glass and walk out of the wisteria bush. George hasn't left yet; he's staring at me.

"Hey." I say.

It has been four years since we last met.

Four years ago, it was under this wisteria trellis that I confessed my love to him.

He didn't say anything at the time, but the next day, I was put on a plane to country B.

At this moment, he's staring expressionlessly at the wine glass in my hand.

"Is this what you've learned abroad?" His gaze returns from the wine glass to my face, "Drinking?"

I raise the glass and toast him, "Not just this."

He furrows his brows, a hint of displeasure evident in his expression.

I smile and approach him, raising my hand to stroke his black tie. Then I tiptoe, whispering into his ear, "I've learned much more than that; shall we find some time to explore?"

A crisp sound.

The glass is smashed onto the stone-paved ground, glass shards scattering everywhere.

David lowers his head to look at me, his face as dark as the storm clouds approaching.

He grabs my wrist forcefully, striding through the garden, heading towards my bedroom from the path.

He violently throws me onto the bed, and my vision is filled with stars.

"Reflect on yourself here."

His voice is as cold as ice, followed by the harsh sound of the door being closed.

My Brother, The Devil ✔Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant