My Brother, The Devil ✔

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George POV.

My name is George Emerson.

With the surname Emerson, I was destined to be the heir of the family since birth. My parents often said that the difference between humans and animals is that the latter are only driven by desires, while the former understand interests and rules. People who break the rules and cannot correct themselves will be eliminated, just like stray animals starving to death and dying of thirst.

So, I never make mistakes.

When I was eighteen, a strange little girl suddenly appeared in my home. She was thin and pale, like a deer wandering from the jungle to the city. My mother was holding the newborn Michael at the time, her eyes were calm, but she held my hand firmly.

She said, "George, remember, there are many people outside who covet everything from you and your brother, but you two are the future masters of the Emerson family. Don't let anyone steal what belongs to you."

Later I learned that the girl named Blair was my mother's silent declaration to the outside world. From then on, no other woman dared to approach my father.

I thought Blair understood her status and would try to live like air in this house. But she was really like a deer with horns on her head, and she only knew right and wrong.

So, soon after she arrived, she was locked up in my mother's punishment room, and at the worst, she almost died.

At that time, I was 22 years old and had my own house, so I brought her to live with me. To some extent, I understood my mother - she was betrayed by her husband. But bullying a little girl? The child is innocent; she didn't ask to come into this world.

Then I slowly fell in love with her.

I hated myself for this; I suspected that I was a pedophile.

But the reason she liked me was simple - she longed for love, and I was the only man in the world who was kind to her.

So, after she confessed to me, I immediately sent her to live and study abroad.

I didn't see her for four years, and I was like crazy. I asked bodyguards to monitor her every move and built an isolated basement in Sea of ​​Clouds, fantasizing about imprisoning her there for life.

In her world, there was only me.

Later, my parents said that I should get married, so she came back to attend my engagement party.

Four years later, her temper had not changed at all from when she was a child, and she dared to beat my little brother, so my mother locked her up in the confinement room again.

This time I saved her in time, but my mother beat her even harder, and she ended up in the hospital.

On the day of the engagement, I kissed my fiancée in front of many guests, and then I saw her rush in, motionless. She had learned to drink abroad, and at the engagement party, she drank glass after glass, as if her stomach were made of steel. Finally, she was in the hospital again.

I realized that she couldn't go on like this; she might not live past thirty, so I sent bodyguards to monitor her openly and not let her drink.

As soon as she woke up, she rushed to the company and asked me if I still loved her.

But my upbringing taught me that family interests always take precedence over personal feelings, and love is just a child's game.

And I didn't know what was wrong with me. I denied my feelings for her, but I kept an eye on her every move, whether it was skydiving or dealing with lustful customers in business negotiations - I handled it for her.