Chapter 2

It was a baby pink princess gown that made her look youthful and delicate.

I ignored her, but she stepped closer anyway.

"Actually, Asher even bought the matching lingerie for me. But it's a bit too private to show you. What a pity."

Summer clothes are thin. What she meant was obvious.

I thought I had completely detached myself after making my decision last night, but her words still stung.

My mother died when I was very young. My father was always busy running the company, and besides giving me money, he knew nothing about raising a daughter.

He certainly knew nothing about the changes a girl goes through during puberty.

The first time I was mocked at school because I wasn't wearing a proper bra, it was Asher who fought the bullies for me.

At eleven, he wasn't even as tall as me, but he fought like a wild dog.

With a bloody nose, he had awkwardly shoved a soft sports bra and a hoodie from his backpack into my hands.

"I... I've never bought this stuff before. Just put it on!"

He sounded so angry, but his bright red ears gave away his embarrassment.

That was the most sensitive time of my teenage years. Because he bought me that bra, Asher was teased by the other boys in our circle for a long time.

Even now, people joked that he was born to be my husband.

He used to say that he would only do such intimate things for his future wife.

So, what about now?

Did Fiona, his stepsister, also fall into the category of "future wife"?

"If you only came here to tell me this, you can get the hell out."

"Fiona, if she doesn't want to go, just leave her. Come here."

It was Asher.

The moment he walked in, Fiona's face instantly transformed into a picture of pitiful grievance.

"Chloe, it's my 22nd birthday party. Are you really not coming? If I did something to upset you, I can apologize."

She talked about apologizing, but her eyes welled up with tears first.

Asher's heart melted. He stepped forward, shielding her behind his back.

"Chloe, when are you going to stop throwing this tantrum? Fiona is my sister. Once we're married, she'll be your sister too! What you just said was way too harsh. Apologize to Fiona!"

His face was cold. This face, which I had looked at for over twenty years, suddenly felt so foreign.

When did he start protecting Fiona like this?

I remember when Fiona and her mother first moved into the Miller estate, Asher hated her.

He used to call her fake and dramatic.

But gradually, under her sweet, manipulative voice, he began taking her side over and over again.

Before Fiona arrived, Asher and I practically lived together.

Both of our mothers passed away early, and our family villas were right next to each other.

During my first period, on every single one of my birthdays, on the anniversary of my mother's death...

Everyone knew that wherever Chloe Vance was, Asher Miller would be right there.

Until Fiona showed up.

Whenever he was with me, his phone would ring with Fiona's calls.

She was scared of needles, so he missed my birthday to hold her hand at the hospital.

She caught a cold, so he canceled our date and spent a whole month learning how to cook nutritious meals for her.

Every time I questioned him or got jealous, I was defeated by a single line: "She's just my sister."

But did she really just want to be his sister?

I looked past his shoulder and locked eyes with Fiona.

The triumph in her eyes was unmistakable. In this three-way dynamic, she had grown accustomed to his favoritism and the sense of superiority it gave her.

Suddenly, I felt utterly exhausted.

"I'm not apologizing."

"Chloe, what is wrong with you!"

He frowned, his voice laced with warning.

"Fine. Don't regret this!"

Regret?

I was about to marry someone else. I really didn't have time for regret.