Chapter 1My Late Sister

My brother was the story’s villain—a frail, brooding soul plagued by an eating disorder.

In the original novel, the heroine used gourmet food to wrap him around her little finger. Once she grew bored, she tossed him aside like trash. He ended up starving to death, all alone in our mansion.

But now, he has me.

His bratty, food-loving, grudge-holding little sister.

I won't touch food that's a touch too bland or a pinch too salty. I won't swallow rice that's a grain too hard or a second too soft. No takeout. No frozen meals. And if he didn't make it with his own two hands? Forget it.

I was his personal, one-man wrecking crew.

So when the story's heroine arrived at our door, a gourmet basket in hand, ready to tame her gloomy little puppy…

She shrieked, her composure shattering at the sight of the mountain of a man expertly flipping a skillet in our kitchen.

The chat comments that had been scrolling beside me for the last five years trembled with laughter.

【LMAO, the mermaid in the pond turned out to be a megalodon. Who wouldn't have a meltdown?】

* * *

When I opened my eyes on the hospital bed, a chaotic stream of text messages floating in the air gave me a splitting headache.

【WTF, wasn't the villain's sister supposed to die young? Why is she still alive?】

【Who knows. Even alive, she's just a burden. The villain is a senior in high school, and their parents died in a car crash last year. How is he supposed to take care of a sick two-year-old?】

【Don't be so harsh. Everyone knows Fred Blackwood treats his sister like she's his whole world. He's been running to the hospital every day since she was born.】

【Totally. In the book, he dropped out of school after his sister died. No parents, no friends, no college. He just spent his days street racing and skydiving until he wrecked his legs and went back to the mansion to die. That is, until the heroine showed up with her food to win him over…】

【Pfft, please. He only survived because he latched onto our Stella. The cripple was lucky to get a decent meal. And he still had the nerve to ask her why she left him before he died? Pathetic.】

My eyes snagged on the words "decent meal."

I glanced down at the delicate platinum bracelet on my wrist, easily worth a few million, and smacked my lips in confusion.

Why wouldn't my brother get a decent meal? Are we poor?

【Quit fighting! He’s here!】

【Damn, no cap, Fred Blackwood’s face is a masterpiece. The whole room just got brighter.】

【Broad shoulders, narrow waist, legs for days. That girl Stella is eating good!】

"Willow?"

A pair of gloomy, intense eyes met my own wide, curious ones, and suddenly, the boy's entire being seemed to spark with life.

He dropped his backpack and rushed toward my bed, his long legs covering the distance in three quick strides. He carefully scooped my tiny, soft body into his arms and gently nuzzled his cheek against mine.

Pure joy radiated from him, his lips threatening to split his face with a grin. "Willow! You're awake!"

"Thank God, you're awake."

A warm drop landed on my cheek, and his choked whisper hung in the air. "I thought… I thought you were going to leave me all alone, too…"

The noisy chatter of the floating comments fell eerily silent.

I grinned, patting my brother's face with my clumsy baby hands.

Starving? Legs broken? Hmph!

Not on my watch.