Introduction

The California sun felt like a fresh start, a golden promise for my new life as an architect in LA, working alongside my successful older brother, David.

But that promise shattered the moment my phone buzzed with an unknown number.

"So you' re the one," a cold voice sneered, "The little sister who' s trying to sleep with her brother."

My mind reeled. David, engaged? He never told me. And then this woman, Chloe, his fiancée, accused me of being a "homewrecker," her words laced with venom.

The next morning, she escalated, posting a photo of David and me in our office' s company-wide chat, publicly branding me as someone with "no shame."

"You' re not his 'sister.' You' re not related by blood at all," she broadcasted, twisting the truth of my adoption into a weapon, exposing our private family history to my new colleagues.

I turned to David, my protector, expecting him to defend me. Instead, he simply messaged, "Sarah, don' t engage. Just ignore it. You' re making it worse."

His inaction was a betrayal, a chilling realization that the brother I idolized was letting me be publicly humiliated, prioritizing "image" over my dignity.

What kind of monster would weaponize family history? And why was David, my anchor, abandoning me to the storm? I knew then that this wasn't just a jealous fiancée; this was a battle, and my cherished brother was on the wrong side.