Ex Jealous of Her Brother

After enduring three years of being mistreated by her boyfriend, Isabel Taylor's stepbrother, Royce, came back home. The first thing he did was insist she break up with Johan Rice and took her back to their family home. The second thing was making her dinner.

As Isabel finished her meal and looked up, she noticed Royce had been standing silently in the doorway, leaning against the frame, a belt held loosely in his hand. "What do you think you did wrong?" he asked, his voice carrying the same authority it did when they were kids.

Unfazed, Isabel asked, "What did I do wrong?"

Royce suddenly pressed her against the door with a determined look. "I treated you with the care of handling fragile glass, yet you let yourself be walked over by that guy?! If it's like that—" he kept one hand pinning her as he slowly began undoing his belt with the other. "Better it's me than someone else, right, 'little sister'?"

---

When Isabel returned to her apartment, she discovered her white silk nightgown missing from the balcony. The bedroom was silent, so she assumed Johan hadn't come back yet. She turned the doorknob and flipped the light switch. Johan was sprawled across the large bed, asleep beside someone. The sudden light made him furrow his brows and open his eyes, irritation apparent. He blinked in surprise when he saw her. "Isabel? Why are you back?"

The girl next to Johan awoke from the disturbance and sat up, still groggy. Isabel finally noticed the girl was wearing her white nightgown, the strap draped delicately over her shoulder, intertwined with her dark brown hair. Isabel recognized her as Persephone Mills, a DJ at Johan's bar, who had been there less than a month. Upon seeing Isabel, Persephone seemed nervous, quickly snuggling back into Johan’s embrace.

Unbothered, Isabel quietly closed the door and took her suitcase to the couch. Outside, the vibrant city lights blurred by the heavy rain painted a surreal tapestry of colors.

Time seemed to drag before the bedroom door opened again. Persephone came out, now wearing Johan's oversized white shirt, barely covering her thighs. She offered Isabel an insincere smile. "Sorry, Isabel, I tore my dress, so I borrowed your nightgown."

She handed it back. "My bust was a bit bigger, you see, stretched it out. I'll buy you a new one."

Isabel took the gown and promptly threw it into the trash without saying a word. Persephone's smile faltered. Johan appeared, shirtless, in gray lounge pants and slippers, leaning against the doorframe, a cigarette in his hand, and shot Persephone a disapproving look. "Didn't I tell you to leave?"

Persephone blushed and clung to Johan's arm, ignoring Isabel. "But you tore my clothes to shreds. How can I leave like this?"

Johan scoffed, exhaling smoke. "Your usual outfits are barely there anyway. And now you care about modesty?"

He blew out a smoke ring and pushed her away gently, his tone sharp. "Enough. Go."

Realizing Johan was serious, Persephone pouted but didn't dare provoke Isabel further. She grabbed her coat and headed for the door, blowing Johan an air-kiss. "Call me anytime."

Once the door closed, silence settled over the room. Johan walked over, stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, and draped an arm around Isabel. "Why are you back so early? Didn't you say it would be a few more days?"

His smell of fresh soap and cologne now seemed nauseating. "The meeting ended early," Isabel paused, knowing this wasn't the whole truth. She’d come back early because it was Johan's birthday and had endured a long economy flight just to wish him in person. She had even chosen a special gift.

Johan, noticing her hesitation, reached into Isabel's pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. Inside was a necklace—a blue sapphire set elegantly, its facets glinting like stars. Isabel had discovered the gem in Italy, carefully selecting and polishing it with skilled craftsmen.

Johan arched an eyebrow, examining the box. "Is this for me?"

Isabel held onto the necklace, looking into Johan's eyes. His pupils were dark, full of smug satisfaction. She suddenly realized he didn't deserve the gemstone she had so carefully chosen. "It's not for you."

Johan shrugged, unfazed, with a smirk. "Really upset, huh?"

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, hooking a finger through the necklace, drawing closer. "I admit it. I messed up. The party went wild, and—she insisted on dropping me off. Things just spiraled, okay?"

In a rare attempt to make amends, Johan tried to soothe her, "I won't bring anyone home again. Don't be mad. Help me put this on?"

This wasn’t the first time. Isabel knew it wouldn’t be the last. But it was the first time Johan had brought someone home, someone wearing her things. Disgust overwhelmed her. She tugged on the necklace, pulling hard. Johan did not relent, and the delicate platinum chain snapped, the pendant clattering to the floor.

Johan’s expression turned sour. "Isabel, that's enough."

She let the broken necklace fall, whispering, "I'm tired. I'm going to rest."

In the guest room, she listened as silence filled the air. Then the front door slammed shut, its echo jarring in the night. Johan was furious.

He was never the patient type, probably thinking he'd already done his part in trying to placate her. She was too tired to care about his mood. Isabel had been sick in Italy, suffering from food poisoning for three days. Barely recovered, she endured a long flight, her body now burning with fever.

If Johan had taken a moment to truly look at her, he'd see the dark circles under her eyes, the unhealthy flush on her cheeks. But he hadn't noticed at all. No one had since Royce left.

Huddled under the cold covers, Isabel withdrew a photo from her phone case. In it, a teenage boy lifted her pink Hello Kitty backpack with one hand, the wind tousling his black hair. She could almost remember his fresh, soapy scent, hear the rustling of the oak trees in the breeze. He squinted at the camera, his smile brighter than the sun. His eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to Johan's.