My Brother’s Bride Wanted Me as a ‘Live-in Sister-Duty’… Until I Turned the Tables My brother, Ryan Collins, found himself a wealthy heiress, Tiffany Sterling. She demanded he “move into their family estate,” and I, his older sister, had to come along as part of the “package deal.” I was expected to live in their house, serving as a free assistant for life, all under the sweet-sounding guise of “sibling solidarity.” My mom, Joyce, clutched my hand, tears spilling from her eyes instantly: “Avery, you love your brother the most. Just help him this one time.” “If you go, you two can look out for each other at the Sterling estate, and I’ll rest easy.” My dad, Robert, chimed in, nodding in agreement: “What’s the good of all that education for a girl? You’ll just end up married anyway. Helping your brother out, that’s your real blessing.” Ryan hid behind them, head bowed, not daring to look at me, murmuring: “Sis, Tiffany… she doesn’t mean any harm.” A bitter laugh escaped me, furious at my shameless family. I anonymously posted online. “Forced into ‘Live-in Sister-Duty’ for My Brother’s Wealthy Fiancée – Help! Urgent!” The post immediately shot to the top, and the comment section exploded. One top-rated comment caught my eye: [Say yes! Why wouldn’t you?] [But go through the most formal process, sign the strictest contract, and be the most professional employee!] [Let them know what a modern-day labor rights warrior looks like!]
Just then, the doorbell rang. Ryan darted to open the door: “It must be Tiffany!” The door swung open, and a girl in a Chanel suit, with perfectly applied makeup, walked in. She affectionately linked her arm through Ryan’s, but her eyes scanned me up and down. She was Tiffany Sterling. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Collins.” Her sickly sweet voice sent a shiver down my spine. “And this must be Avery? Ryan told me you agreed to come live with us?” “Agreed?” Tiffany shot a glance at Ryan. Ryan looked to my mom. My mom quickly tried to smooth things over: “Oh, Tiffany, don’t misunderstand. Avery already agreed just now.” “She’s just a little shy, she must have said something wrong when she saw you.” “Shy?” Tiffany eyed my faded T-shirt and jeans, letting out a dismissive scoff. “Looks like poor taste to me!” “Ryan, your sister doesn’t look too bright. Don’t let her embarrass me.” My mom and dad’s faces went through a kaleidoscope of emotions, but they didn’t dare utter a single word. Ryan, flushed red, tugged at my sleeve: “Sis, apologize to Tiffany…” I ignored him, pulling my hand free from Tiffany’s grip, and smiled at her beautiful face: “Ms. Sterling is right.” Everyone froze. I continued: “Precisely because my image is unimpressive and I appear unintelligent, a formal employment contract is even more necessary to clearly define responsibilities and rights.” “This is to avoid unnecessary losses to your esteemed company due to my personal shortcomings.” “It’s also to better serve you and Ryan, ensuring the employer’s interests are protected.” Tiffany’s smile stiffened on her face. “Employment contract?” Her voice rose sharply: “Avery Collins, are you crazy from being poor? We’re offering you a spot, you should be grateful!” “No.” I met her gaze directly: “This is a society governed by law. Professional conduct requires professional procedures to ensure it.” “Since this is a special position, a ‘live-in assistant,’ it’s even more important to specify job duties, working hours, salary, benefits, especially worker’s compensation standards, and personal rights protection clauses.” “After all, this job seems to carry no small amount of risk.” You could have heard a pin drop in the living room. Tiffany scoffed, impatiently dialing a number: “Hello, Mr. Miller from Legal? Draft an employment contract for a ‘private assistant’ for me.” “Yes, make it as harsh as possible. Salary… just the city’s minimum wage.” “Also, add a clause: service term, for life.” She hung up and leaned close to me. “Avery Collins, you wanted to play this game. Now, do you dare to sign?” I met Tiffany’s challenging gaze, a subtle smirk playing on my lips, and gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Sure. When do I sign?”
An hour later, a man delivered the contract. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored, high-end black suit, and his face bore a slight resemblance to Tiffany’s, but a hundred times colder. “Seb, why did you come yourself?” Tiffany’s usual sharp edges softened the moment she saw him, and she clung to him docilely. “Dad wasn’t comfortable.” His gaze swept over my parents, finally settling on me. He was Tiffany’s brother, Sebastian Sterling. The true heir to the Sterling Group. And my brother Ryan’s future boss, the one he’d have to grovel to. “Sign it, or get out.” He tossed a file envelope directly at me. “Take a look. If there’s no problem, sign it.” Service term: For life. Working hours: 8 hours. Salary: City’s minimum wage, $1800. Leaking any information about the Sterling family: $100 million compensation. Someone, probably thinking I was as useless as Ryan, had even added a handwritten, domineering clause at the very bottom: Party B voluntarily waives all labor rights granted by law. This wasn’t a contract; it was a modern-day bond of servitude! My mom peered over my shoulder, then abruptly shoved me. “Avery, sign it quickly! Mr. Sterling personally delivered the contract – that’s a huge deal! Don’t be ungrateful!” My dad was just as anxious: “Once you sign, you’ll be part of the Sterling family, no worries about food or clothes. What a great opportunity!” I looked up at Sebastian. He leaned against the wall, hands in his trouser pockets, his eyes filled with undisguised urgency and impatience. “Seb, look at her, she’s so poor and slow, she’s clearly scared to sign.” “Ms. Sterling,” I interrupted her. “I can sign the contract.” I held up the contract, pointing to the very last clause. “However, there’s a small issue here.” Sebastian’s brow furrowed. “‘Party B voluntarily waives all labor rights granted by law.’” “As a professional, Mr. Miller should know that this clause itself is illegal and therefore invalid.” “I suggest removing it to avoid unnecessary legal disputes in the future, which could bring negative publicity and ridicule to the Sterling family.” Tiffany’s eyes widened, completely blindsided by my move. Sebastian straightened up, finally looking at me properly. “You know the law?” “A little.” I said, feigning humility, “After all, I’m an Oxford graduate. Can’t let my alma mater down.” Sebastian stared at me for a full ten seconds. Suddenly, he pulled a Montblanc pen from his inner jacket pocket and crossed out the supplementary clause. “There. It’s done.” He handed me the pen and the contract. Tiffany’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. I took the pen and decisively signed “Avery Collins.” I handed the contract back to Sebastian. “Mr. Sterling, pleasant working with you.” He took the contract, gave me a deep, scrutinizing look, and turned to leave. Tiffany stamped her foot, then hurried after him. The moment the door closed, my mom threw her arms around me, trembling with excitement. “This is wonderful! Avery! Our good days are coming!”
On my first day of work. I strictly followed the netizens’ advice, portraying myself as a “hyper-compliant but utterly clueless” assistant. Tiffany told me to be up at six to await her instructions, and I reported to her room promptly. “Avery Collins, are you a ghost? It’s so early! Don’t you know I sleep until I wake up naturally?” She roared at me, her hair a messy bun. I innocently held up my phone’s memo app. “Ms. Sterling, these were your instructions from yesterday: six o’clock sharp, not a minute more, not a minute less. I’m just demonstrating my professionalism.” She was speechless, rolling her eyes at me. “Get down and prepare breakfast!” “Certainly. Do you have any specific requirements for breakfast?” “Like calorie count, ingredient origin, cooking method…” “Shut up! Just make whatever!” Alright, whatever it is. I prepared a “whatever” breakfast for her: A bowl of plain congee, a plate of boiled cabbage, and two hard-boiled eggs. Next to it, I thoughtfully placed a handwritten nutritional analysis chart. Tiffany’s face went green staring at the sparse and unappetizing meal. “Avery Collins, are you doing this on purpose? Trying to starve me?” “Ms. Sterling, you said ‘whatever’.” “According to the healthy eating pyramid, this is the most scientifically balanced breakfast combination. I’m only looking out for your health.” I spouted nonsense with a perfectly straight face. In the morning, she asked me to polish what was supposedly an antique vase from the last century. I asked: “Do I need any special cleaning agents?” She waved her hand dismissively: “Use your rough hands! If you talk back again, I’ll make you scrub it with a steel wool pad!” “Understood. Message received.” Ten minutes later, Tiffany’s shriek echoed from the study. She pointed at the vase, now covered in scratches and completely devoid of its former luster, trembling all over. “Avery Collins! What did you do to my vase!” I held up the steel wool pad, smiling. “Ms. Sterling, I merely followed your instructions strictly and ‘scrubbed’ it clean with a steel wool pad.” “See? There’s not a speck of dust now.” In the afternoon, she asked me to iron a custom-made silk gown. I again “humbly” inquired: “Ms. Sterling, what temperature should I set the iron to?” “Max! Max heat! Make it perfectly flat! Not a single wrinkle!” She gritted her teeth. “Certainly, mission accomplished.” The result was predictable. That six-figure gown now bore an eternal triangle branded onto the chest area, thanks to my highest-setting iron. Tiffany lost it. She raised her hand, ready to slap me. I didn’t dodge. Her hand was stopped mid-air. Sebastian, who had appeared at the doorway, caught her wrist. “Seb! Let me go! I’m going to tear her apart!” Tiffany pointed at me, crying with rage. “Look at the mess she made! She’s utterly useless!” Sebastian’s gaze shifted from the scorched gown to my face. “What happened?” Tiffany rushed to cry out: “I told her to iron a dress, and she ruined my gown!” “Seb, she did it on purpose! She’s jealous of me!” I lowered my head, whimpering pitifully: “I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling, I just… strictly followed Ms. Sterling’s instructions to set the iron to maximum heat…” “And you dare talk back!” Sebastian’s face grew darker and darker. He released Tiffany and walked towards me. “You’re fired.”
“Fired?” I looked up, meeting Sebastian’s eyes directly. “Mr. Sterling, I’m afraid you can’t unilaterally terminate my employment.” I pulled the neatly folded contract from my pocket and spread it open. “Firstly, my employer is Ms. Sterling.” “Secondly, according to Article 4, Section 3 of the contract, if the employer wishes to terminate the contract early, written notice must be given thirty days in advance, and Party B, which is me, must be paid twelve months’ salary as economic compensation.” I paused, then added: “Additionally, since the contract’s service term is ‘for life,’ it falls under special clauses.” “According to relevant judicial interpretations, early termination in such a case should be regarded as compensation for the loss of my entire professional career.” “Twelve months might not be enough.” Sebastian’s face visibly darkened. Tiffany, even more eager, interjected: “What? Seb! Listen to her! She’s trying to extort us!” “Extortion?” I waved the contract in my hand. “Ms. Sterling, it’s all in black and white. You signed it yourself.” “How can that be extortion? That’s called ‘contractual integrity’.” Sebastian glared at me furiously. He probably hadn’t been defied like this in his entire life, especially not by someone he considered a “maid.” “Fine. You don’t want to leave, do you?” He walked to the sofa, sat down, crossing his legs, his posture casual yet radiating an intimidating presence. “Then stay.” “Tiffany,” He looked at his sister, “Since Ms. Collins is so professional and so eager to keep her job, why don’t you give her more ‘professional’ tasks?” He deliberately emphasized “professional.” “Let her really experience whether working for the Sterling family is worth that $1800 monthly salary.” Tiffany caught on immediately, a malicious grin spreading across her face. “Understood, Seb! I’ll make sure Ms. Collins gets ‘more than her money’s worth’!” The real game, now began. Tiffany’s first move was to make me clean the entire outdoor swimming pool by hand. It was early winter, and the pool water was bone-chilling. “Avery Collins, I want to see your reflection at the bottom of the pool before dark.” “No tools allowed, no draining the water. Just use your hands, scrub it clean, little by little!” Maria, the housekeeper, couldn’t bear to watch and secretly tried to hand me some tools. I shook my head, refusing. Without another word, I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my pant legs, and stepped directly into the water. The icy pool water enveloped my body, the cold searing from my feet all the way to the crown of my head. I gritted my teeth, using my hands and a single rag to scrub the tiles on the pool walls. Tiffany sat on the second-floor balcony, sipping hot coffee and watching me. I could feel Sebastian’s gaze, too, projected from his study window. All afternoon, I stayed in the water, not saying a single “no.” By the time the sun set, I had finally completed the task. When I climbed out of the pool, I was drenched. My lips were blue with cold, and my entire body was trembling uncontrollably. I walked under the balcony, looking up at Tiffany. “Ms. Sterling, the pool is clean. Please inspect it.” Tiffany, probably not expecting me to actually endure it, paused before curling her lip in disdain. “Fine. You know what’s good for you.” I turned, dragging my stiff body towards the staff quarters. Passing the living room, Sebastian called out to me. “Stop.” I halted. He walked down from upstairs, a clean towel in his hand, and tossed it onto the floor in front of me. “Clean yourself up. Don’t drip water everywhere.” I looked at the towel on the ground, not moving. “Mr. Sterling, I am your sister’s ‘private assistant.’ I am not required to follow your instructions.” “If you insist, then cleaning the floor now would be considered overtime, and overtime pay would be required.” 6. “Overtime pay?” “Avery Collins, do you think I can’t do anything to you?” “I’m merely stating the terms of the contract.” He advanced towards me, step by step. “Do you really believe I don’t have a hundred ways to make you unable to stay in this house, and without a single penny?” “I believe you.” I nodded, “But those methods probably aren’t entirely legal.” “And I, for one, have few virtues, but I do enjoy being precise, especially when it comes to legal matters.” We faced each other, neither willing to back down. Finally, he conceded, pulling a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and tossing it onto the floor. “Is that enough?” I bent down, picked up the money, and then, right in front of him, carefully wiped the water from my hands with it. After wiping, I handed the damp, crumpled bill back to him. “Mr. Sterling, please process overtime pay through the company’s finance department. I do not accept cash.” “Additionally, according to labor law, overtime outside of statutory holidays should be paid at no less than one hundred and fifty percent of the normal wage.” “My hourly rate is $1800 divided by 21.75 working days, then divided by 8 hours, which is approximately $10.34 per hour.” “Based on the duration of the floor cleaning, you should pay me…” I pulled out my phone, opening the calculator. “…approximately $4.00. Thank you.” Sebastian stared at me as if I were a monster, then, after a long moment, squeezed two words through gritted teeth. “Get out.” “Certainly, Mr. Sterling.” I turned to leave, naturally not taking the towel from the floor. That night, I inevitably spiked a high fever. I lay in the staff quarters, burning up, every bone aching deep in my bones. Sebastian and Tiffany wanted this exact outcome: for me to give up and leave on my own. But I wouldn’t. I forced myself up, chugging several large cups of hot water. Then, I swallowed two fever reducers and wrapped myself tightly in blankets. The next morning, at six o’clock, I appeared at Tiffany’s bedroom door again, on the dot. My face was pale, my voice hoarse, but my back was ramrod straight. “Good morning, Ms. Sterling. It is precisely six o’clock.” Tiffany looked at me as if she’d seen a ghost. “You… you can still get up?” “Thanks to you, I’m not dead yet.” I managed a weak but standard smile. Over the next few days, Tiffany tortured me even more relentlessly. She made me hand-wash mountains of designer clothes; Scrub the soles of dozens of her shoes with a toothbrush; She even made me get up at three in the morning to buy late-night snacks from that place across town. I did everything, without a single complaint. But I recorded all her instructions on my phone and meticulously logged my working hours. On payday at the end of the month, I sent a detailed overtime summary, along with the audio evidence, to the Sterling Group’s finance and legal departments. The CFO’s face went green when he saw the overtime request totaling a five-figure sum and immediately reported it to Sebastian. That afternoon, Sebastian called me to his study. It was my first time in his study; the walls were lined with books, and a faint, cool cedarwood scent permeated the air. He slammed the overtime application onto his desk in front of me. “Avery Collins, have you had enough fun?” “Mr. Sterling, I’m merely claiming the compensation I’m owed, according to the contract and the law.” “Aren’t you afraid I’ll actually…” “No.” I interrupted him, “Because I know Mr. Sterling is a man of integrity.” “It’s not worth it to cause a labor dispute over such a small amount of money, thereby damaging the Sterling Group’s reputation.” He stared at me with a complex expression for at least three minutes. There was anger, confusion, and something else… something I couldn’t quite read. He still picked up the phone on his desk and dialed an internal extension. “Finance department? Process Avery Collins’s overtime pay, every single cent.” He hung up and leaned back in his chair. “What exactly do you want?” “Mr. Sterling, you’re overthinking it. This corporate drone is just sticking to the contract.” I replied. 7. My refusal to compromise completely wore down Tiffany’s patience. She realized that these petty tricks couldn’t faze me at all. Instead, they only gave me leverage, allowed me to rake in a substantial amount of overtime pay, and seemed to pique Sebastian’s interest in me. She decided to play a more vicious hand, to destroy me. One day, she called me to her room, smiling sweetly. “Avery, you’ve worked so hard these past few weeks.” “I was out of line before, please don’t take it to heart.” She personally poured me a glass of water. I didn’t drink it. “Ms. Sterling, please get to the point.” Her smile froze for a moment, then she continued: “It’s like this, my brother has a very important project he’s working on lately.” “But it seems a rival company has bribed someone inside our organization and has been stealing our confidential business information.” She lowered her voice, speaking conspiratorially: “My brother suspects the mole is someone close to him.” I listened quietly, waiting for her to continue. “Avery, you’re so smart. I was hoping you could help me with something.” She pulled a small USB drive from her drawer. “This is a spare key to my brother’s study.” “I want to ask you to go to his computer tonight, after he falls asleep, and install a program from this USB drive.” “It’s a monitoring program that can help us catch the mole.” She clasped my hand, her eyes “pleading.” “I know this is dangerous, but I really can’t find anyone else I can trust.” “Ryan… you know, he’s too honest, he can’t handle this kind of thing.” “It’s only you, Avery!” “If you succeed, I’ll definitely put in a good word for you with my brother, and he’ll give you a raise and a promotion!” Was my “clueless assistant” act really that convincing? Ms. Sterling was setting such an obvious trap for me. Even with my toes, I could figure out that the moment I plugged that USB drive into Sebastian’s computer, the little program or virus inside would instantly steal core data from the computer and automatically send it to a designated email address. And that email address, nine times out of ten, would belong to the Sterling Group’s competitor. By then, Sebastian would lose the project, and the charge of corporate espionage would fall squarely on me. Stealing trade secrets was enough to make me rot in jail. Tiffany’s move was undeniably vicious. I looked at her, deciding to play along. I just couldn’t guarantee the final outcome. I put on a flustered, overwhelmed expression. “Ms. Sterling, do you really… trust me that much?” “Of course!” She nodded vigorously, “We’re going to be family, after all!” “Alright.” I took the USB drive, clutching it tightly in my hand, “I agree. For you and Ryan, I’m willing to take the risk.” That night, deep in the quiet hours. Following the plan, I took the key and softly opened the door to Sebastian’s study. The study lights were off, only moonlight streamed in through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor. I walked to the desk and opened Sebastian’s laptop. Then, I pulled out the USB drive. I deliberately acted nervous, my hand trembling slightly, missing the USB port a few times. Just as I was about to insert the USB drive. The study lights suddenly flickered on. Sebastian stood in the doorway, his face grim, watching me. Behind him, stood a smug Tiffany Sterling. “Avery Collins, what are you doing?”
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