1 After my cool, untouchable stepbrother lost his memory, I coaxed him into being my devoted little dog for half a year. The moment I heard he had gotten his memories back, I packed cash overnight and ran. I traveled the world. Somewhere along the way, I also had a baby. Years later, I was on a beach with my son, playing the part of a devastatingly gorgeous hot mom, when my brother appeared out of nowhere with a storm-dark face. The second he saw the child, his usual icy composure shattered. “Summer Pierce,” Dorian Blackwell said hoarsely. “How dare you?” My stomach dropped. I thought he had figured out the child was his. Then I heard him grit out, “Where is the boy’s father?” “I kept you beside me since you were little. I was so afraid some useless pretty boy would trick you that I barely let you hold a boy’s hand. And that bastard dared to make you suffer this much?” Before I could speak, his hand moved toward the gun at his waist. “Forget it. I don’t want to hear it. This is my fault for not protecting you. That bastard can die.” Wait. So he had forgotten everything I did to him back then? The day Dorian recovered his memory had come without warning. I had no time to react. The night before, he had taken too long helping me clean up in the bath. My waist still ached, my legs were still weak, and I still had to run to the study and drag out a suitcase full of cash. I couldn’t use cards. Dorian would find me in minutes. A man that spotless, that cold, that proud, had been coaxed by me into acting like my devoted pet for half a year. With his temper, even if he couldn’t bear to kill me, he would peel off a layer of my skin. At first, he hadn’t wanted to go along with it. In the hospital bed, Dorian had looked like a blank sheet of paper. His eyes were damp and confused. “Miss,” he asked softly, “who am I? And who are you?” Miss? What a ridiculous reversal. After years of pretending to be the obedient little sister, I took a deep breath and, for the first time in my life, felt wicked. I smiled at him in my white dress. “You? You’re my puppy.” He turned his face away. That cold, distant face of his flushed with an unnatural red. “I’m a person,” he said. “Not a puppy.” Oh? So even without his memories, shame was still there. That wouldn’t do. I stepped closer, lifted his chin with my fingers, and coaxed him gently. “Dorian, when I call you my puppy, I’m not treating you like a toy.” “It means that from this moment on, you can depend on me completely. And you’ll have all of my love.” His clear eyes stared at me without blinking. None of his usual coldness or severity remained. That newly built pool really had done a number on him. One fall, and it had washed his memory clean. I smiled. “You don’t want all of my love?” He didn’t answer. But a soft, damp kiss landed on the fingertip beneath his chin. The feeling shot straight up my spine. I pushed my luck. My fingers pressed between his lips, coaxing the answer out of him. His voice, usually so clean and cold, came out blurred. “I do.” He tilted his head back instinctively, meeting me halfway, his beautiful brows faintly drawn together. I was satisfied. I climbed onto his hospital bed and curled myself into his arms. He hesitated for only a second before wrapping himself around me. The familiar scent of mint mingled with disinfectant. Someone’s heartbeat thundered so loudly that I didn’t even hear the knock. Mr. Reed, Dorian’s most trusted assistant, came in holding a medical report. “Sir, the doctor said…” The warm body around me tightened at once. I didn’t think much of it. A person with amnesia would naturally be frightened by strangers. I only patted Dorian’s back and glanced at Mr. Reed. “Wait outside for me, please.” The boss was the boss. But the little boss was still a boss. Mr. Reed’s gaze flicked quickly from Dorian to me. Then he understood. “Yes, Miss Pierce. I’ll wait outside.” Dorian’s accident had happened that morning, when he went alone to inspect the hotel’s newly built pool. The surveillance footage showed him slipping into the deep end. His head hit the steps, and he lost consciousness. He nearly drowned. Honestly, the Blackwell ancestors must have been burning incense in heaven. Losing his memory was already the lightest possible outcome. I used the accident to make Mr. Reed temporarily take over company affairs. Anything that required Dorian’s signature would come to me first. Mr. Reed looked troubled. I lifted one finger. “Should the boss have been inspecting that pool alone?” “No.” “And now that something has happened to him, shouldn’t someone be responsible?” “Yes, but…” “And since responsibility must be taken, and since the boss is physically unwell, shouldn’t you help share his workload?” Mr. Reed opened his mouth to argue. Then his eyes accidentally shifted into the hospital room, and his whole body shuddered. I wondered what he had seen. When I turned around, I only saw Dorian sitting obediently on the bed. Like a puppy quietly wagging his tail. My heart almost melted. “Yes, Miss Pierce,” Mr. Reed said. I brought Dorian back to the old house where we had grown up. After his father passed the company to him, he took my mother and traveled the world. Even when they came back, they stayed at the seaside villa, rarely at the old mansion. That was perfect. If no one was around, I could be far less restrained. Dorian was six years older than me. Elegant, tall, and impeccably disciplined. He had never neglected his body. When I lifted the hem of his shirt, veins stood out against the taut, pale muscle of his abdomen, making my mouth go dry. To be honest, I used to be afraid of him. He was always putting me in time-out. When we were children, his father and my mother were both busy. Sometimes we wouldn’t see them for a whole week. Dorian, still a child himself, had to be both parent and older brother to me. The first time I took an exam in first grade, I scored a zero in math. It needed a guardian’s signature. I brought it to Dorian. Without a word, he locked me in the study and told me to reflect. Reflect on what? On how the turtle I drew on the test paper wasn’t as good as the one in my notebook? I didn’t understand. The second time, I learned my lesson. My deskmate told me he had scored one hundred, and when he got home, both his parents kissed him. I thought, if one hundred got that kind of treatment, then I might as well add a one before my zero and a bunch more zeros after it. When I brought it home, Dorian fell silent. No matter how hard I howled in the study that night, he didn’t let me out. Until I finally ran out of tricks and softened my voice. “Dorian…” The study door opened a crack. Dorian said he was punishing me, but he was always waiting outside the door. Once I realized that, I began to act sweet. When thunder rolled, one call of “Dorian” let me crawl into his mint-scented bed. When I was picky and greedy, one call of “Dorian” made him cook whatever I wanted. When I didn’t want to go to school, one call of “Dorian” let me sleep at home all day. Then adolescence came, and my feelings for Dorian changed. Living under the same roof as that face made it very hard not to fall. One boy in class bet me that if he dyed his hair yellow, he would look better than my brother. I rolled my eyes. To prove him violently wrong, I skipped school with him and climbed over the wall to a salon. One yellow head and one pink head were born. And the first person we ran into was Dorian, home early from college. He had one hand on the steering wheel, his face dark, his eyes fixed on me. I rarely heard him call my full name. “Summer Pierce. Get in the car.” Sure enough, even angry, my brother was gorgeous. Before I died, I still elbowed the yellow-haired boy beside me. “See? You’re still not as handsome as my brother.” His voice trembled. “Y-yeah, but I think your brother is about to kill me… Oh no, he’s getting out.” After I went to college, Dorian entered the family company. His temperament grew steadier, his methods sharper. Only with me did he remain indulgent without limit. The year I graduated, my family began choosing suitable marriage prospects for me. I refused and used Dorian as an excuse. “Dorian hasn’t even married yet. Why am I in such a hurry?” My mother took a sip of tea. “Once we find the right girl from the right family, your brother’s marriage will be settled too.” “In marriages like ours, interests come first. If affection grows later, that’s a bonus. Your brother understands life better than you do.” A sour, vicious feeling rose inside me until I almost drowned in it. I suddenly realized all the tenderness he gave me would be given to another woman too. Maybe even more. He would marry her. Let her invade his private space. Sleep beside him. He would take off his crisp suit and cook for her to suit her tastes. He would hold her close. Let her explore him further. And I would not allow it. So now, while Dorian had no memories, I pushed him onto the desk in the study and asked him again and again, “Are you my puppy?” Dorian had never had a girlfriend. His romantic history was blank. So was the rest of him. He tried to retreat, overwhelmed. The question was too intimate. It sounded like I was asking, Can I bully you? And his silence was the invitation he handed me himself. My terrible temper had all been spoiled into me by Dorian. To outsiders, I was just a pampered rich girl. Only in his eyes was I terribly obedient. Unfortunately, after I grew up, I saw the way Dorian handled business. No matter how much he indulged me, a rebellion like this, devouring him whole while standing beneath him in name, was something I never would have dared to do. Thank God he remembered nothing. He fell into my trap only because of instinctive familiarity and trust. Dorian was smart. He learned many things quickly. Including intimacy. Even after I ran, I dreamed of it several times. Thankfully, I was open-minded. If I had slept with the person I liked, that was enough. I had food, clothes, and money. Going back meant either a business marriage or death. Only an idiot would walk into death. I wanted freedom. By the time I reached the third country, I found out I was pregnant. I was afraid of pain and afraid of dying. Giving birth cost me half a suitcase of cash. Luckily, little Ari had been sensible since the womb. Even in a foreign country, he didn’t make me suffer much. When he was just over two, I resumed my trip around the world. The beaches of Croatia were perfect for photos. I held Ari’s hand and played the world’s hottest mom. A handsome model who was clearly also from back home happened to be working nearby. Shamelessly, I borrowed his photographer. Unexpectedly, the handsome man was even more generous. He lent me himself too. With Ari in one arm and my other hand resting on the model’s abs, I smiled so hard my face hurt. Only Ari kept pouting. So young, yet so old at heart. Exactly like his father. Before the model left, he added me and said he would send me the photos. I held Ari’s hand and walked along the sand a little longer. Then I noticed fewer and fewer people around us. Someone was gesturing, ushering them away. I realized something was wrong. I scooped Ari up and was about to run. Then Dorian appeared, his face dark as a storm. The moment he saw the child, his icy expression cracked completely. His beautiful eyes flushed red. “Summer Pierce,” he said. “How dare you?” The more I looked at father and son, the more alike they seemed. Guilty, I instinctively hid Ari behind me. Dorian clenched his jaw. “Where is the boy’s father?” “I kept you beside me since you were little. I was so afraid some useless pretty boy would trick you that I barely let you hold a boy’s hand. And that bastard dared to make you suffer this much?” Before I could speak, his hand moved toward the gun at his waist. “Forget it. I don’t want to hear it. This is my fault for not protecting you. That bastard can die.” Wait. He really had forgotten everything I had done to him? I followed Dorian back home. Mr. Reed told me Dorian had recovered all his memories, except for that half year. It was gone clean. Over the years, he had tried every treatment. Machines, therapy, even electric stimulation. Nothing worked. His treatment logs filled several thick books. I frowned when I heard that. “If he can’t remember, then let it go. Why force himself like that?” Mr. Reed shook his head. “Probably because the emotional control he was so proud of suddenly collapsed, and he didn’t even know why.” Before he could finish, my tablet was taken from my hands. Dorian’s voice was cold. “Mr. Reed. Are you very free?” The other end went silent. Then Dorian’s suspicious gaze landed on me. He was like a man surrounded by alarms. “Summer Pierce. Didn’t I tell you not to think about running?” I sighed helplessly. “My dear brother, does chatting count as running?” To prevent me from seeing the imaginary man he had invented in his head, Dorian imprisoned me in the old house where I had once imprisoned him. What goes around really does come around. The ankle-chain hooks I had specially installed for him back then were now all used on me. The old house was at least an hour from the company. Dorian simply moved his work back to the mansion. After years outside, suddenly returning to a life where meals appeared, clothes appeared, and someone helped take care of the child felt amazing. I ate and slept in the old house every day. Dorian still didn’t trust me. He thought this was my delaying tactic. He brought me to the study and, in front of me, opened a hidden room. It was airtight. I had never seen it before. Dorian frightened me on purpose. He said he had spent three years building it. The walls were made of special sound-absorbing material. Even if I screamed my throat raw, no one would find me. If I dared run, he would lock me inside forever. “Summer, don’t even dream of going back to that man.” He said it while anger reddened the corners of his eyes. I couldn’t help teasing him. “Then can I only look for you?” Dorian answered without thinking, “Of course.” I laughed so hard I couldn’t stand and fell onto the soft carpet. This carpet had been laid overnight after Dorian discovered I was always walking barefoot around the old house. Through his dress pants, I touched his calf. Wherever my fingers brushed, he trembled. “Summer,” he said, voice tight. “Let go. I’m your brother.” I smiled wickedly and lifted my eyes to him. “You drove my husband away. Shouldn’t you compensate me with yourself?” The air went silent. The man I had been teasing a moment ago was suddenly wrapped in danger. His eyes narrowed. Half warning, half threat, he said, “Summer Pierce, if you dare say that again, I’ll throw you into international waters for the sharks.” “I’m your brother.” The last sentence came low and restrained, as if he was saying it to me and to himself. I was still a little afraid of him. So I scrambled up from the floor, patted myself off, and muttered meekly, “Fine. I won’t say it. Who’s scared?” Dorian stayed beside Ari and me almost twenty-four hours a day. Even during meetings, the two of us had to be within fifteen feet of his line of sight. Thankfully, Ari liked him very much. When we both appeared, he only wanted Dorian to hold him, not me. Ungrateful little brat. Fine. Letting your mother rest counts as filial piety. During a morning video meeting, Dorian wore a perfect suit from the waist up, while below the desk, Ari crawled everywhere and nearly tugged his trousers off. I laughed quietly nearby. One moment of inattention, and Ari hugged Dorian’s knee and climbed straight up. A little watery-eyed head appeared on the video call. I rushed over to pick him up, only to discover that everyone else had already left the meeting except Mr. Reed. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Mr. Reed asked in delight, “Sir, whose baby is that? He looks quite a bit like you.” The words struck like thunder. I froze. Dorian lifted his head and looked at me suspiciously. Damn it.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “466689”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel
Leave a Reply