My Sister Stole My Millions and Said the Billionaire Loved Her

At a Stephens Group construction site, I was struck by falling debris that punctured my uterus.

The ten-million-dollar workers' compensation settlement had barely hit my account before my parents transferred every last cent.

You're never going to have children now. What's the point of keeping the money? Better to give it to your sister so she can pay off her gambling debts. After all, she's the only one who can still bear children. When you're old and need someone to take care of you, you'll be depending on her kids anyway.

"That's right. It's your fault for always being the top student. Your sister felt so inferior she dropped out and picked up a gambling habit. Paying her debts is the least you can do!"

Gambling was a bottomless pit. I fought them tooth and nail, but when nothing worked, I had no choice but to call the police.

That was when my sister kicked me square in my injured abdomen, a smug grin plastered across her face.

"Go ahead, call the cops. Think about it. You got a chunk of flesh crushed, and they paid out ten million? That's because Logan Stephens has a thing for me. The money was a favor to me. Calling the police won't change a thing. That money was always meant to be mine!"

I froze.

After my accident, the CEO of Stephens Group had held me in his arms, eyes red-rimmed, and sworn he would take responsibility for me for the rest of his life. And now my sister was claiming he had feelings for her?

...

The wound on my lower abdomen had been stitched and bandaged, but the pain still throbbed with every breath.

At least the settlement had been ten million dollars, more than ten times the standard amount.

With that kind of money, I could go abroad and find a cutting-edge clinic for treatment.

But when I tried to book a plane ticket, the screen flashed: Insufficient balance.

Ten million dollars. Every single cent, gone.

A buzzing filled my skull. My hand trembled around the phone. From beyond the bedroom door, I heard my sister Ethel Swanson's voice, shrill with glee: "Mom, Dad, thank you so much! With this ten million, I can finally pay off all my debts. No more hiding!"

My parents' voices carried their usual indulgent warmth.

"Oh, sweetheart, you've always been so thoughtful. It was just a transfer. No trouble at all."

"That's right. You're the apple of our eye. Nothing we do for you is ever too much."

I yanked the door open. The three of them stood there, a picture of domestic bliss, and something inside me cracked. Fury. Disappointment. A bitterness so deep it burned.

"Mom. Dad. That ten million was my compensation. You transferred it without even asking me? Give it back."

The smiles on my parents' faces hardened. They looked at me the way they always did when I inconvenienced them.

"We're family. There's no 'yours' and 'mine.' If we don't use this money to pay off Ethel's debts, you think the loan sharks will just leave her alone? Why can't you stand to see your sister catch a break?"

Anger flared white-hot in my chest. "I can't stand to see her catch a break? Every dollar I've earned for years went to this family or to covering her gambling debts. But she keeps doubling down, every single time. I'm done."

"Abigail Swanson, have you lost your mind?" Cole Swanson's eyes bulged as he jabbed a finger at my face. "You're not even a whole woman anymore. You're useless! Your sister is the only one who can give us grandchildren. If you won't help her, do you want the Swanson bloodline to end?"

I drew a long, steadying breath. "I need this money because of what happened to me. I need it for treatment abroad. Give it back, or I'm calling the police."

"You ungrateful wretch!" He jabbed his finger so close it nearly touched my nose. "I should've drowned you when you were born, you heartless animal!"

A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I held my ground.

"You have three minutes to transfer the money back. Then I'm calling the police."

"Abigail, sweetheart."

Leah Swanson pushed Cole aside and rushed toward me.

"I carried you for nine months. I raised you through blood, sweat, and tears. For my sake, just help one more time. Please?"

"I'm begging you. I'll get on my knees if that's what it takes..."

She started to lower herself, bending at the knees, and instinct took over. I reached out to catch her, my gaze sweeping across the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, the silver threading through her temples. My throat tightened.

For a long moment, I said nothing.

Then I steeled myself.

"Mom, you do this every time. You guilt me into bailing Ethel out. But this time I genuinely need this money. I'm begging you. Please stop pushing me."

When she saw I wasn't budging, my mother dropped to her knees.

"I'm not forcing you. You're the one forcing your sister to die, forcing your father and me to die! If you won't agree, then I'll kowtow to you. I'll keep going until you say yes."

Thud. Her forehead hit the floor with a dull, sickening sound, and it might as well have been a hammer striking my chest.

I slumped forward and grabbed her arms. My mind was screaming, clawing at the walls, but all I felt was a crushing helplessness.

In that moment, I wished I'd been born from a crack in the earth rather than from the flesh and blood of these two people.

Finally, I let out a long breath and made my decision.

"This is the last time. But you have to leave me two million. I need to go abroad for treatment."

I'd also made up my mind to accept the company's overseas assignment. Once the treatment was done, I wouldn't come back for a while.

After all these years of being bled dry, plus this eight million, it would be more than enough to repay the debt of being raised.

But the second Ethel heard my terms, she exploded. "Like hell! Every last cent of that ten million is mine. You don't get a single dollar!"

"She's right," my father chimed in. "You're only helping your sister pay off a fraction. How is that any different from not helping at all? Besides, you're already wrecked. That kind of damage doesn't heal. No point throwing money away on a lost cause."

"Help your sister now," my mother added, "and her children will take care of you when you're old. Wipe your chin, change your bedpan, the whole deal. All you're doing is spending a little money for a lifetime of returns. Isn't that a good trade?"

I watched their mouths open and close, every word dressed up like concern, every word a blade twisting between my ribs.

A bone-deep chill washed over me. I knew there was no reasoning with them. I went straight to my room, locked the door, and called the police.

The dispatcher said they'd be there within fifteen minutes. I hung up and barely had time to exhale before the door was kicked open.

My parents' faces were a twisted mess of panic and fury. They lunged at me, clawing and shoving. "You actually called the cops? You ungrateful wretch, are you trying to get Ethel killed?!"

Ethel herself planted a kick square in my stomach, sending me crashing to the floor. But there was no fear on her face. She was grinning, wild and triumphant.

"Relax, Mom, Dad. Even if the police show up, even if God himself walks through that door, Abigail's never getting that money back."

My parents hesitated. "But it's her settlement. When the police get here, they really won't do anything?"

"Of course not." Ethel's face was smug, her voice dripping with certainty. "Because that money was given on my account in the first place."

"Getting hurt on a construction site? A hundred thousand in compensation, tops. The only reason Stephens Group shelled out that kind of cash is because Logan Stephens has a thing for me. He was trying to get on my family's good side!"

"Logan Stephens?" My father's eyes went wide. "You mean the CEO of Stephens Group? The one who's better looking than a movie star?"

"Stephens Group has operations all over the world. They must be worth billions. And he... has a thing for you?"

My parents stared, stunned speechless for a moment, then broke into beaming smiles, falling over themselves to praise Ethel for being so impressive.

I could only marvel at the absurdity. "Ethel and Mr. Stephens don't have the slightest connection. She has the nerve to say it, and you two actually believe it?"

My mother jumped to Ethel's defense immediately. "Why wouldn't we believe it? She's my own precious daughter. I know her better than anyone. Every time Ethel owed gambling debts, she told me right away. Every cent, accounted for. That proves our Ethel is honest and pure-hearted. She never lies!"

My father nodded with absolute conviction. "Your settlement was suspiciously generous. I'd been wondering about that. Now it all makes sense!"

I nearly laughed from sheer disbelief. I couldn't help but think back to the day of my accident, when Logan Stephens, a man known for being untouchable and remote, had eyes so red they looked like a rabbit's. He'd held me in a grip that nothing could pry loose, swearing he'd take responsibility for me for the rest of his life.

In the sunlight, the tips of his ears had turned the color of ripe tomatoes.

I couldn't stop myself from pointing out the obvious. "Has it occurred to either of you that the settlement was so large because of me? I'm the one who's worked at Stephens Group for years. I'm the one who's been by Mr. Stephens' side all this time."

A flicker of hesitation crossed my parents' faces.

Ethel scoffed. "Oh, please. Stop deluding yourself. You worked right under Logan's nose for how long? If he were actually interested in you, something would've happened ages ago. But with me? One meeting, and the sparks were flying."

That little speech was all it took. The hesitation vanished, replaced by contempt as they turned their glares on me.

"You've always been scheming," my father spat. "Always had to one-up your sister. You knew she struggled in school, and you deliberately took first place every single time just to rub it in. You knew she didn't make much money, that all she could bring home for the holidays was a bag of bananas, and you had to show her up with a gold bracelet!"

"Now you're trying to lie your way into stealing your sister's spotlight. No wonder you ended up crippled. You got exactly what you deserved!"

I froze.

Ethel was only a year younger than me. I'd felt my parents' favoritism since childhood. That was precisely why I'd pushed myself so hard to be better, to be good to them, desperately hoping to earn even a scrap of their love.

I never imagined this was how they saw it. Years of longing for their affection, years of trying, and all I got in return was you deserved it.

An iron fist clenched around my heart, twisting without mercy. The words tore out of me before I could stop them. "If Ethel is all you need, then let's cut ties. For good."

My parents stared for a moment, then let out dismissive laughs.

"A cripple making threats now? Fine. Cut ties. Just don't come crawling back to us in tears."

"That's right. We'll be living the good life with Ethel. Don't you dare come sniffing around for handouts!"

But Ethel was studying me, something calculating behind her eyes. A slow, chilling smile crept across her lips. "If we're cutting ties, let's make it permanent. I don't want this cripple clinging to me like a stray dog begging for scraps after I marry Logan and become Mrs. Stephens."

She raised her hand and drew a finger across her throat.

My parents went rigid. "No!" they said, almost in unison.

I blinked, and despite everything, something complicated stirred in my chest. Even with all their favoritism, when it came down to life and death, they still cared about me...

"Murder carries a death sentence!"

"If Abigail dies, so be it, but killing her would land us in prison too!"

The faint warmth that had kindled inside me went cold in an instant.

They weren't worried about me. They were worried about themselves.

Ethel waved it off. "What does it have to do with us? She's a cripple. Nobody would think twice if she killed herself out of despair, right?"

"Back when I was hiding from debt collectors, I saw people off themselves all the time when they hit rock bottom. Nobody ever investigated. Relax."

Sympathy flooded my parents' eyes, but not for me. "Oh, Ethel, you've had it so rough. But better days are ahead now."

The tenderness in their gazes, set against the coldness they'd shown me moments ago, was a stark contrast.

It was like a blade, severing the last thread of hope I'd been clinging to.

"Why?"

The word ripped out of me, raw and shattered.

"All these years, you've only ever cared about Ethel. And now you want me dead. How can you be this heartless? What did I ever do wrong?"

My breakdown only made them recoil in disgust.

My father barked, "What kind of attitude is that? All these years, even a dog would know to wag its tail and show some gratitude. You're nothing but a cripple now. What right do you have to bark at us?"

My mother wavered slightly. "Abigail may have her faults, but she's still your sister. Do we really have to go that far?"

Ethel's expression twisted with venom. "Yes, we do! Our whole lives, she's lorded it over me. Everything she did was better, everything she had was more. Before, she was at least useful as my personal ATM, so I put up with it. But I'm about to rise to the top, and she's nothing but dead weight now. If I don't settle this score while I can, what, am I supposed to let her stick around and dirty my shoes?"

"Mom, Dad, didn't you just say you'd do anything for me? Well, I want her dead. Right now!"

It was still a human life, after all. Our parents hesitated, unable to commit.

But Ethel's expression twisted into something unhinged. "Once Logan and I are married, imagine the headlines: 'CEO's wife has a crippled sister.' That kind of negative press could tank the stock price. What if he divorces me over it? We're talking about the entire Stephens Group!"

That was all it took. Our parents' eyes hardened, filling with a cold resolve.

For Ethel's sake. For wealth and status. They were actually going to kill me.

But I didn't have time to grieve. All I wanted was to survive.

I was alone, injured, and no match for three people.

Run.

The thought barely formed before Mom locked her arms around my waist. Dad and Ethel each seized a limb, dragging me toward the window.

Half my body hung over the ledge of the sixteenth floor. Freezing wind howled up and tore through my collar.

I was seconds from being shoved over when Mom let out a sharp gasp.

"Wait! There's a patrol car right below us!"

"The officers are already out of the car. If we drop her now, it'll look suspicious!"

They hauled me back inside in a panic.

Ethel glanced down at the street, her expression dark, but she refused to give up.

"Then we move her. The bathroom faces north. Nobody will see her fall from that side. What are you standing around for? You want to wait until the police come upstairs and let Abigail tell them we tried to kill her?"

Our parents caved again.

My heart, still hammering from the near-death seconds before, seized all over again.

Too many disappointments had piled up over the years. I'd long since stopped hoping for anything from this family. If I wanted to survive, I had to prove I was worth more alive.

"Stop! Mr. Stephens is in love with me. He said he wants to marry me! If you kill me, someone with his resources will uncover the truth. And when he does, none of you will escape."

Mom and Dad froze mid-step, their grip loosening instinctively.

Ethel slapped me across the face. "Shut your lying mouth! Logan is in love with me!"

"Who could love a gambling addict?" I shot back without flinching. Seeing the doubt creep across our parents' faces, I forced a conciliatory tone. "Mom, Dad, I know you weren't thinking clearly. If you stop now, I'm willing to share the good fortune with all of you. We're family, after all."

"If you don't believe me, I'll call Mr. Stephens right now and prove it."

That broke them. They wavered completely.

"Ethel," Dad said, uncertain. "Maybe we should let her make the call."

Mom had already retrieved my phone, holding it out. "Go ahead, then..."

Crack.

Ethel snatched the phone and hurled it at the floor. It shattered into pieces.

"So what if I gamble?" she snarled. "Once I have that ten million, I'll pay off every debt. I'll be a clean slate. Logan loves me. Abigail is just stalling for time! Hurry up and finish this before the police knock on the door!"

While our parents stood frozen with indecision, I inched toward the door. Ethel spotted me and drove her foot into my lower abdomen.

The wound tore open. I doubled over, drenched in cold sweat, but I forced the words through clenched teeth. "You're scared, Ethel. That's what this is. You keep saying Mr. Stephens loves you. Where's the proof? Mom, Dad, stop her. If I die, Mr. Stephens will never let you walk free."

My conviction made them waver again.

That was when Ethel, looking like she'd reached her absolute limit, pulled out her phone and tapped the screen.

"I didn't want to show this, but fine. Watch this video. Then tell me you don't believe me."

A wave of obscene sounds filled the room.

Her parents watched with wide eyes, their faces lit up with delight.

"I believe it now! The Mr. Stephens on TV looks exactly like that!"

"Our Ethel really came through! They've already slept together. If he's not going to marry you, who else would he marry?"

I felt as though lightning had struck me. I couldn't believe a single word of it.

Impossible. Absolutely impossible!

Only one thought consumed me now: I had to get out of here. I had to survive. I had to find out the truth.

Bang, bang, bang.

"Police! Open the door!"

"Hel"

Ethel clamped her hand over my mouth and hissed under her breath.

"Hurry! If we don't do it now, she'll report us to the police and none of us will get off easy!"

My parents didn't hesitate any longer. The three of them hoisted me up together.

To make sure I couldn't fight back, Ethel raised her knee and slammed it into my lower abdomen again.

My scream was smothered against her palm. The pain was so blinding I nearly blacked out, every last ounce of resistance draining from my body.

BANG.

The door was kicked open, but it wasn't just the police who rushed in. Logan was there too, flanked by a wall of bodyguards.

In the split second they shoved me out the window, I saw Logan lunge toward me, panic written across his face.