This story began when I was ten years old. My mother died then, and I still remember exactly how shocked my family was. My eyes could only widen as sadness rose inside me. They hugged me tightly that day when the sound of a gunshot rang out.
BANG!
My oldest brother—fourteen-year-old Deyren—shot the man when he realized what was happening, before the man could shoot me too. Don't get me wrong. Deyren had been taught to shoot since he was little and trained hard by his coach, who was also his bodyguard. The killer who murdered my mother died on the spot. They were too late to save my mother, but they managed to save me—the only light in the Allbest family.
"You're safe, sweetheart, but... Dad couldn't save your mother. I'm sorry," Saldon said after letting out a sigh.
The head of the Allbest family, Saldon, knelt down and hugged me as I cried in his arms. Of course, I was shocked and terrified by what had happened. My body trembled as I held back my sobs. After everything was cleaned up, I—Cleo Aressy— the middle child and a gift from God who was always the center of the world's attention.
"Will Big Brother get better, Zeg?" asked the eight-year-old boy to his bodyguard, Zeggost, who was always loyal to his master, including the Allbest family.
"Yes, sir," Zeggost answered briefly.
"Zeg, you're always so expressionless. You're no fun," Werten—the youngest of the Allbest family—said sarcastically.
But even though he was the youngest, that didn't make him spoiled. He was mischievous, easily bored, and strict, which often led him to tease Cleo and make her cry.
It wasn't that they didn't love their mother. The woman had simply been busy with her career for as long as they could remember. She often left the family because she had to do photo shoots overseas at the request of her agency group.
But Cleo was still little and wanted affection from her mother. As for her big brother and little brother? They didn't need it. As long as they could do whatever they wanted, they were happy.
And what made them happy, of course, was teasing Cleo.
Once, Cleo complained about not liking it when all her food was controlled. Sometimes she asked very carefully because she was afraid of waking the hungry lion.
"Mmm... this ice cream is so good. I definitely made the right choice buying it. Hahaha." Cleo walked along cheerfully, occasionally hopping, licking the ice cream stains from her hand even though she had already finished it.
"Looks like I'm safe," she thought.
Without knowing that a storm was about to arrive. Deyren strode toward her, looking hurried, even breathing heavily.
His face looked tense and, well... a little frightening for an eleven-year-old boy.
Without warning, Deyren roughly yanked Cleo's hand.
"Ow... that hurts!" Caught off guard, Cleo flinched and squeezed her eyes shut as a pained whimper escaped her mouth. When she opened them, her eyes widened in shock. Why did it have to be Big Brother Deyren? she screamed inwardly.
"What did you eat, Cleo?" Deyren stared sharply at her, locking eyes with his little sister.
Cleo turned her face away under his stare, not wanting to look at her brother.
"I-I didn't eat anything. I only, um... I only had soup earlier. Yeah, soup!"
Deyren didn't believe her so easily. He roughly pulled his sister's hand toward his nose and sniffed it. He faintly caught the familiar scent of strawberries, and his brows furrowed displeasedly.
"You really do love lying, don't you? Let's see how long you can keep lying to me." Without waiting for her agreement, Deyren pulled Cleo along toward the place where he had seen an ice cream truck.
"Big Brother, it hurts... shh, please go slower."
Cleo tried to match Deyren's pace, though she stumbled every now and then.
"Shut up." Cleo's courage instantly disappeared. Trembling, she lowered her head.
"Sir, did this child buy ice cream from you earlier?" Deyren asked, ignoring the panicked Cleo, who was afraid of being found out.
"Which child? Oh, this one? She seems to like my ice cream. You should buy her ice cream more often. She already ate three servings earlier, haha."
"Three?" Deyren growled, ignoring the man's joke.
Deyren looked at Cleo, who lowered her head even farther and nervously clenched the hem of her shirt. A chill immediately enveloped her.
"Yes... she even ordered the jumbo size. Such a sweet little girl." The man clearly had no idea that his words would bring a huge storm down on the house later.
"All right. Thank you, sir."
Before the man could say anything else, Deyren yanked Cleo's wrist even harder than before. Not daring to resist, Cleo thought it was sure to bruise.
When they reached the mansion, Deyren never once loosened his tight grip on Cleo's hand. Instead, he took her to the living room, where Dad was.
"Big Brother, let go! I don't want to go in there! Stop..." Cleo tried to free her hand. She knew where Deyren was taking her—to face an even bigger storm. Panicking, she struggled, though it felt pointless.
"No. Dad needs to know what his favorite child has done."
Oh, come on, this hurt so much. Cleo felt like her hand was about to break.
"What are you two doing?"
Hearing the commotion faintly from a distance, Saldon had to lift his head from his laptop screen. The thirty-year-old man turned around.
With glasses perched on his nose, a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the top buttons slightly open, he didn't look old at all. If anything, he looked like a distinguished man in his twenties. Maybe if he remarried, he could have four wives.
Deyren didn't answer. Instead, he roughly shoved Cleo, sending her sprawling onto the sofa beside their father.
"Dad, you need to know what she did," Deyren answered flatly.
"Hmm? What did you do?" Saldon raised one brow and stared intently at Cleo.
Sitting beside Saldon, Cleo squeezed the hem of her shirt and bit her lower lip. She stared at the floor as though it were far more interesting than looking at her father.
"I-I, um... ate ice cream. Just a little," Cleo squeaked, still loud enough for Saldon to hear.
Saldon grabbed the back of Cleo's hair and forced her to look into his eyes until their faces were quite close.
"Aahh, Dad!"
"Stick out your tongue." Cleo was confused, but she did it anyway.
"How much?"
"What?"
"How much did you eat, Cleo?" Saldon's gaze sharpened as he didn't loosen his grip on her hair for even a moment.
"Only... three." Cleo's voice grew quieter at the end, but Saldon and Deyren could still hear her.
"With jumbo cups," Deyren added.
That provoked Saldon's anger. Three ice creams in jumbo cups? Wasn't that a bit excessive?
"So you've been disobeying me behind my back? Huh?!" Saldon tightened his grip, making Cleo wince in pain.
"Aahh, Dad, I'm sorry. Stop... i-it hurts. Sob..." Cleo sobbed as her father refused to let go.
Deyren merely watched with his usual blank expression, unconcerned by Cleo's pained whimpers. It was her fault, after all.
"What should happen to a naughty child, Cleo?" Saldon hissed.
Cleo couldn't answer. It really hurt.
"Answer me." As if he had no feelings, he pulled her hair even tighter.
"Aahh! Pu-punishment, Dad!" Cleo answered quickly.
"Good—"
Saldon roughly released his grip, making Cleo stagger backward.
"You're grounded. Don't leave your room, and don't come complaining to me if your stomach hurts later." With that final word, Saldon stood and left them. Before he went, he said to Deyren,
"Keep an eye on her."
And here Cleo was. After Deyren took her to her room, she heard the door lock from the outside.
At 9:20 p.m., Cleo hadn't touched any of the food the maid had brought her. She clutched her stomach tightly when a sudden pain struck. It felt like her stomach was cramping, as if she were being stabbed with a knife.
"Ugh, it hurts!" she complained, rolling around on her king-size bed and roughly clutching the sheets.
Sweat began to break out, and she even felt nauseated. But then she remembered her father's words.
Don't come complaining to me.
She immediately took her cell phone from the nightstand beside her bed. Of course, she had been given a phone, but within reasonable limits—and she was still monitored.
She tapped the contact labeled Mom.
Beep...
Click.
Her sweaty hand weakly held the phone.
"Hello, sweetheart. What's wrong?" a gentle voice answered from the other end.
"Mom... sob... it hurts," she complained in a hoarse voice.
"What happened to you?" Hearing her mother, Amira, made Cleo feel a little calmer. Her mother was the only sane one in situations like this.
"Did they treat you roughly? Huh? They're always like that. Mom doesn't have much time and can't come there, but I'll call your dad and tell him you're sick."
"You don't have to—"
Before Cleo could finish speaking, her mother had already hung up.
Not long afterward, several maids and a doctor entered. That fast? Yes, because Deyren had been monitoring her through the CCTV the whole time.
"Sir, you need to take your medicine and get an injection," one of the maids said.
"N-no! I don't want to!" Cleo shouted weakly. Taking medicine was fine, but she absolutely refused to get an injection.
"All right. Just take the medicine, sir," the maid said.
Already in pain, Cleo gave in when they sat her up to take the medicine. She accepted it without resisting, and after a few seconds, the pain eased slightly, leaving only an ache in her stomach.
"That's enough. Leave," Cleo said, dismissing everyone in the room. The maids exchanged glances before quickly restraining Cleo so she couldn't move.
"We're sorry, sir. This is an order."
"What are you doing?! Let me go!" Cleo struggled when she realized they were going to inject her.
And just as the needle pierced her hand, she slowly lost consciousness. The maids and doctor left the room after finishing their work, leaving their young master asleep.
Watching through the CCTV, Deyren smiled crookedly.
"What a naughty little sister."