Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - An Unexpected Visit and a Brother's Plea

The scorching heat in my bedroom was unbearable. I tossed and turned on my sweat-soaked sheets, desperately trying to get comfortable. The air conditioner remote had been malfunctioning for days, but I'd stubbornly avoided asking Sterling for help.

"This is ridiculous," I muttered, throwing off the thin sheet covering me.

My tank top clung to my damp skin as I sat up and glared at the useless remote on my nightstand. Three days into my stay at Sterling's mansion, and I was already miserable. The fancy guest room felt like a sauna, and I couldn't take it anymore.

Pride be damned—I needed a functioning air conditioner.

I padded barefoot down the hallway toward Sterling's bedroom. The house was eerily quiet; Mrs. Reed had left hours ago. My heart pounded harder with each step I took toward his door. I hadn't willingly sought Sterling out since arriving here.

I raised my hand to knock but paused when I realized the door was slightly ajar. Against my better judgment, I pushed it open.

"Sterling?" I called softly, peering into the dimly lit room.

No answer.

I hesitated at the threshold, debating whether to enter. Sterling's bedroom was forbidden territory—a space I'd deliberately avoided. But the thought of another sleepless night in that heat pushed me forward.

His room was exactly what I'd expected—masculine and meticulously organized. Dark hardwood floors contrasted with charcoal walls. A massive bed dominated the space, its black sheets perfectly made. The entire room smelled of his cologne—that intoxicating scent that always made me feel things I shouldn't.

"Just find another remote and get out," I whispered to myself.

I spotted his desk in the corner and headed toward it, figuring it might be a good place to start looking. As I passed a partially open door that I assumed led to his closet, something caught my eye. I froze.

On the wall inside hung a large portrait—a painting of a naked woman reclining on a bed, her face turned slightly away. My blood ran cold as I realized the woman's hair was the exact same shade as mine, her body type eerily similar to my own.

"What the hell?" I breathed, stepping closer.

"Aurora?"

I jumped at the sound of Sterling's voice, whirling around to face him. He stood in the doorway of his bathroom, water droplets glistening on his bare chest, a towel wrapped precariously low around his hips. His hair was wet, slicked back from his forehead.

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered, backing away from the closet. "I didn't know you were—I just needed—"

My eyes betrayed me, trailing down his torso—the defined muscles, the water droplets tracing paths down his abs, disappearing beneath the towel. I forced myself to look away, heat flooding my face.

"The air conditioner in my room," I blurted out. "The remote isn't working, and I thought maybe you had a spare or could fix it somehow."

Sterling's expression softened slightly, his lips curving into a small smile.

"Mine," he said softly, using the pet name he'd called me since childhood. Once, it had been comforting. Now, it carried different weight—possessive, unsettling.

He crossed the room to his nightstand and pulled open a drawer, retrieving a remote that looked identical to mine. "The remotes sometimes need recalibration. Here."

I reached for it, careful to avoid touching his fingers.

"Thank you," I mumbled, clutching the remote like a lifeline. "I'll just go now."

"Wait." His voice stopped me as I turned to leave. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

I stared at the floor. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Aurora." His tone was firm, commanding. "Look at me when I speak to you."

Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to meet his. The intensity I found there made me shiver despite the room's warmth.

"Three days under my roof, and you've barely said ten words to me," he said. "You eat dinner in silence. You leave for work before I come downstairs. You lock yourself in your room the moment you return."

"I've been tired," I lied. "The internship is demanding."

Sterling took a step toward me. I took one back.

"Is it because of what happened at the charity event?" he asked, his voice lower now. "Because of what I did to that man?"

My heart stuttered. We hadn't spoken about the murder since that night. The Alpha command he'd placed on me prevented me from telling anyone, but it didn't stop the nightmares.

"You killed him," I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them.

"I protected you," he countered. "He wanted to hurt you."

"He was just talking to me!"

"He was a threat," Sterling said, his voice hardening. "Anyone who tries to take you from me is a threat."

The possessiveness in his words sent a chill down my spine. This was why I'd been avoiding him—this toxic ownership he claimed over me.

"I'm not yours to protect like that," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "What you did was wrong."

Sterling's jaw tightened. He moved closer, and this time when I stepped back, I felt the wall behind me. He placed one hand against the wall next to my head, effectively caging me in.

"Everything I've ever done has been for you," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Since the day our parents married, I've made it my mission to keep you safe."

The nearness of him—half-naked, still damp from his shower, his masculine scent overwhelming my senses—made it hard to think clearly.

"The way you look at me now," he continued, "with fear in your eyes—it kills me, Aurora. That's not how it used to be between us."

A drop of water fell from his hair onto my shoulder, making me flinch.

"We used to be close," he murmured. "You used to run to me with your problems, not away from me."

His words stirred memories I'd tried to bury—Sterling teaching me to ride a bike, Sterling threatening boys who'd pulled my hair in school, Sterling holding me while I cried after my first heartbreak at fifteen.

"That was before," I whispered.

"Before what?" His face was inches from mine now.

"Before you changed." I forced the words out. "Before you started treating me like... like I was your property instead of your sister."

Something flickered in Sterling's eyes—hurt, maybe, or anger. He pulled back slightly.

"I never wanted to frighten you," he said. "Everything I've done—the internship, bringing you here—it was to keep you close, to protect you."

"From what?" I asked.

"From a world that would hurt you." His fingers gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "From men who would use you and discard you."

The tenderness of the gesture confused me. This was the Sterling I remembered from childhood—protective but gentle, fierce but loving.

"I miss my brother," I admitted, my voice barely audible. "The one who made me feel safe, not scared."

Sterling's expression softened. "He's still here, Mine. I'm still that person."

He stepped back, giving me space, and the absence of his heat was both a relief and a strange disappointment.

"Get some rest," he said. "The remote should work now."

I nodded, clutching the device to my chest as I moved toward the door. Before leaving, I paused.

"Sterling? That painting in your closet..."

His expression remained neutral. "What about it?"

I wanted to ask why he had a portrait of a naked woman who looked like me, but something in his eyes stopped me.

"Never mind," I mumbled, hurrying out of his room.

Back in my bedroom, I pointed the remote at the air conditioner. It responded immediately, cool air flooding the space. As I lay in bed, my thoughts raced.

Sterling's words kept replaying in my mind. Had I misjudged him? Was his overprotectiveness, even the violence, truly coming from a place of love rather than obsession?

The confused emotions churning inside me made it impossible to sleep. Part of me still feared him—the memory of that dead man's lifeless eyes haunted me. But another part, a part I didn't want to acknowledge, had responded to Sterling's nearness tonight, to his gentle touch and sincere words.

Maybe he hadn't changed as much as I thought. Maybe he was still the caring brother I'd adored growing up, just with a fierceness that sometimes went too far.

As sleep finally began to claim me, I found myself wondering if perhaps I'd been wrong about Sterling all along.