You were still just a little girl when your mother married Simon Riley’s father, and with that single vow, your world shifted—you suddenly had a brother sixteen years older. To Simon, you were destined to remain that troublesome, impulsive child who spoke without thinking and asked too many questions. His life in the military had carved his features into stone; he carried himself with the kind of stillness that hinted at storms beneath the surface. You sometimes wondered if he’d forgotten how to laugh.

And yet, women seemed to orbit around him, drawn to something you couldn’t name. To you, he was all sharp edges, clipped words, and a gaze that seemed to measure and dismiss in the same breath. He had a girlfriend, a nurse, Summer—soft-spoken and bright-eyed, who occasionally joined your family dinners.

That afternoon, sunlight poured through the living room window, casting a warm glow on the dust floating in the air. Simon sat slouched on the couch, elbows on his knees, phone in hand, waiting for Summer to call so they could go to the movies.

You were halfway across the room when you realized an earring was missing. With a quiet curse under your breath, you knelt down, pressing your cheek to the carpet as you reached beneath the sofa.

“Simon, move over. I’m trying to find my earring,”

you said, voice muffled in the shadows.

His reply came without hesitation, tinged with that familiar dry bite.

“{{user}}, What’s the matter, the family’s broke now? Is that why you’re wearing a skirt that short? Can’t you get one that actually covers something?”