Marrying My Fake Lover's Sister
Chau · Completed · 6.5k Words
Introduction
When she said the cheerleaders were ganging up on her, I charged in and took the punches for her.
When she cried that her stepsister would ruin her at Yale, I tore up my acceptance letter right then and there.
When she held me tight in the middle of the night and whispered, "I'm so lucky to have you"—I thought it meant forever.
Three months later, I overheard her laughing in the locker room—laughing at me.
"Ian's like a lapdog. So easy to play. Now that Yale spot's open, Emmett can go with me instead."
The bullying was staged. The tears were fake. Those intimate embraces? Just tools to control me—to keep me loyal while she slept with her side piece.
She thought I'd still take a punch for her, even with a broken nose.
She thought I'd never wake up.
I'm awake now.
In her stepsister Serena's bed.
Chapter 1
"You faked being bullied for months just to get rid of Ian? That's cold, girl!"
The sound of laughter echoed from the women's lacrosse team locker room.
My hand, clutching the state university acceptance letter, froze outside the door. The paper was crumpled in my sweaty palm.
"What choice did I have?" Lia's voice was smug. "He was so clingy and controlling—it was suffocating. I had to do something."
My heart felt like it was being squeezed to death.
Three months ago, Lia—my childhood friend, the girl I'd secretly loved for years—had tearfully told me she was being bullied on the team. Ice water dumped on her in the locker room, being tripped during practice, forced to drink until she threw up at sorority parties.
"Ian, I can't go to Yale," she'd sobbed, shaking in my arms that night. "My stepsister's friends are all there. They'll destroy me for being the illegitimate daughter. I'll never survive."
My heart broke for her. I held her hand and made a decision: "Then we won't go to Yale. I'll go to State with you."
"So where are you really going?" a teammate asked now.
"Yale," Lia said brightly. "With Emmett. Once Ian gives up his spot, my dad will pull some strings to get Emmett in. We'll be together at Yale."
Emmett White—that transfer student who acted so helpless.
I thought he was just a friend. Turns out, he was the one she really wanted. I was just dead weight she needed to cut loose.
"You went through all this for Emmett? That's true love!" someone teased.
"Of course," Lia's voice softened. "Emmett is gentle. He doesn't suffocate me like Ian does. And he actually admires me—doesn't lecture me all the time. Ian acts like he's some Vanderbilt heir who can tell me what to do."
My throat tightened. I could barely breathe.
"But Ian gave up Yale for you," another teammate said. "The Vanderbilts have gone to Yale for three generations. He's basically turning his back on his family."
"That was his choice," Lia said dismissively. "I never asked him to. Besides, he should've given up that spot anyway. Emmett needs Yale more—his family has nothing. This is his only shot. Ian? He could skip college and still be set for life. What does he have to worry about?"
I gritted my teeth until I tasted blood. The metallic tang kept me grounded.
"What if Ian finds out?"
"He was easy to fool." Lia laughed. "Besides, so what if he does? He'll forgive me. He always does. Remember that time in the parking lot? Three frat guys harassing me, and he jumped in front without hesitation. Got his nose broken, blood everywhere—never backed down. You really think a guy like that would ever leave me?"
The locker room erupted in harsh laughter. Each laugh felt like a slap.
I remembered that afternoon in the parking lot—the long shadows, how I'd rushed to shield her. When fists connected with my face, all I'd thought was: Don't let her get hurt. My nose throbbed, blood filled my mouth, but I swallowed it and stood my ground.
Afterward, Lia had clung to me, crying. "I'm so sorry—this is all my fault."
I'd held my bleeding nose and reassured her: "It's fine. Protecting you is never a question."
Now I knew—those three "frat guys" were probably paid actors too.
Every scar, every tear, every sacrifice—all of it was a joke. I thought I was protecting her. Really, I was just playing my part in her performance.
I leaned against the wall, struggling to breathe, remembering the fight with my brother Gavin two weeks earlier.
"You're giving up Yale for State?" He'd thrown a folder at me. "Ian, what the hell is wrong with you?!"
"Lia needs me!" I'd shouted back, blood trickling down my temple. "I love her—I can't let her go through this alone!"
Gavin had looked at me with pure disappointment. "Throwing your future away for a girl? You'll regret this, Ian."
I took a deep breath now. I didn't storm into the locker room. I turned and walked away.
In the parking lot, I slid into my Porsche, hands shaking as I tore the state university acceptance letter to shreds. Pieces fell like snow—just like my youth, torn apart.
My finger hovered over my phone for a second before I called my brother.
"Ian?" Gavin answered immediately.
"Bro." I closed my dry eyes. My voice was hoarse, unfamiliar even to me. "You were right. I'll take the offer. I'm going to London."
A long silence.
"You sure?"
"Yes." I stared at the darkening sky outside. "More sure than I've ever been about anything."
Gavin took a sharp breath. "I've been waiting to hear that. Everything's already arranged—don't worry about the details. Oh, and I have an old friend in London. She'll look out for you."
I hung up. My screen lit up.
A text from Lia: [Ian, where are you? Great news—there's an amazing Italian place near State! We should go all the time!]
Another: [Also, I heard their lacrosse team is pretty good. You should come watch my games. Can't wait to start college with you!]
Every word felt like a knife twisting deeper.
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