Ethan's POV
I was sixteen when I realized my feelings for Olivia weren't normal.
It was a summer afternoon, and I'd just returned from boarding school for the holidays. The moment I walked through the front door, I heard her laughter echoing from the garden—bright, carefree, and utterly captivating.
I found her by the pool, her thirteen-year-old frame stretched out on a lounger, reading one of those romance novels she thought she was hiding so well. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and when she looked up and saw me, her entire face lit up.
"Ethan! You're home!"
She launched herself at me, arms wrapping around my neck. It was innocent, the way she'd hugged me a thousand times before. But this time, something shifted inside me. Something dark and possessive that had no place between siblings.
I caught her easily, my hands settling on her waist, and for a moment—just a brief, stolen moment—I let myself imagine she was mine. Not my little sister. Mine.
"I missed you," she murmured against my shoulder.
You have no idea, I thought, carefully extracting myself from her embrace before my body could betray exactly how much I'd missed her.
"Missed you too, Liv. Now go finish your book. I need to unpack."
I retreated to my room, my heart pounding in a way that felt both exhilarating and utterly wrong.
That evening, Father summoned me to his study.
"Sit down, Ethan."
I took the leather chair across from his massive mahogany desk, the same desk that would one day be mine. Everything in this house would one day be mine.
"You're the man of this family," Father began, his expression stern. "Your mother and I won't be here forever. When we're gone, everything falls to you. The business empire, the properties, the investments... and your sister."
I looked up sharply. "Olivia?"
"Yes. Your mother worries about her constantly. Olivia is... soft. Naive. She'll need someone strong to guide her, to protect her from those who would take advantage of the family name and fortune." He leaned forward, his gaze penetrating. "That responsibility falls to you. Do you understand?"
"I understand, Father."
"Good. She trusts you completely, Ethan. Never betray that trust. Watch over her. Keep her safe. Keep her close."
Keep her close.
Those three words echoed in my mind long after I left his study.
Father had no idea what he'd just given me—permission, justification, a duty-bound excuse to do exactly what I wanted to do anyway.
Olivia was mine to protect. Mine to watch over. Mine to keep close.
Mine.
The next morning, I found her in the breakfast room, still in her pajamas, her hair a messy tangle that somehow made her even more beautiful.
"Morning, sleepyhead," I said, pouring myself coffee.
She yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "I stayed up too late reading."
"That romance trash again?"
Her cheeks flushed pink. "It's not trash! It's... educational."
I raised an eyebrow. "Educational? What exactly are you learning from those books, Olivia?"
"None of your business," she huffed, stabbing at her pancakes.
I shouldn't have found it cute. I shouldn't have wanted to know exactly what fantasies were filling her young mind. But I did.
"You know," I said carefully, taking the seat beside her instead of my usual spot across the table, "if you ever have questions about... anything... you can ask me."
She looked at me, surprise flickering in those dark eyes. "Really?"
"Really. I'm your big brother. It's my job to look out for you."
My job. My duty. My right.
She smiled, and something in my chest tightened painfully. "Thanks, Ethan. You're the best."
No, I wasn't. If she knew what I was thinking, she'd run screaming.
Over the following weeks, I watched her. Studied her. Learned her patterns, her habits, her likes and dislikes. I told myself it was what Father wanted—me being a responsible older brother, keeping her safe.
But deep down, I knew the truth.
I was staking my claim.
When she went to the mall with friends, I drove her there and picked her up, making note of every boy who looked at her too long. When she mentioned a classmate asking for her number, I casually suggested he wasn't good enough for her. When she started developing curves that had no business being on my little sister's body, I made sure she dressed appropriately—for her own protection, of course.
Mother praised my attentiveness. Father nodded approvingly at dinner when I reported on Olivia's activities. They saw a dutiful son taking his responsibilities seriously.
They didn't see the obsession taking root.
The real turning point came at the end of summer, the night before I had to return to boarding school.
There was a family dinner—formal, as always—and Olivia had dressed up in a navy blue dress that made her look far older than thirteen. I couldn't stop staring at her across the table, imagining a future where she sat beside me as my wife, not my sister.
The thought should have horrified me. Instead, it felt inevitable.
After dinner, I found her on the balcony, staring up at the stars.
"You're going to miss me," I said, coming to stand beside her.
She laughed softly. "Your ego is showing."
"Am I wrong?"
Her smile faded, and she looked down at her hands. "No. The house always feels empty when you're gone."
Something fierce and primal surged through me. I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was too intimate for siblings, but she didn't pull away.
"I'll be back for Christmas," I promised. "And I'm only a phone call away if you need anything. Anything at all."
"I know." She leaned into my touch, and I had to force myself not to pull her into my arms and never let go.
"Olivia," I said quietly, my hand still lingering near her face, "promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me you won't grow up too fast while I'm gone. No boyfriends. No dating. You're too young for that nonsense."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not interested in boys anyway. They're all immature."
Good. Keep thinking that.
"Promise me," I insisted.
"Fine, I promise. Happy now?"
"Very."
I let my hand drop, even though every instinct told me to keep touching her, to mark her as mine in some permanent way.
Soon, I told myself. When she's older. When it won't seem so wrong.
I could wait.
I'd already been groomed my entire life to take over everything that belonged to this family. What was a few more years before I claimed the most precious part of my inheritance?
That night, I lay awake in bed, my mind racing.
I was sixteen years old, and I was already planning a future where my little sister would be mine in every way that mattered.
Father had told me to protect her, to keep her close, to watch over her.
He had no idea he'd just given me permission to own her.
And I would. Eventually.
Olivia was mine. She just didn't know it yet.
But she would.
One day, she would.