Adopted-Brother Became Billionaire Husband

Emma turns around. The pouring rain fogs up the night, obscuring her view. Water drips down the messy hair of a young man who catches up to her, panting for breath.

"Emma Hawthorne," he says between breaths, "what if I don't want to be your younger brother anymore?"

Emma's heart pounds. "Haha, you mean you want to be my older brother instead?"

"Cut that out," Winston scoffs, tilting his head and looking at Emma fiercely. "You really don't know what I meant?" He steps closer, forcing her back until she's against the wall.

"I... I..." Winston's handsome face appears right in front of her, his deep eyes seeking hers, demanding an answer.

Emma looks away from Winston's passionate gaze. "I...I am not sure if YOU know what you meant."

"Will this show you?" Winston suddenly grabs Emma's wrists, raises them above her head, pins them against the wall, and leans in to find her lips.

Emma's heart feels like it's about to leap from her chest. She curls her toes and slightly closes her eyes.

The voice in her head rumbles, "Ahhh it's coming, it's coming. No way, Winston is really going to kiss me." She can't distinguish between her nervousness and joy.

Emma tries to steady her rapid breathing and subtly gets on her tippy toes to welcome the kiss.

"Bang!" "Ah!", followed by splashing sounds.

The loud noise startles Emma's eyes wide open. Winston's weight drops into her arms—he's fallen onto her!

"Winston?" Winston's head nods down. Emma holds his head, trying to see his face. His hair is wet from the rain, but Emma feels something sticky on her hands—a strong smell of metal mixed with the vapor of the rain invades her nostrils.

"Winston? Winston!! Help!! Somebody help!!!"

She looks up for help, only to see a silhouette with a baseball bat approaching her, raising the bat above her head....

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"Ah!" Emma wakes up in horror, gasping, coughing, trying to ground herself in reality. Tears well up in her eyes, and her heart feels tangled. A thought crosses her mind—she might be missing him—but she quickly shakes it away, suffocating any following emotions.

"This again," she murmurs to herself.

Emma takes a deep breath and swiftly gets out of bed. She's had this dream before and has learned to shove it away, to suppress it.

Three years ago, the summer before she starts college, Winston, her adopted younger brother, confessed his love for her. Emma agreed to give it a try. But the next day, Winston left, leaving a note: "You have a wonderful life ahead of you. Please forget about me." She hasn't seen him since.

She goes to her desk to pack her backpack for the day. A black and white picture of Emma's parents stands on the desk, engraved with the years 1970-2009.

After her morning routine, she chooses an outfit. All of Emma's clothes are slightly oversized. She has a curvy and attractive body, which naturally presents an air of innocence and calmness. But when she smiles, her eyes squint a bit, and combined with the curl of her eyebrow, there's often an undertone of seduction—not that she intends it; it's just her natural look.

Growing up, Emma developed early, the first in her class to need a bra. Due to her appearance, boys often teased her, seeking her attention. She started dressing in a boyish style to hide her feminine vibe and acted tough and strong, keeping harassment at bay and even helping other kids who were bullied. That's how she met...

Emma stops her thoughts. Being a senior year pharmacology student is a lot of work. She has several reports due and exams coming. After Winston left, she moved to Boston by herself, immersing herself in studying to distract from her memories. The days were manageable with lectures and activities, but sleepless nights often felt like memories gnawing at her brain. Thankfully, she's made it this far without losing her mind, and now she's in her last semester.

Growing up, Emma dreamed of going to medical school and becoming a doctor. But the only money she has is from her parents' life insurance after their death, meant to support her entire life. Medical school doesn't fit into the budget.

She puts on a jacket and heads out to her lab. Boston in January greets her with bright sunlight, but the wind brings a bone-chilling coldness.

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Chloe and Ethan both turn to see Emma as she walks into the lab.

Chloe, also a senior student, seems to have a close relationship with the professor who runs this lab. Always dressed in fashionable attire, complete with designer bags and jewelry, she exudes an air of sophistication. Yet, her demeanor is outgoing, talkative, and straightforward.

Ethan, a third-year biology student, is quiet and hardworking. He's easy to work with but isn't much of a talker.

"How's it going, Emma?" Chloe asks cheerfully.

"Not too bad. Finished my essay last night, but there's more to come," Emma replies, maintaining a nonchalant tone to mask her inner turmoil.

"Wow, that's great!" Chloe exclaims, turning to Ethan. "See that? That's a dean's list student for you!"

Ethan smiles at Emma, acknowledging her accomplishment.

Chloe continues, "Ugh, I still have that interview for my grad school application. How about you, Emma? How's the job hunt going?"

"It's challenging. Undergraduate students can't really compete with those with master's degrees," Emma says candidly.

"So true..." Chloe murmurs, glancing back at her monitor as the conversation seems to wind down.

Suddenly, Chloe's eyes light up. "Oh my god, Emma, I almost forgot! When I went home for New Year's, my uncle mentioned a possible opening in his lab. I told him about you, and he said he'd be willing to interview you!"

"Really? Are they still looking for someone?" Emma asks, intrigued by the prospect.

Emma lives in a modest three-bedroom student rental with a shared bathroom and kitchen, striving to live frugally. A paid research assistant position could provide much-needed financial stability.

Chloe frowns, typing a message on her phone. "Hmm, I haven't checked in with him recently. Let me text him now."

"Wow, Chloe, I really appreciate this!" Emma responds, gratitude evident in her voice.

"Not a problem!" Chloe says, her fingers flying over the phone's keyboard.

Ethan, looking up from his notebook, asks, "Which lab is it?"

Chloe answers, "Just an independent lab. They work on vaccines and stuff, I think... Oh, my uncle just replied."

Chloe continues, "Tsk, the PI can meet you, but he's leaving for a conference this afternoon. You'd have to meet him before 11."

"But it's already 9:30. How far is it?" Ethan asks, concern evident in his voice.

Emma catches Chloe giving Ethan a subtle, rolling eye before she switches back to her usual relaxed demeanor. "Well, it's in Newton. If you leave now, you might just make it."

"That's about 45 minutes away by bus. I can drive you there, Emma," Ethan offers. "I wanted to check out a restaurant in Newton anyway. We could grab lunch after your interview."

Before Emma can reply, Chloe interjects, "Dr. Jones wanted us to run a couple of participants for the pilot study today. Ethan and I can cover for you if you want to go now."

Ethan looks slightly confused.

Emma considers for a moment before agreeing, "Okay, I'll go now. Could you text me the address, Chloe? Thanks again!"

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Emma arrives at the interview location, a quiet residential neighborhood. She notices a distinctive three-story old building, standing out with two mini vans parked in front. She takes a photo of the building and sends it to Chloe, asking, "Is this it?" Chloe's reply is uncertain: "I don't know. I've never been there. If the address matches, then it should be."

Emma walks up to the tall. heavy-looking front door. As she opens the door, a yellow barricade stops her. She is greeted by a man who asks, "Are you Emma? Here for the PI interview?" Before she can fully reply, the man lifts the barricade, gesturing for her to enter.

As Emma steps through, she's suddenly grabbed by the arm and pulled outside with force, almost tripping.

She's pushed into a black Bentley parked by the curb. Between the pushing and the car's rapid starting Emma finds herself falling left and right. As she adjusts to a sitting position, she realizes the man who grabbed her is also inside.

Looking up in fear and confusion, she's met with a face all too familiar.

What? Could it be? No way...is that...Winston? But he's been gone for almost four years.

She observes the changes in Winston, noting the defined jawline and a hint of a beard. His luxurious gray suit accentuates his muscular build, making him look formidable, a far cry from the little brother who used to hide behind her.

Feeling her gaze, Winston clears his throat and asks urgently, yet with a hint of accusation, "I thought you were in the lab today. Why did you come here?"

His voice pierces Emma's heart, reviving a storm of emotions. She had dreamt of hearing his voice again, rehearsed countless scenarios of their reunion, but now, words elude her. Part of her wants to reach out, to close the gap of years and hurt with a single embrace. But the hurt, the betrayal, the abandonment., holds her back.

It is like a burnt victim applying medication on their exposed wounds -- they need it but it hurts like hell.

Not getting a response from Emma, Winston starts to feel uneasy. He clears his throat a little bit and says carefully :"Did you...really forget about me?"

Forget about me.. forget about me.....These are the words in the notes Winston left before he disappeared...Tears start to gather in her eyes.

"Weren't you the one who told me to forget about you?" Emma replies, her voice breaking with a mix of sobbing and anger.

Winston's eyes soften as he notices the sadness in Emma's voice. He wishes he can hug her, console her and tell her he never stopped thinking about her. But what right does he have to be the man beside her?

Winston shifts uncomfortably, a look of regret and resolve battling across his face. "It's complicated, Emma. There are things you don't know, dangers I couldn't expose you to.

Before Emma can respond, the car slows to a stop. An intercom voice announces, "Mr. Sterling, we've arrived."

Emma looks surprised. 'Mr. Sterling?' Winston was always Sanderson. Who is Sterling?

Winston, hesitating, reaches out as if to touch her, then pulls back. "There's a lot I need to explain," he says softly. "But first, let's ensure you're safe."

Emma gets to the interview location. It is a quite residential neighborhood. She sees a three-story old building that looks like a small lecture hall. What makes it stands out more is the two mini vans parked in front. She takes a picture of the building, sends to Chloe asking "is this it?" Chloe replies:" I don't know. I have never been there. If the address is correct, then it should be the one."

A man comes up and asks" Are you Emma?". Emma nodded and says:"yes, I am here to meet with the PI for an interview..."

Become she finishes, the man lifting up the barriercode, gesturing Emma to come in and says:" Come on in."

Just as Emma goes through the barriercode, someone grabbed her left arm and pulls her to the outside.

The man uses so much force that Emma almost tripped over.

He pushes Emma to a black Bentley that is parted by the curb out of the blue, opens the back door and shovels her in.

Emma falls on to the back seat, and falls backward again as the car suddenly starts rapidly.

She adjusts to a sitting position, and realizes the man that grabbed her is here too.

She looks up in fear and confusion, only to see a face that is so familiar to her.

What? Could it be? No way...is that....Winston? NO, NOT POSSIBLE! He's been gone for almost 4 years.

She glances at Winston, taking in the changes time have etched on his features. The shape of his eye, nose, lips have not changed much. His jaw line has become more defined. Although he has shaved, a little scrub of beard is coming out. His luxurious gray suit brings out the muscles in his arm and shoulder. He looks so familiar but so formidable.

He's not the little brother who hinds behind her when he gets into trouble anymore. He's become a real man.

Feeling her gaze, Winston clears his throat a little bit and asks in an urgent and blaming tone :"I thought you are in the lab today. Why did you come here?"

Winston's voice gets into Emma's ears and shoots straight into her heart. A tumult of emotions start to swirl within her.

For years, she has been dreaming to hear this voice again. For years, she has rehearsed what she might say or do if she ever saw Winston again, but now, words eludes her.

Part of her wants to reach out, to close the gap of years and hurt with a single embrace. But the hurt, the betrayal, the abandonment., holds her back. It is like a burnt victim applying medication on their exposed wounds -- they need it but it hurts like hell. The mixture of surprise, anger, and aching longing renders her momentarily speechless.

Not getting a response from Emma, Winston starts to feel uneasy. He clears his throat a little bit and says carefully :"Did you...really forget about me?"

Forget about me.. forget about me.....

These are the words in the notes Winston left before he disappeared...

Tears start to gather in her eyes.

"Weren't you the one who told me to forget about you?" Emma's voice is mixed with sobbing.

Winston's eyes soften as he notices the sadness in Emma's voice. He wishes he can hug her, console her and tell her he never stopped thinking about her. But what right does he have to be the man beside her?

Winston shifts uncomfortably, a look of regret and resolve battling across his face. "It's complicated, Emma. There are things you don't know, dangers I couldn't expose you to."

Before Emma can respond, the car slowed to a stop. A voice appears in the intercom system and says:"Mr. Sterling, we are here."

Emma looks surprised and confused. Mr. Sterling? That's not Winston's last name. Emma's parents adopted Winston when he was 9 after his grandfather passed away. Winston had never since his parents before. But Winston's last name was Sanderson. Who's Sterling？

Winston's hand, still hesitant, reaches out as if to touch her, but he pulled back. "There's a lot I need to explain.", he says, his voice low. "let's make sure your are safe first."

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As the Bentley's doors swing open, Emma and Winston are immediately met by doctors in full biohazard suits. The scene is surreal, The stark white of the suits contrasts sharply against the dimly lit entrance of the hospital,.

The doctors usher them inside with swift, urgent movements. The tension in their steps is palpable, adding to the sense of alarm. The hospital has been transformed into a decontamination zone. Bright lights flood the area, and the air fills with a faint, clinical scent.

A doctor, her voice muffled by the suit's mask, directs them to a sealed chamber for decontamination. "Please remove all clothing and personal items," she instructs firmly. "You will be provided with clean garments afterward." Emma, complying, feels exposed and vulnerable in the cold, mist-filled chamber. Emma glances at Winston, trying to read his reaction, but his expression is hidden behind a stoic facade. The reality of a potential pathogen exposure sinks in deeply.

Once the decontamination process is complete, they are each handed a set of hospital clothes, and put in an isolation ward. In the isolation room, the doctor begins a series of tests – blood samples, swabs, and a series of questions about symptoms and recent contacts. The questions are methodical, clinical, and impersonal, heightening the sense of unease. Emma feels like a specimen under a microscope, her privacy and normalcy stripped away.

Winston undergoes the same tests, remaining silent throughout the process. His occasional glances at Emma are heavy with concern and unspoken secrets.

As the doctor leaves the room, sealing them inside, Emma sits on the edge of the sterile hospital bed, her mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. The surrealness of the situation, the cold efficiency of the biohazard response, and the uncertainty of what is happening to them create an overwhelming sense of dread.

Winston walks to Emma, his voice low, "May I?" while gesturing to sit beside her.

Emma nods quietly. She stares at the white cool hospital wall. Warning signs adorn the doors and walls: 'Biohazard - Authorized Personnel Only,' 'Isolation Ward,' 'No Entry Without Protective Gear.'

Everything here looks so distant - including Winston.

Winston...Emma turns to look at him. Sweat gathers on his forehead, dripping down along his temple. Almost by instinct, Emma raises her arm, trying to wipe away the sweat with her sleeve. Winston catches Emma's wrist before she can touch him.

Winston's piercing eyesight shoots above their entangled arms, and lands on Emma's enticing, innocent eyes. This is the first time Winston looks directly into her eyes since they met again. He is using all his energy to stop himself from pulling her into his arms.

Emma is startled by Winston's move. She looks at the hand that is grabbing her arm and suddenly notices a faint scar along his wrist – a scar she doesn't remember him having.

"Winston, what happened to you?"