After He Chose Her Sister, I Became His Boss

My head collided with the edge of the desk, causing a concussion and landing me in the hospital. Beckham George was overwhelmed with guilt, repeatedly apologizing in front of both sets of parents.

"Kiana, I'm really sorry. I was too impulsive; I should've handled things better."

"Please, this won't happen again. I truly only see Ruby as a sister. Don't misunderstand."

The George family's business dwarfed the Simmons', and my parents just glanced at me before siding with him.

"It's true. Beckham and Ruby grew up together; they're practically siblings. You're overreacting."

"If you hadn't stepped on Ruby's poster, Beckham wouldn't have hurt you in the chaos."

I lay in bed, my head swimming, unable to speak. All I could do was listen to the cascade of voices, and just like that, the matter was resolved.

After the parents left, Beckham squeezed my hand.

"Trust me, Ruby is only like a sister, no matter how great she seems. You are the one I love."

His sincerity made me start to doubt myself, questioning if I was being overly sensitive and irrational.

Just then, the hospital room door swung open, and Ruby dashed in, camera at the ready, aiming it at me.

"Sis, how are you? I hurried over as soon as I heard you were hurt..."

"I'm sorry, it's my fault. If I hadn't wanted to celebrate my birthday at home, Beckham wouldn't have panicked and hurt you..."

I was never comfortable with her constantly snapping pictures, especially now, when I looked like a wreck.

Beckham saw my discomfort and gestured for Ruby to put the camera away, admonishing me, "Kiana, it's not Ruby's fault. Even if you don't like her, you shouldn't show that on camera."

Ruby's eyes brimmed with tears, streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Sister, I didn't realize you disliked me so much... I'll leave now..."

With that, she spun around and bolted out, with Beckham calling her back, but quickly following her.

A nurse entered the room as I was quietly sobbing. Octavia Reyes watched, puzzled, while wiping away my tears. "Weren't there a bunch of people here just now? Why are you alone now?"

Unable to hold back, I pulled the blanket over my head and cried my heart out.

I spent that Thanksgiving in the hospital while the Simmons and Georges were at the city's largest banquet hall, celebrating Ruby's birthday. Her videos showed a day filled with endless influencers, celebrities, and the elite. She received a flood of gifts and well-wishes, with fans renting mall screens to broadcast worldwide birthday greetings.

All I got was a message from my adoptive parents, far away overseas.

"Nina must be having a fantastic birthday today, right? If you get a chance, send Mom and Dad a video."

But faced with the solitude of the hospital room, all I could muster was a weak "Thank you, Mom and Dad."

A few days later, upon discharge, I learned from the housekeeper that everyone had left for a world tour with Ruby.

Stunned, I texted my parents, who took half a day to respond.

"We forgot to mention; Ruby wanted a world tour, so we're accompanying her."

I called Beckham, who apologized for being too busy to notify me.

"Kiana, we'll be traveling for about six months. Don't worry, I'll bring you back lots of gifts."

"Hang in there, wait for me."

As my disappointment deepened, so did the disdain from the high-society crowd. Once, they pretended to be friendly because I was the Simmons' biological daughter, but now they favored Ruby and openly unleashed their cruelty on me.

They accused me of being a thief and purposely breaking my phone, publicly shaming me for my jealousy towards Ruby, saying I was an embarrassment to the Simmons.

Even the housekeepers played favorites, deciding my parents didn't care about me and collectively taking a six-month vacation.

Initially, I would cry to Beckham, but after a few comforting words, his patience wore thin. I swallowed the bitterness.

Meanwhile, Ruby posted dozens of updates daily on social media, with obligatory group photos.

Two weeks later, the hospital suddenly informed me I had heart disease, and without a transplant, I'd only have six months to live.

With the diagnosis in my hand, I crouched in the hospital hallway, sobbing for a long while.

Once I calmed down, the first person I called was Beckham. As soon as he answered, I spoke through tears, "Beckham, I'm sick. Can you come back and be with me?"

There was a brief pause, followed by a sigh from Beckham.

"Kiana, aren't you a bit too old to be pretending to be sick just for attention?"