From Trash to Tycoons—My Bro and I Came Back for Blood

My temper flared instantly.

Damn it—curse me all you want, but insult my brother? Not happening!

"Sister," I said with a sneer, "I get that you want to play the protective big sister, but could you at least make up believable nonsense?"

"How is Noah ‘ill-mannered'? Didn't you lose him back then? You're the reason he suffered in an orphanage for years—how dare you lecture him about manners?"

"His young master status was stolen by your precious thief of a brother. What kind of ‘manners' were you expecting from him?"

"Honestly, listening to your talk is painful—do your intestines connect straight to your brain? Even a dung beetle would need to pop open your skull just to check the flavor!"

"If you can't talk like a person, then don't—sit with the dogs instead!"

When I finished my verbal barrage, the entire room went dead silent.

Only my brother grabbed my hand, eyes brimming with tears.

"Bro," he whispered hoarsely, "you're the best!"

Sheila's face turned an impressive shade of blue as her voice cracked with fury. "You—you dared to insult me?!"

"What, can't I? Oh wait—give me a second. I've got more for him too."

I jabbed a finger toward Felix. "And you—stop pretending you're some precious gem. Even a trash bag couldn't contain all that fake sincerity you're spilling!"

"Weren't you ‘feeling unwell' and supposed to be resting? Didn't look that way when you were staging your little suicide act earlier!"

"Let me guess—the only thing making you sick is that Noah is back, and you can't stand not being the only young master anymore, right?"

The boy froze, his face turning pale as I hit the mark. He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off mercilessly.

"Playing sick, faking suicide, trying to stir up trouble—who asked you to atone for anything? You're both young masters now, aren't you? Then why are you the only one acting brain-dead?"

His little face turned white as a sheet, stammering, "Y-you—you—"

I scoffed, "You what? Spit it out! If you stutter, go see a doctor. If you've got brain problems, read a damn book!"

Realizing he couldn't out-talk me, Felix immediately switched back to his trademark pretentious act—soft, tearful, manipulative.

"Noah, I'm sorry... I didn't mean it. I was just scared you'd hate me, that's all..."

Then he turned to me, eyes watery. "Lenon, if you're angry, yell at me. Just don't take it out on Sister or our parents."

There it was again—the same routine.

Honestly, this pretentious boy couldn't even come up with new material.

I was too lazy to keep arguing, so I turned to the dumbstruck rich couple and asked pleasantly, "I heard we'll be in the same class as our little brother?"

They nodded quickly, still in shock.

"Perfect," I said with a smile. "That way we can take care of him more easily. By the way, which room will we be staying in?"

Aunt Mariz immediately led us upstairs.

Felix followed behind, eyes red, pretending to be gracious as he pushed open the door to his own room.

"Brother, if you don't mind, you can stay here. It was originally your room anyway..."

But before we could respond, Sheila rushed over again, blocking the doorway like a guard dog.

"Felix, this room was specially decorated by Mom for you! Those two uneducated bumpkins don't deserve to live here!"

I was about to roast her again when Aunt Mariz shot her a sharp glare and spoke gently to my brother.

"Noah, you can choose any room you like. Think of it as our way of making it up to you."

My brother wrinkled his nose, glancing distastefully at Felix's overly delicate, floral-themed room. Then he turned and pointed boldly to a spacious, sunlit bedroom at the end of the hall.

"I'll take that one! It's big enough for me and Lenon!"

Sheila nearly screamed. "You've got to be kidding me—that's Mom and Dad's room!"

I smiled sweetly at Aunt Mariz. "Mom, you did say we could pick any room we wanted, right? You're not going back on your word, are you?"

Aunt Mariz's smile twitched, but after a long pause, she nodded reluctantly.

"Wonderful!" I said cheerfully. "We're exhausted from the trip. Mom, Dad, you two should rest early too!"

Then I pulled my brother into our new room and slammed the door shut, leaving the stunned family frozen in the hallway.

From that day on, we began our new life as the Watson family's most unorthodox "young masters."

And over the next week, my brother and I did what any self-respecting newly-rich duo would do—we went on a glorious, unstoppable shopping spree.