My Adopted Sister Tried To Kill Me For My House

Two days later, Melissa showed up at my employee apartment, dragging three others along with her. I recognized them instantly—it was the same family responsible for my death in my past life: Julian Tran and his parents.

Melissa gently touched her flat stomach, her face glowing with happiness. "Jane, I'm pregnant. Surely you'll let us turn your place into the nursery, right?"

Avayah wedged her curvy frame against the doorframe, craning her neck to peek inside like she was appraising something precious. Julian stood nearby, radiating smug protectiveness.

"Melissa," he said with self-satisfaction, "doesn't your sister have somewhere else to stay? What's the harm in lending it out?"

"Everyone says an older sister is like a second mother. Melissa doesn't have a mom, so giving her the house as a wedding gift is only natural," Avayah added, bold as brass.

I had been with the company for seven years and had just been assigned a single-room apartment. It wasn't fancy, but the location—just a five-minute walk from work—made it ideal. Still, that didn't mean I planned on living in employee housing forever. I wanted my own space. Especially since, in my past life, not long after I lent the place to Melissa, the company notified us that the lease was ending and we'd have to find somewhere else.

They never once mentioned how much they planned to contribute to the wedding, yet they expected me to just hand over my home. Avayah went on, brimming with arrogance, "Melissa said your place is only a thousand square feet? It's small, but we'll make do."

"You're still young. Work hard, save up, and buy another one. Anyway, when you marry, some outsider will end up with the house anyway. Better to give it to your sister as a wedding gift."

I couldn't help but laugh at their sheer nerve.

"What does her pregnancy have to do with me?" I shot back. "Didn't Melissa tell you she already cut ties with me? Why should I provide a wedding gift for a stranger?"

"You—!" Avayah hadn't seen that coming. She jabbed a finger at me, but I slammed the door shut, nearly catching her hand.

For four solid hours, they hollered outside my door. Once they finally gave up and left, I headed straight to a real estate agency. I hadn't planned on selling the place; it was my first major purchase with my own money and held a ton of sentimental value. But it's not just the thief you fear—it's the thief who's got his eye on what's yours.

Today made it crystal clear: Melissa wouldn't stop until she got that house. Better to sell it and put an end to her obsession.

On Monday, I put in a transfer request at HQ. My manager had suggested moving me to the central office in L.A. two years ago, but I was too wrapped up in Melissa's drama to consider it. Now, I wanted as much distance from her as possible.

To my surprise, my manager didn't agree as easily as I'd expected. "Jane, company transfers also take into account an employee's character."

His comment threw me off, and just as I was about to ask what he meant, the receptionist burst into the manager's office.

"Boss... oh, Jane, you're here too. Your sister was downstairs this morning, crying about how you're pushing her to the edge. Security had to escort her out."

"But now she's back again... you'd better go deal with it!"

From the receptionist's account, I learned Melissa had caused a scene earlier while I was out on a work errand, completely unaware of the chaos. No wonder my colleagues had been acting weird all day—Melissa had stirred things up.

I took a deep breath. "Got it. I'll handle it."

When I got downstairs, I found Melissa clutching her belly, tears streaming down her face as she sat on the cold ground. "Tell me if I'm wrong! I'm pregnant, but my sister—Jane Roberts—is hogging a company apartment and won't even let me use her empty house to rest!"