She Called It Treatment

After Olivia died, Calvin just moved in like it was a given.

He said he couldn't handle living alone, kept playing the childhood trauma card to get Jocelyn to stay over.

Then he dumped his girlfriend—again—because of his "condition."

After that, every few nights, he'd call Jocelyn for "counseling."

They'd stay on the phone till morning.

Every time—almost every time—Calvin called, Jocelyn dropped everything and ran to him.

Even when I was barely alive after a car crash, she flew overseas off one call—just to get him meds.

When she got back, she didn't explain.

"You were already at the hospital. You weren't gonna die. Calvin's my brother—if I don't get his medication, it could mess up his future. His marriage. His kids."

"Brother." That was always her shield. She never saw how far she'd crossed the line.

Like when her mom was in the hospital. Her day off—but suddenly she had "overtime." She never showed.

I went home to grab clothes.

The second I opened the door, I saw her—half-dressed, sitting on Calvin's lap, her face flushed.

I walked in on them. She looked annoyed.

"I'm testing a response. It's treatment—and a sister taking care of her brother. Be reasonable. Don't make a scene."

She yanked her clothes back on.

Calvin frowned too, like I'd ruined something, muttering under his breath.

In that moment, I was the outsider.

The humiliation hit hard.

After I left Robert's place, I went back to the mansion Jocelyn and I shared.

I planned to clear out anything tied to her. But after packing my stuff, it hit me—two years, and she'd never given me a single gift.

I let out a dry laugh and dumped everything I'd ever given her straight into the trash.

Then I walked out.

I called a lawyer and started splitting our premarital assets. In the end, not just the house—even the car she drove got frozen as disputed property.

Once it was done, I saw Robert had gone live online, ranting about me—calling me an ungrateful son-in-law.

Jocelyn's clinic, Gill Psychiatry, had a solid rep, so the stream blew up fast.

But after Robert kept hurling insults, the viewers didn't buy it.

In the end, Jocelyn couldn't take it. She posted an old childhood photo of her and Calvin, throwing shade at me:

[If marriage means abandoning your own family, then what is love?]

Watching her twist everything, I called Mason.

"Yes, Mr. Flint."

My voice stayed flat, like she was just business. "Cut all investment in Gill Psychiatry. I'll send the breach files—handle the penalties."

He didn't hesitate.

I glanced at the comments—Jocelyn still dragging my name—and let out a faint smile.

"Spread it. Flint Corp's pulling out. And file a report—Jocelyn Gill, director of Gill Psychiatry, crossed legal lines with a patient. Her adopted brother. I've got proof. And more if we need it."