Summer Woods had an identical birthmark in the exact same spot.

This was a "secret" known to everyone in the Woods family; Ethan used to tease her when they were young, calling her "the little butterfly who came with a mark."

So, that man was truly Summer’s... biological brother?

Ethan stared at the photo of Cade Sterling. The coldness in the man's eyes and his aura of total control were palpable even through the paper.

But at this moment, none of that mattered.

He took a deep breath and dialed the contact number provided in the file.

The phone rang for a long time before it was picked up.

"Hello." A cold, deep male voice answered, devoid of any emotion.

"Mr. Sterling, this is Ethan Woods." Ethan forced his voice to remain steady. "Is my sister, Summer Woods, with you? There has been a deep misunderstanding between us, but there is an urgent matter and I must find her immediately. Please let her take the phone, or tell me where she is, and I will come to pick her up personally."

"Your sister?" Cade Sterling gave a light chuckle on the other end of the line, a sound filled with undisguised mockery. "I'm afraid Mr. Woods is mistaken. Summer is my sister—my biological sister. As for the Woods family... heh. My sister doesn't have a 'brother' or a 'fiancé' who would personally send her to prison and destroy her dreams with their own hands."

Ethan’s face turned pale as he gripped the phone. "Mr. Sterling! What happened before was indeed a misunderstanding. I admit I owe Summer, and I will compensate her! But the situation is urgent. My other sister, Skylar, is gravely ill and needs Summer to save her life! Please let her take the phone; I will explain it to her myself!"

Chapter Twelve

"Misunderstanding? Compensation?" Cade Sterling’s voice turned abruptly cold, the chill perceptible even through the line. "Skylar’s life or death has nothing to do with Summer. Where were you when she was suffocating from an allergy? Where were you when her finger bones were being crushed one by one by your own hands? Now that you need her lungs, you remember she’s your sister? Ethan Woods, the world doesn't work that way."

"Cade Sterling!" Ethan finally lost his composure and growled, "That is a human life! Summer is kind-hearted; if she knew Skylar needed a donor to live, she wouldn't stand by and watch her die! You have no right to make this decision for her!"

"No right?" Cade sounded as if he had heard a joke, the ice in his tone enough to freeze the air. "I am her only blood relative in this world. I have more right than anyone to protect her and ensure she is never harmed by trash like you again. Furthermore, Mr. Woods, a word of advice: do not attempt to harass Summer again, and do not think of using any means to coerce her. Otherwise, I wouldn't mind making the Woods and Rivers families' overseas assets completely stagnant. I mean what I say."

Beep— Beep— Beep—

The dial tone signaled the call had been cut off decisively.

Ethan stood frozen with the phone in his hand, his face turning various shades of blue and white.

Cade Sterling’s final words weren't a threat; they were a statement of fact. With the Sterling Group’s power, he could absolutely do it.

"What did he say?" Julian asked anxiously.

Ethan recounted Cade’s words, then slammed a fist against the wall with a dull thud. "Bastard!"

Julian, however, remained silent for a long time after hearing this.

He didn't explode in rage like Ethan. Instead, he turned pale and took a step back, leaning against the cold wall.

Every one of Cade Sterling’s words was like a whip, lashing against his already bloodied conscience.

Suffocating from an allergy... bones crushed...

These words turned into vivid images, flashing repeatedly in his mind.

That day at the dress shop, when Skylar was "bullied," they had locked Summer in that room. Later, she had fled with her clothes in disarray and her face covered in tears, rushing toward the road... at that time, why hadn't he considered whether she was actually the one wronged? Whether she was actually scared?

And at the hospital, with the protein powder Skylar "kindly" sent. Summer had been force-fed and suffered anaphylactic shock, covered in rashes, walking the line between life and death... yet they only believed Skylar’s side of the story, thinking Summer had framed her to cause trouble.

Finally, those hands.

The hands he had personally held down.

The sound of bones shattering as the hammer fell, Summer’s inhuman scream, and later, that hollow, desperate laughter...

A wave of intense nausea rose in his throat. Julian bent over abruptly, dry-heaving uncontrollably as tears welled up physiologically.

"Julian? What’s wrong?" Ethan frowned at him.

Julian waved a hand, signaling he was fine.

He rushed into the restroom attached to the study, turned on the faucet, and washed his face repeatedly with ice-cold water.

Looking up, the man in the mirror had bloodshot eyes and a deathly pale face, his wet hair plastered to his forehead in a wretched state.

Who was this?

This shouldn't be him.

He should be the composed, elegant Julian Rivers, always wearing a warm smile, the one who could coax a crying little Summer into laughing.

But what had he done?

He abruptly pulled open the bottom drawer of the desk, where an old phone was kept.

He charged it and turned it on.

The screen lit up. The lock screen wallpaper was a seventeen-year-old Summer Woods.

She was wearing a white ballet tutu. Though she wasn't a ballerina, she had played a cameo role in a school performance back then. She was smiling so widely her eyes crinkled, as if they were filled with sunlight.

With trembling fingers, he swiped the screen and went into the photo gallery.

There were thousands of photos stored inside.

Most of them were of Summer.

There was a profile of her focused on playing the violin; her mischievous face after a successful prank; her peaceful look while sleeping on his shoulder; the time he tenderly applied a band-aid to her fingers when she developed callouses from practicing...

Every single one was so vivid, so bright.

But the final image etched in his memory was the sight under the hospital’s sterile white lights—those twisted, deformed hands wrapped in blood-stained bandages, and the eyes she raised to look at him, which no longer held a shred of light, only a desolate silence.

"I'm laughing at myself... I'm laughing that I still held onto illusions..."

"It's fine now... everything is gone... truly... nothing is left..."

Her hoarse, desperate voice rang in his ears once more.

Julian covered his ears, but the voice seemed to come from within his own heart, impossible to escape.

He rushed out of the study like a trapped beast, pacing back and forth in the empty living room. Finally, he charged over to Ethan and grabbed him by the collar, his eyes terrifyingly red.

"Ethan Woods!" His voice shook with agitation. "Years ago! That time Skylar fell down the stairs! Are you truly one hundred percent certain it was Summer who pushed her?!"

Ethan was taken aback by the question, then tried to brush his hand away irritably. "What’s wrong with you? Didn't a servant see it back then—"

"What did the servant see?! Huh?!" Julian didn't let go; instead, he gripped tighter, practically shouting, "Did we see it with our own eyes?! Did we... truly listen to Summer’s explanation?! She was crying then, saying it wasn't her—did we believe her?!"

Ethan was stunned by the roar. Certain details from back then had become blurred due to their deliberate favoritism toward Skylar and their subsequent anger.

Faced with Julian’s piercing questioning, ignored fragments of memory suddenly flashed through his mind.

Summer had been crying so bitterly, so desperately, saying "It wasn't me" over and over.

Skylar had looked piteous, saying she was scared because she had just come home, and accused Summer of pushing her.

They had naturally believed the biological sister who appeared weaker and wronged.

"I..." Ethan opened his mouth, but for a moment, he couldn't find the words to argue.

"If you won't investigate, I will!" Julian let go of him abruptly, a nearly obsessive madness in his eyes. "I want to know the truth! I must know!"

Chapter Thirteen

He turned and left, his steps somewhat staggering but exceptionally firm.

Looking at his departing back, for the first time, a crack appeared in the wall within Ethan’s heart named "Skylar is the victim, Summer is the perpetrator." A chill seeped through that crevice, thread by thread.

Julian mobilized all his connections and channels, bypassing the Woods family and sparing no expense to hire the top, most discreet private investigators with only one requirement: a thorough re-investigation of that "accident" at the stairs of the Woods' ancestral home three years ago.