The Man Who Loved My Sister

Julian, are you really going to marry Audrey, the one who poses nude for a living?

Liam Reynolds' voice on the phone was dripping with undisguised contempt.

Julian's voice was cold and rational, like a blade dipped in ice.

It's just a formality. Once Brandon Scott marries Lyla, I'll give Audrey a sum of money and send her away.

So, he loved my own sister.

He thought I was standing outside the studio, unable to hear anything.

He thought the suit jacket he'd draped over my bare shoulders was a symbol of love and protection.

He didn't know I already had the key to a private island and a perpetually loyal lover in my account.

Nor did he know I was patiently counting down the days until his performance ended.

Audrey POV

"Ms. Hayes, the transfer of your private island is complete," Mr. Davies, my private butler, said over the transatlantic call. "The island is secluded. No communication devices can track your location."

"Additionally, your custom-designed family and companion service is ready. You paid a hefty sum for it. They've been implanted with the most advanced emotional programs. They will love you unconditionally and with absolute loyalty."

I stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking at my reflection in the glass, and softly agreed.

"In thirty days, I'll finish tying up all loose ends here and arrive on the island on schedule."

Hanging up the phone, I turned and walked back to the circular platform in the center of the art studio.

This was Julian's private studio.

The air was filled with a mix of turpentine and a sophisticated woody scent.

I untied the thin silk robe I was wearing, letting it fall to my ankles, exposing myself completely under the bright overhead lights.

I am a nude model.

In this field, it's a profession accompanied by countless prejudices, condescension, and filthy speculation.

But Julian Vance was an exception.

He was one of the city's most influential and wealthy figures, and also a gifted sculptor and painter.

He once took off his expensive, high-end tailored suit, draped it over my bare, trembling shoulders, and in front of countless media flashes, kissed my collarbone and said,

"In my eyes, you are the purest art in the world, my only muse."

"Cold?"

A deep, mellow male voice interrupted my thoughts.

Julian walked towards me, palette in hand. His fingertip, stained with a bit of warm paint, gently brushed against the small of my back.

His gaze was focused and adoring, as if he were looking at a rare treasure.

"Just ten more minutes, and this painting will be finished. For next month's exhibition, I want the whole world to know how beautiful my wife, Audrey, is."

Wife.

Hearing that word, my heart didn't flutter with the usual sweetness. Instead, a bone-chilling coldness washed over me.

I quietly lowered my gaze, remaining silent.

Ten minutes later, Julian put down his paintbrush, picked up a cashmere blanket, and wrapped me snugly in it. He gently pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"I'm going to wash my hands. After that, I'll take you to try on wedding dresses."

Watching him walk into the bathroom, I noticed his phone casually placed next to the easel.

The screen was lit, showing an ongoing FaceTime call with his friend, Liam.

I took a step closer. Liam's voice, a mix of teasing and pity, came clearly through the speaker.

"Julian, are you really going to marry Audrey, the one who poses nude for a living? Are you crazy? How could the Vance family ever let a nude model marry into the family?"

Amidst the sound of running water from the bathroom, Julian's cold, rational voice came through his Bluetooth headset and reached my ears.

"It's just a formality. Brandon Scott dislikes Audrey's profession and absolutely refuses to marry her, but his family is pressuring him not to break the engagement. If I don't 'steal' Audrey's fiance status, how can Brandon be free to marry Lyla?"

Liam sighed.

"You're something else. Just to let Lyla marry the man she loves, you, the heir to the Vance empire, are willing to humble yourself to pursue a nude model, even putting on this sickening act of being deeply in love and calling her your muse. Aren't you afraid of getting trapped for life?"

The water stopped running. Julian's voice held a trace of barely suppressed tenderness, but it wasn't for me.

"As long as Lyla gets what she wants, everything I do is worth it. Once Lyla and Brandon are married, I'll give Audrey a sum of money and send her away."

Boom.

I felt all the blood in my body freeze instantly, and even breathing sent a tearing pain through me.

It turned out that all his respect, favoritism, and protection for me over the past seven years had been nothing but lies.

He pulled me out of the mire and put me on a pedestal, not because he loved me, but just to make way for my own sister, Lyla.

What a grand and understated love.

For Lyla's happiness, he was willing to get his hands dirty, to embrace a "nude model" whom he fundamentally looked down on.

I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted blood, forcing myself to turn around.

There was no one here who loved me anymore.

It's okay. In thirty days, I'll go to that deserted island, where I'll have a lover who will never betray me.

Audrey POV

The bathroom door opened, and Julian walked out, drying his hands.

He put on his usual gentle mask, came up to me, and naturally pulled me into his arms, his chin gently brushing against my neck.

"What's wrong? You're trembling. Are you cold?"

His tone was so caring, his movements so gentle. If I hadn't just heard those words with my own ears, I would never have believed that beneath this warm body lay a heart so cruel towards me.

I suppressed the churning nausea in my stomach, subtly stepping back half a pace from his embrace, my voice calm.

"No, I'm just a little tired."

Julian didn't notice anything amiss, just dotingly ruffled my hair.

"Then we won't go try on wedding dresses today. You rest well at home. Tonight, I'll cook your favorite dishes myself."

Looking into his deeply affectionate eyes, an image from five years ago flashed uncontrollably in my mind.

At that time, I had just started as a nude model, and uncensored photos of me were maliciously leaked by the media.

My biological parents, ashamed of me, locked me out of the house.

My fianc, Brandon Scott, even threw my photos in my face, calling me "low-class" and "disgusting."

It was Julian who descended like a god, blocking all the garbage and hateful camera flashes thrown at me.

With the hands that had sculpted countless masterpieces, he gently wiped away the dirt from my face and declared to the world,

"Art itself is innocent; it's your eyes that are dirty. Audrey is my lifelong inspiration."

Back then, I thought I had found salvation.

I took out my battered heart, carefully mended it, and gave it to him wholeheartedly.

But now, it seemed it was nothing but a carefully planned hunt.

His so-called "inspiration" was just to make me willingly give up Brandon.

A special notification sound suddenly rang out in the quiet art studio, interrupting my thoughts.

Julian picked up his phone, and his expression instantly changed with just one glance.

His usually gentle brows tightened, and a hint of undisguised panic flashed in his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

I asked, feigning ignorance.

Julian hastily grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, not even sparing me a glance.

"There's a sudden emergency at the company. A multi-million dollar project has a glitch, and I have to go deal with it immediately. You wait patiently at home for me. Dinner might have to wait until tomorrow."

He spoke flawlessly, but as he turned away, I clearly saw the chat interface still lit up on his phone screen.

It was a SnapChat message from Lyla, with an accompanying picture of a slender finger, with an extremely faint scratch on the fingertip, so shallow it hadn't even bled.

The caption read: "Julian, I accidentally scratched myself with a violin string while practicing. It hurts so much!"

Because of such a trivial message, barely even a scratch, the man who constantly declared me his only inspiration, abandoned me without hesitation.

The studio door was shut with a heavy thud.

I stood there, looking at the empty room, and suddenly felt a strange sense of amusement.

I once believed Julian was the man who loved me most in the world.

But it turned out that in the face of a single scratch on Lyla's finger, I, his "fiance" who was about to marry him, wasn't even worth an excuse.

I didn't cry. My tears had dried up during those long nights of being cursed by my parents and scorned by Brandon.

I simply walked calmly to the easel, looking at the oil painting Julian had just finished.

The woman in the painting was nude, her eyes pure and melancholic, breathtakingly beautiful.

I picked up a paintbrush stained with black paint and, without the slightest hesitation, drew a huge, ugly 'X' across the woman's face in the painting.

Then, I turned and walked back to the bedroom, pulled out a black suitcase, and began to pack my belongings, one by one.

Since I decided to leave, I would leave cleanly, without a trace.

Audrey POV

After packing my usual clothes, I started to organize my documents, only to realize the most important ones weren't with me.

I paused for a moment, then changed into a conservative long-sleeved trench coat, wrapping myself up completely. I called an Uber to the Hayes family mansion.

This was my home, yet I stood at the entrance like a cautious stranger.

Ever since I insisted on becoming a nude model five years ago, against my family's wishes, the Hayes family had changed their locks and never given me a key again.

After ringing the doorbell, it took a full ten minutes for Martha, the housekeeper, to open the door, her face full of impatience.

In the living room, my parents were sitting on the sofa, sipping tea.

Seeing me walk in, their previously smiling faces instantly darkened, as if they had seen something repulsive.

"What are you doing back? Our family's name has been completely dragged through the mud by you, and you still have the nerve to step foot in this house?"

Mom slammed her teacup onto the coffee table, her sharp voice piercing my ears.

Dad just snorted, not even bothering to look at me directly.

"What, you can't make money flaunting yourself outside anymore, so you want to come back begging? Let me tell you, the Hayes family only has one daughter, Lyla. You disgusting thing, get out of here quickly and don't soil our carpet!"

I had heard such words countless times.

Before, I would feel wronged, try to explain the difference between art and pornography, and cry, asking them why they only loved Lyla when we were both their daughters.

But now, my heart was like a dry well, no longer stirred by any ripple.

"I'll just grab my things and leave."

I walked directly towards the study on the second floor.

Just then, the front door of the mansion opened again.

"I've brought Lyla home."

Julian's voice echoed from the entrance hall.

My steps abruptly halted. I turned around and saw Julian carefully escorting Lyla inside.

Lyla was wearing a pure white, high-end couture dress, like a noble, flawless white swan.

And Julian's hand was loosely resting on her waist, his eyes filled with a tension and tenderness I had never seen directed at me.

"Oh, my sweet daughter, how did you cut your hand? Let Mom see!"

Mom's harshness towards me instantly vanished, replaced by a face full of concern as she rushed to meet Lyla.

Lyla leaned delicately against Julian, extending the finger whose red mark had almost disappeared.

"I'm fine, I just practiced violin too hard. Thanks to Julian, he pushed aside a multi-million dollar meeting as soon as he heard I was hurt, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a bandage. The doctor even said the cut would have healed if we'd arrived any later."

Her words were full of boastfulness, but her eyes provocatively sought me out, standing at the top of the stairs.

Julian finally noticed my presence.

His body stiffened slightly. He subconsciously withdrew his hand from Lyla's waist, a flicker of rapid panic and guilt in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

He quickly walked to the bottom of the stairs, trying to take my hand.

"I... my meeting ended early, and I happened to pass by Lyla's studio, so I gave her a ride home."

I avoided his touch.

I looked at this man, full of lies, and felt utterly absurd.

A multi-million dollar meeting? Happened to pass by?

He could unhesitatingly abandon me for Lyla's minor injury, yet now he wanted to play the deeply affectionate, innocent role in front of me.

"Don't blame Julian. He's just too kind; he can't stand to see anyone hurt."

Lyla stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over my tightly wrapped trench coat. A malicious smile played on her lips.

"Are you finally feeling ashamed, dressed so heavily today? Julian actually told me that while he respects your 'art,' he's still quite bothered by you letting so many men see you."

Julian's face changed drastically, and he snapped,

"Lyla, don't talk nonsense!"

He turned to me, explaining urgently.

"Don't listen to her. I never thought that. In my heart, you are always the purest."

I watched him silently, watching the undeniable hypocrisy in his eyes.

I didn't argue or make a scene. I simply calmly withdrew my gaze and turned to continue upstairs.

"Whether it's nonsense or not, it no longer matters."

Audrey POV

I easily found my documents in the bottom drawer of the study.

After carefully placing them in my bag, I went downstairs.

I had intended to leave immediately, but my mother's cold, hard voice stopped me.

"Since you're back, have dinner before you go. Otherwise, people will say the Hayes family is cruel, not even feeding their own daughter."

Mom's words were spoken with extreme reluctance. If Julian hadn't been present, she probably would have already told Martha to get a broom and kick me out.

I wanted to refuse, but I caught Julian's pleading gaze out of the corner of my eye, as if he was begging me to cooperate with his act as the "devoted fianc."

I felt apathetic and nodded, taking a seat at the very edge of the dining table.

Martha soon served the dishes.

The table was piled high with food I disliked, and many spicy dishes.

I have severe stomach ulcers and cannot tolerate any spice.

My family knew this, and Julian knew it even better.

Once, when we were eating out, a bit of chili accidentally got into my soup, and I was in so much pain I broke out in a cold sweat.

That day, Julian, who was always so dignified and composed, lost his temper in the restaurant and even personally took care of me.

From then on, whenever he was present at a meal, there was never a trace of chili.

But now, he looked at the table full of dishes and didn't even frown.

"Julian, try this. I specially asked Martha to make it. I know you've been eating her plain food lately, you must be tired of it."

Lyla picked up a piece of meat and naturally placed it in Julian's bowl.

Julian subconsciously glanced at me. Seeing that I had my head down and wasn't reacting, he smiled and ate the meat.

"Thanks, Lyla. It's certainly been a while since I've had anything spicy."

So, he hadn't changed his palate for me; he had just been enduring it.

I picked up the glass of plain water in front of me, took a sip, and suppressed the faint pang of pain in my stomach.

At the dinner table, my parents constantly served Lyla and Julian, the three of them chatting and laughing as if they were the only family, and I was just a transparent, superfluous decoration.

"By the way,"

Lyla suddenly changed the subject, directing her words at me,

"I heard you're having a solo exhibition next month? And Julian is personally organizing it for you?"

My hand, holding the knife and fork, paused slightly.

That exhibition was Julian's promised "wedding gift" to me.

He said he would use the most magnificent exhibition to showcase my beauty to the world and wash away all the shame associated with me.

"Yes."

I replied indifferently.

Lyla covered her mouth and chuckled, her eyes full of disdain.

"You're really brave. If I were like you, posing nude in front of men every day, I wouldn't even dare to leave the house, let alone hold an art exhibition. I truly don't know how you manage to be so... uninhibited."

"Lyla!"

Mom sounded like she was scolding her, but her tone was full of indulgence,

"She has no shame, but don't you dare learn from her! Our family has always been respectable. How did we end up with such a disgrace!"

I didn't retort. I just quietly looked at Julian.

The man who had once draped his jacket over me in front of countless people and shielded me, was now sitting quietly.

Not only did he not refute them as he usually would, but he slightly frowned and spoke to me in an extremely gentle, yet somewhat condescending tone.

"Lyla is young and speaks her mind; don't take it to heart. However... they do have a point. After this exhibition, once we're married, you should stop modeling. A Vance wife shouldn't be out there, letting people judge her."

His voice was soft, but it felt like a dull knife, mercilessly cutting into my heart.

This was his so-called "inspiration" and "art."

It turned out that, deep down, he was just like those who looked at me with prejudiced eyes, believing my profession was low-class, disgraceful, and needed to be hidden.

Every one of his previous defenses was just an act to make Brandon comfortable with breaking off the engagement.

I put down my knife and fork and stood up.

"I'm full. Please enjoy your meal."

I didn't look at Julian's instantly stiff face, nor did I heed my parents' curses. I walked directly out of the mansion and into the cold autumn night.

Audrey POV

After returning from the Hayes' residence, I began a quiet purge.

Twenty-five days until I left for the island.

I sorted and packed up all the expensive gowns and jewelry Julian had customized for me in my walk-in closet, then contacted a luxury resale specialist.

I dug out the "model contracts" I once treasured. The promises Julian had personally written, ensuring I would be his exclusive muse.

His handwriting was strong and bold, once etching itself into my heart with every stroke, but now it only felt ironic.

I lit a lighter, watching the papers turn to ash in the metal basin.

"What are you burning?"

Julian pushed open the door, a faint smell of alcohol clinging to him.

Seeing the metal basin on the floor, he frowned slightly and quickly stepped forward, stomping out the last embers.

"Just some unwanted scraps of paper."

I stood up.

Julian looked at me.

He stepped forward, pulled me forcefully into his embrace, his chin resting on the top of my head, his voice tinged with a hint of appeasement.

"Are you still angry with me? That day at your parents' house, I was just trying to calm them down. You know, you're the only one in my heart."

He paused, then produced a gilded invitation as if it were a treasure.

"Tomorrow is the opening of the exhibition. I promise, this exhibition, named 'Audrey: A New Beginning', will make you the most dazzling queen in the entire art world. All the rumors will be silenced."

I lowered my gaze, looking at the invitation card bearing my name, and a silent, cold laugh escaped my heart.

If I hadn't overheard his conversation with Liam that day, I probably would have been moved to tears.

"Okay."

I softly agreed.

The next evening, the city's largest private art gallery was brightly lit.

I wore a conservative black long dress and walked into the exhibition hall, holding Julian's hand.

However, when I looked up at the giant poster in the center of the hall, my steps froze.

On the poster, the originally planned exhibition title, "Audrey: A New Beginning," had been conspicuously replaced with "Lyla's Growth."

The irony wasn't lost on me.

And in the very center of the exhibition hall, under the brightest spotlights, wasn't the oil painting of me, but a massive sculpture.

The sculpture depicted a young girl in a ballet dress, pure, noble, and untouchable.

It was Lyla's face.

I looked for a long time. Finally, in the darkest, most inconspicuous corner of the exhibition hall, I found my artwork.

The painting depicted me nude, bathed in dark red light, creating an ambiguous and alluring tone.

Below the painting hung a glaring label: "Mud under the Swan's Feet."

Mud.

So this was his idea of a "queen."

Guests gathered in small groups, pointing at the painting in the corner and letting out subtle, knowing chuckles.

"I heard this is Mr. Vance's common fiance? Her figure isn't bad, no wonder she managed to seduce him."

"The contrast is too stark, isn't it? That sculpture in the middle is Lyla, the eldest daughter of the Hayes family, right? That's true art, elegant and sacred. The one in the corner is, at most, an explicit photo."

"Mr. Vance's intentions are brilliant. Putting his fiance's nude painting beneath his beloved's sculpture as a backdrop. Isn't that a blatant insult?"

Their harsh words pierced my ears like needles.

I turned and looked at Julian, who stood beside me.

He was wearing a well-tailored suit, a flawless smile on his face.

He didn't even glance at me, his gaze fixed dreamily on the sculpture of Lyla in the center.

"Is this your gift to me?"

My voice was very soft, yet it was unusually clear in the noisy exhibition hall.

Julian snapped back to reality, meeting my eyes.

He quickly grabbed my hand, lowering his voice to explain.

"Listen to me. Lyla is applying to the Royal Art Academy, and she needs a prominent exhibition credit. You don't care about these superficial things, do you? You're my private muse. These paintings are in the corner to protect you, to keep too many people from seeing your body."

Protect?

Stripping away my dignity and trampling it underfoot to elevate Lyla's throne. Was this protection?

I forcefully pulled my hand away, one finger at a time, prying his grip loose.

"Julian, you're disgusting."

Audrey POV

I didn't make a scene at the exhibition.

I simply turned and walked out of that suffocating art gallery, leaving Julian stunned.

The cold wind on my face felt incredibly clear.

Fifteen days until I left for the island.

Back in the empty mansion, I turned off my phone, cutting off all outside noise.

I began to liquidate my assets even faster, transferring all the money from the resale of luxury items into the overseas account provided by my private butler.

Three days later, when I turned my phone back on, a deluge of news notifications popped up.

"Breaking! Brandon Scott and Lyla Hayes officially announce engagement!"

"Wedding of the Century! The Scott and Hayes families unite, the most perfect couple!"

The accompanying photo showed Brandon in a white suit, gently kissing Lyla's hand.

Standing behind them, as a "male relative of the bride," was Julian.

In the photo, Julian's eyes were deeply fixed on Lyla, harboring a profound, suppressed affection that even the media could discern.

I quietly looked at the photo, and the last ripple in my heart completely settled.

He finally got what he wanted.

Using my dignity, my reputation, and my seven years of youth, he paved a smooth path for the woman he loved.

Late that night, the mansion door was suddenly pushed open.

Julian stumbled in, reeking of alcohol.

His eyes were bloodshot, his tie askew. He had completely lost his usual aristocratic composure.

Seeing me on the sofa, he seemed to find an outlet for his emotions. He lunged, pinning me roughly to the couch.

He buried his head in my neck, his voice conveying a almost pathological sense of relief and pain.

"She's engaged... she finally got what she wanted..."

The strong smell of alcohol mixed with his familiar woody scent made me feel a wave of physical revulsion.

I stared coldly at the man pressing down on me.

"Julian, what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not crazy!"

Julian suddenly lifted his head, staring at me with a wild, possessive look.

"It's all over! Brandon married her. I don't have to worry about her being wronged anymore. Now I only have you. Let's get married, let's get married right now, okay?"

He said, lowering his head to kiss my lips, his hands roughly pulling at the buttons of my sleepwear.

I used all my strength, delivering a sharp slap to his face.

The crisp sound of the slap echoed in the silent living room.

Julian's head was knocked to the side. The alcohol in his system seemed to clear up a bit.

He touched his stinging cheek, his eyes instantly turning sinister and terrifying.

"You hit me?"

He sneered, his eyes filled with the brutality of a torn facade.

"Audrey, why are you acting so high and mighty? You're nothing but a nude model who poses for paintings! Besides me, what other man in this world would marry you? Brandon thought you were dirty, your parents thought you were a disgrace. What do you think you are?"

The most vicious words often come from the most intimate people.

He stepped right on my most painful wound. He was trying to hide his own pain of losing Lyla. By belittling me, he tried to prove he was still the god who controlled everything.

I didn't struggle, nor did I cry.

I just looked at him like he was a pathetic creature.

"Yes, I'm dirty."

"So, Mr. Vance, don't soil your noble hands."

He suddenly stopped all his movements, looking into my eyes.

He scrambled off me, trying to fix my torn collar.

"I'm sorry, I was drunk... I didn't mean that..."

I avoided his hand, stood up, straightened my clothes, and walked upstairs without looking back.