THE UNWANTED HEIR; FALLING FOR MY STEPBROTHER

Renee's POV

"Hello, Madam Renee, my name is Madeline from Holy Blessings Hospital, and we are calling to inform you that you have been listed as next of kin by a certain... Mr. Johnson, who, from the look of things, isn't doing well and is insistent on you coming to see him as soon as possible."

I stood still, trying to make sense of the voicemail.

"Mr. Johnson?" I muttered. Why was this name so familiar? If I remembered correctly, my foster family had been the only people close enough to be considered next of kin since I was eleven. Aside from my brother, Ethan, who was now a second-year student at Brookview University, there was no one else.

A wave of unease settled over me as I replayed the message. Hospitals didn't call for no reason, and whoever this man was, he wanted to see me before it was too late. Was he someone from my past? Someone from foster?

I shook my head. Impossible. If this were a scam, why would they use my name? Why list me as next of kin? My fingers hovered over my phone, debating whether to call back or ignore it altogether.

"Holla, sis!" Ethan's voice echoed from his room. "I couldn't help myself. Who is this Mr. Johnson?" He walked into the living room, clearly fishing for some 'tea.'

"Come on, Ethan. Leave me alone with your gossip," I muttered.

"No, sis, I'm already here." He dropped onto the couch, smiling mischievously. "Besides, our Wi-Fi subscription is overdue. I have nothing better to do, so fascinate me. Who's the mystery man? He seems pretty attached to you, listing you as his next of kin. Is he your secret sugar daddy from OnlyFans that I don't know about? Or a long-lost boyfriend?"

"Look, Eth!" I shot him a glare. "I've had quite a long day, and I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm. I just don't get it. Who is this guy, and why would he list me?"

I walked toward my phone, my mind made up. I needed to call back and get answers.

"Wait," Ethan interrupted, stopping me mid-reach. "Let me hear it one more time."

I replayed the message. He listened carefully, his brows knitting together. After the third time, something shifted in his expression. He turned abruptly.

"Hold on."

I watched him disappear into his room, his footsteps quick. Moments later, he reappeared carrying a stack of small boxes, envelopes, and old letters. He placed them on the white marble coffee table, dusting them off with his palm.

"What is this?" I asked, staring at the pile.

He tapped one of the letters, sealed with a bold, elegant 'J' on the front.

"Birthday gifts. They always came anonymously... just the initial 'J' on the card."

A strange shiver ran down my spine. My gaze flicked toward the drawer where I kept my own unopened birthday gifts that I'd received every year without fail. The same handwriting. The same initial.

I had managed to hide them because I always thought the 'J' stood for James—the man who, barely a year after marrying my birth mother, Isabella, killed her during a vacation in Sicily, Italy. At least, that's what I had heard and read from the police reports after I hired a private investigator with my first salary.

I had grown to hate James. How could he have killed the woman who had loved him so much? The woman I loved most in this world? Because of him, I had cried myself to sleep while other girls had their mothers brushing their hair a hundred times before bed.

As if killing my mother wasn't enough, now he was trying to reconnect? Without shame? Looking at Ethan's gifts made me furious. He was preying on my little brother, the one person I had tried so much to shelter from that past. Ethan had been just a toddler when it happened; he had no idea what kind of man James was.

"Rin! Where did you go?" Ethan's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Why are you staring at that drawer so much?" He reached for it. "Wait—it's locked?" He frowned.

Ignoring him, I grabbed a few letters from the marble table and rushed to my room, locking the door behind me. Ethan banged on it, begging me to open up.

"Sis! Come on, what is it?"

I kept quiet, flipping through the letters. They all looked similar to mine, but one in particular caught my attention. After the 'J' signature, there was a familiar phrase written in small, neat handwriting.

"The stars will always shine for you."

My breath hitched. My mother used to whisper those exact words to me whenever I couldn't stop crying. I unlocked the door. Ethan stood there, frowning. "Call the taxi," I said, trying to steady myself.

I attempted to reach the hospital but the line was busy. My heart pounded as I hurried down the stairs. The taxi driver was already waiting at the gate, his usual prompt self. Ethan stood beside him, making small talk.

"I'm coming with you," Ethan insisted.

"No," I said quickly, dreading what I might find. I pulled my card from my purse and shoved it into his hand. "Take this. Pay for the Wi-Fi and grab some groceries. I haven't eaten all day."

Ethan hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. But call me."

I nodded and slid into the backseat of the taxi.

Halfway to the hospital, my phone rang. Unknown number.

I answered. "Hello?"

"Miss Renee?"

"Yes?"

"This is Madeline from Holy Blessings Hospital. Mr. Johnson's condition has worsened. Please hurry."

The call ended before I could respond.

Panic swelled in my chest. I urged the driver to go faster, tapping my foot anxiously against the floor mat.

Minutes later, I rushed through the hospital's entrance, breathless. A nurse at the reception desk barely glanced up before pointing toward a hallway. "Room 309," she said.

I jogged down the corridor, heart hammering, only to stop dead in my tracks as I neared the room.

The door was open. Inside, several doctors and nurses hovered around the bed, their movements frantic. One of them was performing chest compressions. The monitor beside the bed let out an ominous, steady beep.

"No..." My voice barely came out.

A doctor glanced up but didn't stop. "We're doing everything we can."

I took a step closer, but a nurse gently blocked me. "I'm sorry, miss. You can't go in."

Seconds stretched into eternity. Then, a final long beep filled the room.

A doctor exhaled sharply. "Time of death—8:42 p.m."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

I stood frozen, staring at the lifeless man on the bed.

Who was he to me? Why had he been so desperate to see me? Had he been about to tell me something before he died?

Should I be crying?

But how could I grieve for a stranger?

The answers I needed had just disappeared with his last breath.

A sudden buzz in my hand snapped me back to reality.

I blinked, looking down at my phone. Unknown number.

I hesitated, then answered. "Hello?"

A calm, professional voice spoke. "Miss Renee, this is Richard Collins, your father, Mr. Johnson's attorney. I've just received a notification. My heartfelt condolences, but he instructed me to inform you immediately..." He paused. "You are now the sole heir of Silvercrest Enterprises."

"Wait...! Wait, what...?" My phone screen went black. Battery dead.

I stared at it, my mind racing.

"My father...?"

Renee

"Your father, Mr. Johnson..."

The words echoed in my mind like a broken record. I stared at my dead phone, gripping it tighter as if that would force it to turn back on.

What about James, my mother's murderer? How could one have two fathers? No way, this had to be a mistake. Even though I hated James so much, he was the only father I had ever known.

The man lying dead in that room might have died knowing the answers I needed.

Forcing my feet to move, I hurried back to the front desk. The nurse from earlier was still there, flipping through a clipboard.

"Excuse me," I said, my voice unsteady. "I need to borrow a charger. My phone died during the middle of an important call."

She barely looked up. "We don't provide chargers, ma'am. You'll have to find one yourself."

I clenched my jaw. "Seriously?"

Spinning away, I spotted a