Convicted [1]

"Hoi, Miss Brianna! Take these to the young master's room, will you? I have some things I need to do quickly and you're just loitering around here anyway," the maid in pigtails and a very short skirt approached Brianna and handed the tray of food and medicine to her.

Brianna looked down at the tray, then she meekly replied, "Byron hates me. He'll scream and throw the food away if I deliver it to him."

The maid rolled her eyes, "Oh, please! I'm not asking for too much! You can just take it and place it on his table. He must be sleeping now, so hurry!"

Afraid to get hated by the maid, Brianna took the tray and the maid immediately turned away with a smug look on her face. Brianna went up the grand staircase but as she was leaving, she couldn't help but overhear the maid giggling with her fellow servants.

"Did you see that? She obeyed right away! Hahaha, it certainly feels fulfilling when you get to order the masters of the house!"

"Geez, girl~ lower your voice! What if someone hears that you're ordering the firstborn of House Cordova around? You'll get fired in a blink!"

The arrogant maid crossed her arms on her chest and rolled her eyes, "Oh, Miss Brianna is a pushover that can't even speak for herself. She's afraid of being hated by her father and getting kicked out of the house if she causes trouble. Though, I bet it really won't be long now until she gets disowned."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, well, you know? Young master Byron will soon turn eighteen, won't he? I heard that the master chose him as the heir."

"Wow. I pity Miss Brianna then. She's the legitimate daughter and the young master was just a son from a mistress. But the master was giving his attention to the young master instead."

"Ugh, why are you pitying that woman? She doesn't need pity, what she needs is a working brain! Hahaha, if I were her, there's no way I'd let some illegitimate child take everything that should belong to me! I go to such lengths just to make them disappear!"

"Don't talk scary~. Let's go back to work now. The mistress and the master will soon return."

Brianna stood behind the golden-plated column, listening to the footsteps fading away from her ears. Her hands trembled as she clenched the handle of the tray. How could they speak like that? She was the oldest Cordova, her father's legitimate child, how could they treat her like a maid? And her father, how could he think of leaving everything to Byron? She was doing her best to learn and manage their business but not once did her efforts get appreciated.

She wasn't as smart as Byron, but she's a hard worker! She can improve if only her father would take the time to teach her and give her attention.

Brianna walked to the third floor where Byron's room was. Byron was his half-brother. They came to the Cordova Estate after Brianna's mother divorced her scum father and left by herself. Brianna was sixteen years old at that time, and Byron was ten when he and his mother arrived at the estate.

After that, Brianna's dull and lonely life became gloomier and colder. Her expectation that she'd build a close relationship with her younger brother was just a hopeless dream. Byron disliked her as soon as they met. He claimed that while he and his mother were living in the slums, she was living like a princess in that huge mansion.

So, everything that she has was given to Byron as well…even her dolls and her stuffed toys.

Tok! Tok!

Brianna knocked on the door. There was no answer even after she waited a few minutes. She pushed the door open nervously, waiting for a pillow to land on her face as what she always experienced whenever she'd tried to come into Byron's room.

She prepared herself for getting hit and even stretched out the tray to protect the food. However, even after closing the door carefully behind her, no pillows or whatever was hurled at her. She peeked at the four-poster bed where Byron was sleeping soundly.

Brianna sighed with relief. She tiptoed to the bed and carefully placed the tray on his nightstand, then she turned around and decided to leave quickly. But before she could take another step, a hand grabbed her wrist, startling her big time her soul almost leaped out of her body.

Byron's glazed eyes focused on Brianna. His face was flushed and sweaty. He parted his parched lips and spoke faintly, "S-Sister…."

Brianna worriedly held his hand back and supported him up, mumbling shyly, "I…I brought dinner…you should eat first before going to sleep. Take your medicine too. It seems that your fever isn't going down."

Byron nodded his head obediently. He let Brianna put a pillow on his back and adjust his cover. Brianna was getting confused by her half-brother's behavior. Is it because of the fever? She asked herself. Either way, she felt glad that Byron was being approachable for once. She took advantage of the situation in hopes that after that, their relationship might turn better.

So, Brianna eagerly suggested, "Do you want me to feed you?"

Byron looked at his older sister. He simply nodded and opened his mouth. Brianna excitedly scooped the soup and brought it to Byron's mouth. Byron swallowed the food silently. She continued feeding him in silence while feeling elated.

However, on his sixth spoon, Byron suddenly clutched his chest and looked pained. His eyes widened as his cover began turning to red spilling from his own mouth.

Brianna was rooted on the spot. Her body froze and the bowl on her hands fell on the floor, creating a loud noise as it shattered into pieces. Her eyes filled with horror.

"Wha…geuk...heuk…sis…ugh…," blood muffled Byron's words as he slowly turned to his older sister. Tears ran down his eyes and washed the blood dripping on his chin. His eyes were asking Brianna – 'Older sister, how could you do this?'

At the same time, the door slammed open. A woman in a tightly fitted knee-length dress and six-inches high heels appeared, her eyes wandered to the person sitting on the bed, and when she saw red on her son's lips, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"BYRON!!!"

She ran to her son, pushing away the frozen Brianna, but before she could reach Byron, the seventeen-year-old boy collapsed in the bed already, his head hung low with a face as white as paper.