My Sister's Fiancé is Jealous that She Chooses Me First

My sister has always been obsessed with me—in an overprotective kind of way. When we were ten, she almost got kidnapped. But I took her place. I climbed into the van instead. They ransomed me back eventually, but not before they slashed up my face and shattered both of my legs. After that, something in her changed. She threw herself into our father’s business, clawed her way through the wreckage, and built it back up from nothing. To the rest of the world, she became a terrifying figure—untouchable, ruthless. But to me? I was her everything. Her soft spot. Her one weakness. Once, someone called me a freak. My sister stuffed the bastard’s head into a sack of rats until his face was unrecognizable. Another time, someone mocked me for being a cripple. My sister ran over the bastard’s legs with a steamroller… and turned him into paste. In San Diego, they called her the Queen of Hell. But in our home, she was sweet like an angel. She spent a fortune sending me to London—for reconstructive surgery, for physical therapy, for college. Just before I came back to L.A., she sent me a wedding invitation. [You’ll finally have a brother-in-law who’ll spoil you too] She texted me along with a picture of the guy. But the moment I stepped into her villa, everything went to hell. That same man—my so-called future brother-in-law—kicked the door down with a gang of thugs behind him. He thought I was just my sister’s soft, foreign-raised brother—and he took it as permission to treat me like crap. When my sister finally showed up, he pointed down at me, bruised and bleeding on the floor. “You’re picking that damn freak over me?!” he shouted. My sister’s eyes were glassy but burning with vengeance. “How many lives,” she asked, “do you think you’re worth compared to him?!”