The Maybach

At 6:50 the next morning, I woke to the sound of plastic crackling.

Crack.

Crack.

Clatter.

I pulled the blanket over my head.

The sound grew louder.

Someone was rummaging through bottles, brushes, compacts, and snack wrappers like a raccoon in a luxury dumpster.

I checked the time.

6:50.

“Who is making noise this early?” I snapped.

The noise paused.

Then continued.

Louder.

I yanked open my curtain.

Brianna sat at her desk eating cookies while applying a full face of makeup.

Full face.

For military training.

“Are you insane?” I hissed. “People are sleeping. Keep it down.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I have a boyfriend. Of course I need makeup. Unlike single people.”

The whole dorm heard her.

Beds rustled.

My temper rose so fast I nearly climbed down and dragged her out myself.

Then I remembered the pregnancy.

Fine.

I would not fight a pregnant woman before breakfast.

“Whether it is seven or noon,” I said through clenched teeth, “if people are sleeping, you lower your volume. If I hear that noise again, pregnant or not, I will throw you outside.”

Brianna glared at me.

But finally quieted.

Military training began under a sun that personally hated me.

By noon, I was sitting on the field with Tina, both of us half-dead.

Brianna had escaped training using “period cramps” as an excuse.

Pregnant and on her period.

Interesting biology.

Rachel cursed softly while looking at her phone.

Tina blinked.

“Wow. Even Rachel is swearing. This training really is unreasonable.”

Rachel showed us the dorm group chat.

Brianna had sent a long message.

She said her stomach hurt and she feared something was wrong with the baby, so she had returned to the dorm. She asked us to bring her lunch.

Except “bring lunch” apparently meant full service.

Soup.

Rice.

Two meat dishes.

Fruit.

Something sour.

Something spicy.

Dessert.

Then she added:

These are good for the baby. As the baby’s godmothers, you should remember.

Tina looked ready to throw her water bottle.

“She didn’t train. She didn’t stand in the sun. She ran off somewhere and now wants us to serve her a banquet?”

Rachel, being too kind for this world, still bought her food.

Tina dragged me outside campus to eat.

At the school gate, we saw Brianna.

Definitely not in the dorm.

She was smiling brightly as she climbed into a black Maybach.

The car drove away.

I stared at the license plate.

Familiar.

Too familiar.

That was my brother’s car.

But Ethan said he did not know her.

I took out my phone and called him.

No answer.

Fine.

I would ask later.

That evening, after training, the four of us returned to the dorm like dried fish.

Brianna came back glowing.

She raised her wrist.

“Look, loves. My husband bought me a gift.”

A Van Cleef bracelet.

I climbed halfway out of bed.

“Wow,” I said, forcing curiosity. “Your boyfriend treats you well. What does he look like? I’ve never seen this legendary CEO.”

Brianna narrowed her eyes.

“Why? Want to steal him?”

I nearly laughed.

Then she could not resist showing off and opened a photo.

“Look. Handsome, right?”

I looked.

My brain stopped.

Not my brother.

My cousin.

Jason Guo.

That useless, good-looking leech.

He was technically connected to Guotai, yes. Recently my uncle had begged my father to arrange him a job, and Ethan had been forced to keep him as an assistant.

Jason had no ability, no discipline, and a long history of cheating money out of women.

Especially rich women.

He was engaged to a wealthy self-made businesswoman in her forties.

Their wedding was next month.

I had eaten at the engagement banquet.

Now Brianna was pregnant with his child.

I looked at her.

Suddenly, I felt a little pity.

“Brianna,” I said carefully, “how did you meet him? I heard this Guotai executive may already have a fiancée.”

Her face changed instantly.

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

“I’m just—”

“You’re jealous!” she snapped. “I knew it. You asked for his photo because you want to steal him!”

My pity died.

Some people do not deserve rescue.

“Fine,” I said, lying back down. “Bite the hand trying to help you. Good luck.”

Brianna kept ranting below.

I opened my phone and texted Ethan.

Why did Jason drive your car today?

Ethan replied soon.

Uncle begged Dad to let that idiot work at the company. Dad put him under me. He’s useless and annoying, so when he asked to borrow the car two days ago, I let him. Peace at last.

I closed my eyes.

So that was it.

Brianna had not caught a CEO.

She had caught a fraud in a borrowed Maybach.