Brothers Regret When They Lost Me novel Chapter 2

Zara's cold, ghostly voice lingered by Rosalie's ear, wrapping around her like a haunting spirit.

Rosalie shuddered before she could stop herself. Shame and anger twisted inside her chest.

"Zara, are you insane?" she snapped.

She never expected Zara—the stupid, timid loser she'd always looked down on—to dare treat her like this. The gentle mask she wore shattered, and her face contorted with rage.

But when she met Zara's eyes, a chill shot up her spine.

Zara's face was as pretty as ever, the kind of beauty that always made Rosalie jealous.

Normally, Zara would put on that pathetic, eager-to-please look, the kind that made Rosalie think she was stupid and disgusting.

But now—even with blood dripping down her cheek from the split in her forehead, looking a complete mess—Zara looked striking and confident.

What truly unsettled Rosalie was the calm, steady look in Zara's eyes. The quiet authority in them reminded her of the rest of the Sterling family.

Rosalie's face twisted again. She hated Zara's face, her eyes, everything about her—because Zara's very existence was a reminder that she, Rosalie, was just a fraud who had stolen another girl's life.

Panic surged through Rosalie. She would never let Zara take back what she had stolen.

Suddenly, someone hammered on the hospital room door so hard it shook on its hinges.

From outside came a furious voice, dripping with disgust. "Zara, open the door!"

At that moment, Rosalie's eyes gleamed with wild delight. She glanced at the blood-soaked bandage on her wrist and smiled, twisted and triumphant. "Zara, you're done for."

The next moment, she switched her face to one of terror. Tears filled her voice as she screamed, "Julian, Zara's gone crazy—she's trying to kill me!"

"Rosalie!" the man barked from outside, his voice going tight with anger and urgency. He started pounding on the hospital door, each blow harder than the last.

As he slammed into the door, he cursed through clenched teeth, "Zara, open up! If you dare hurt Rosalie, you'll regret it."

Moments later, the door burst open. A tall man in a purple uniform strode inside.

It was Julian Sterling—one of Zara's brothers.

Julian's eyes burned with rage as he glared at Zara, but when his gaze locked onto her face, he froze—the shock evident as his eyes narrowed.

It was still that face he knew so well, but now her features carried a restless arrogance, a lazy, almost regal defiance.

As their eyes met, Zara's gaze lifted, calm and unaffected. She no longer looked like the pitiful girl who used to throw herself at him, begging for attention.

Julian frowned, thrown off by this new version of Zara.

But his attention quickly shifted to the bright red bandage on Rosalie's wrist.

"Rosalie!" Julian's voice was tight with worry as he rushed forward, staring at Rosalie's bleeding wrist. "Zara, what are you doing? Let her go."

As Julian rushed over, Zara carelessly flicked Rosalie's hand aside like it was some piece of garbage.

Julian didn't have the talent to reach the Master level, but he'd been trained in combat since childhood under the guidance of skilled mentors. With the Sterling family pouring endless money and effort into his training, he had still become a high-level Fighter.

But now, he'd been slapped by Zara, the useless girl he'd always looked down on. To Julian, it was a deep humiliation.

However, he soon convinced himself that he'd only been caught off guard. He was sure that if he hadn't let his guard down, Zara would've never landed that hit.

He thought bitterly, 'She really is a rude country girl. A whole year in our house and she's still the same wild, uneducated thing. I don't want a savage like her for a sister.'

He even regretted not killing Zara before their parents brought her home. That way, the sweet, gentle Rosalie could've been the Sterling family's only heiress—his only sister.

"It's all my fault," Rosalie sobbed softly, pressing her hand to Julian's swollen cheek. "I never should've come into this family. I stole nineteen years of Zara's life..."

She'd always had that sweet, fragile look, and now, with her eyes red and full of tears, she was the very picture of misery. Julian's heart twisted for her; seeing her like this, he forgot all about the pain stinging his own face.

Thinking about how Rosalie only hurt herself because Zara lost it, Julian's rage boiled over once again. "The one who shouldn't have come home is Zara!"

"Rosalie, you didn't steal anyone's life. Zara's the one who should've been gone!" he snapped, eyes filled with pure loathing as he stared Zara down, practically snarling every word. "Zara, why the hell didn't you die out there?"

Zara met his gaze coolly. Her heart no longer hurt—only numbness remained.

The look he gave her now was the spitting image of how the Sterlings had gazed at her as she lay dying in her previous life—cold, merciless, exactly the same.

Zara's crimson lips curved into a faint, mocking smile.

With a tone so light and casual that it almost sounded eerie, she said, "I crawled out of hell. How could I die before watching your whole family burn?"