Lucas Lee had learned early that silence was power.
He was sixteen when the call came — his parents' car had skidded on a rain-slick highway near Penang, spun twice, then flipped into a ravine. The next time he saw their faces, they were pale, too still, in matching coffins.
He remembered sitting in the front pew, numb, while nine-year-old Ryan clung to his sleeve, asking when Mom would wake up.
Lucas had not cried.
He didn't cry when he signed the guardianship papers, when their relatives descended like vultures over the family law firm, when his father's trusted partners began maneuvering to split assets. He had simply stepped in, quiet and efficient, finishing high school early, diving into law school by nineteen.
Because someone had to keep the world from falling apart.
Because Ryan needed someone to stay.
And Lucas had promised himself that no matter what happened — no matter who tried to manipulate or disappoint or leave — he would never, ever let anyone harm his brother.
That was the first rule.
The second was: never trust strangers who arrived with perfect smiles and perfect stories.
Which brought him to Emily Chen.
Lucas sipped his long black in silence, seated at a corner table of a quiet café in Mont Kiara. It was two days after the dinner. He hadn't told Ryan, but he'd asked someone from his firm's research team to run a soft background check on her. Nothing invasive. Just… prudent.
Student at University Malaya. Final-year architecture assistant. Mother deceased. Father—once owned a small repair shop in Petaling Jaya, now under treatment for heart complications. Emily worked two part-time jobs: private tutoring and boutique sales at Suria KLCC.
Clean. Too clean.
And yet—
Lucas remembered the way she'd looked at Ryan during dessert. Not just affection — a kind of protective warmth that unsettled him.
He didn't believe in fairy tales. People didn't just fall in love during debt and desperation. Not without a price.
His phone buzzed.
Ryan.
"Don't wait for me tonight. Meeting Kai to talk things through."
Lucas's jaw tightened.
Kai. He hadn't seen him in over a year, but the name still carried weight. Lucas had never liked the man — too slick, too evasive. Ryan had changed since being with him: more withdrawn, more anxious. Lucas had once caught Kai flipping through Ryan's messages while Ryan slept on the couch. Kai had laughed it off.
Lucas hadn't.
He opened a file folder beside his coffee, flipping through photos. One caught his attention: Emily and Ryan standing outside a florist. Ryan held a bouquet. Emily was laughing, one hand raised as if to push his shoulder. It looked… real.
But Lucas knew better. That kind of moment could be staged.
He leaned back in his chair, jaw clenched.
Later that evening, Lucas stood in his condo's study, looking out at the skyline of Kuala Lumpur. The city shimmered under humidity and streetlight glow — a metropolis that promised opportunity and delivered pressure.
He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the ice clinking sharply.
He hadn't meant to be cruel during dinner. But he had seen too many contracts, too many deals wrapped in sweetness and sealed in betrayal. His work had made him cynical — efficient, sharp, detached.
But with Ryan, he could never detach.
Ryan was the last piece of family he had. And now he was talking about marriage. Six months in, barely out of a rocky relationship with Kai, and suddenly "in love" with a girl Lucas had never heard of until last week?
No.
It didn't sit right.
Yet… something about Emily's eyes stayed with him. They were tired, but steady. Cautious, but not calculating. She hadn't flinched when he pressed her. She hadn't tried to charm or over-explain.
She'd simply answered, and looked him in the eye while doing it.
Lucas hated that it impressed him.
The next day, he arrived early at the Damansara Heights office. A junior associate handed him a folder of contracts to review. As he scanned the documents, his thoughts kept drifting.
Not to Emily.
But to Ryan.
What had he missed?
He opened his phone, scrolling through old photos: their childhood in Ipoh, teenage years in boarding school, the first time Ryan brought Kai home. Ryan had looked happy — in that reckless, clumsy way he always did when chasing something new.
But recently?
Lucas had noticed the changes. Ryan laughed less. Slept more. Dodged questions. Avoided family dinners.
He didn't want to interfere. But something about this whole engagement felt like a smokescreen.
Lucas tapped his pen on the table.
He would dig deeper. Quietly. No confrontation yet. Just… observation.
Because if this was a lie, he needed to know.And if it wasn't—
Then maybe, just maybe, his little brother had grown up more than Lucas had realized.