Part 3The Jerk I Blocked Is My Stepbrother

Asher gripped his phone so tightly I thought the case would crack.

Mr. Reed frowned. “What’s with the phone at the table? Did you forget your manners?”

Asher suddenly stood up.

“I’m full.”

He turned, clutched the phone, and bolted up the stairs without looking back.

“What the hell is wrong with that boy?” Mr. Reed slammed his chopsticks on the table.

My mom offered an awkward smile. “Maybe… the competition is stressing him out.”

I lowered my head and sipped my soup, hiding the smirk at the corner of my mouth.

Back in my room, I pulled out the burner phone.

The screen was full of messages Asher had sent.

I won’t annoy you anymore.

I’ll shut up.

Just don’t be mad.

Anything. Just don’t block me again.

Baby…

The last one was a 60-second voice message.

I put on my headphones and pressed play.

After a moment of static, I heard Asher’s low, ragged breathing.

“I’m sorry…”

His voice was hoarse, trembling noticeably.

“I honestly don’t know what to do.”

“I’ve never liked anyone before. You’re the first.”

“I’m scared you’ll think I’m pathetic, scared you’ll think I’m boring, scared you’ll go find someone else…”

“I only have the guts to tell you this online.”

“In real life… things are bad.”

“No one likes me. I hate everyone. Only you, Rose. Only you listen to me and play games with me.”

“Please, don’t leave me, okay?”

My scalp prickled.

Was this really Asher?

I could picture him hiding in his room, recording this voice note with red eyes.

It was ridiculous.

I took off the headphones, unable to listen anymore.

Just then, there was a knock at my door.

I walked over and opened it.

Asher stood in the hallway shadow.

He was looking down, his fringe covering his eyes, making his expression unreadable.

Most of his anger was gone, replaced by a defeated, powerless slump.

“What is it?” I asked coldly.

He lifted his head.

His eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he’d been crying.

But the moment he saw me, he snapped back to his usual icy, deadpan mask. The speed was startling.

“You took the money.”

His voice was hoarse. “Have you figured out a solution?”

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms.

“I have.”

“What?” He urgently stepped closer.

“Break up with her,” I said. “If it’s this painful, just let each other go.”

Asher’s face instantly darkened.

The fleeting vulnerability vanished, replaced by a terrifying rage.

He grabbed my collar and shoved me hard against the doorframe.

“Sloan, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I told you to figure out how to get her back, not convince me to break up!”

“Break up? Never in this lifetime!”

He was yelling, his voice loud.

His eyes were veined with red.

I was choking, desperately batting at his hand.

“Cough… Let go…”

Asher abruptly released me.

I clutched my neck, coughing violently.

He looked down at me, his eyes cold as ice.

“Don’t let me hear those two words again.”

“Or I’ll make sure you can’t stay in this house.”

With that, he turned and went back into his room, slamming the door shut. The enormous sound shook the wall.

Leaning against the wall, gasping for air, I reached for my burner phone without a second thought, typing out one last message:

We’re breaking up.

This time it’s for good.

Send.

The next second, a massive crash came from the room next door, followed by the sound of breaking glass.

Then, Asher’s heart-wrenching scream.

“Ah—!”