The day started like any other. I woke before sunrise, slipped on my uniform, and moved quietly through the house so as not to wake Mrs. Olivia. The city outside was already stirring—cars honking, people moving with that lazy early-morning rhythm—but my mind was focused entirely on one thing: the envelope.
The words still burned in my memory:
I know who you are.
It was during third period, in the quiet hum of the library, that I saw her.
A girl… small, almost fragile, with hair that shimmered like spun chestnut under the fluorescent lights. She looked… familiar, in a way I couldn't immediately place.
I frowned.
She sat at a table alone, eyes scanning the books with a mix of calculation and curiosity. Something about her presence prickled my skin, an instinct I hadn't felt in years—danger.
I scanned her carefully, letting my gaze linger without being obvious. She glanced up. Our eyes met.
And then… recognition.
Not mine. Mine was still forming. Hers? Clear. Sharp. Immediate.
She knew me.
Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. My heart skipped—not with fear, but with intrigue.
I moved closer to the shelves, pretending to browse, letting her think she had the advantage.
It took only seconds before I noticed the truth: she was… fourteen days older than me. How had I missed this? She wasn't in my class—she was just below me, one grade lower. That explained the invisibility. But she had known who I was immediately.
Isabella.
Half-sister.
And now, a threat.
After school, I found myself near the courtyard, pacing deliberately, waiting for Liam. My mind was restless, spinning webs of strategy and possible outcomes.
And then she appeared.
"Crystal Whitman," she said, voice soft but pointed, carrying that unnerving calm that made people shift in their seats.
I froze. My mind raced. How much did she know? How long had she been watching?
"I didn't think I'd run into you so soon," I said slowly, keeping my tone neutral.
"I always notice things," Isabella replied, tilting her head. Her gaze was sharp, evaluating, calculating. "Especially people like… you."
I swallowed. People like me… my instincts kicked in. Danger. Always danger.
"What do you know about me?" I said carefully, letting curiosity mask suspicion.
"I know enough," she said with a sly smile. "I saw the letter you got. Very dramatic."
I narrowed my eyes. "You sent it?"
Her eyes flickered, just slightly, with mischief. "Of course. What fun would it be otherwise?"
She stepped closer, dangerously close. "I've been waiting for this day, Crystal. You, with your perfect name and perfect plans… and Liam."
I felt my blood tighten. "You… know about him?"
"Of course I do," she whispered, almost taunting. "He's mine. Or at least… he will be. And you—you're in my way."
Her words hit like ice. My first conquest. My first target. My perfect pawn… threatened by a child barely a year younger than me.
I kept my expression calm, mask in place. But inside, the calculations began. This wasn't a girl to dismiss. She had resources, knowledge, and—most importantly—ambition.
A half-sister, just fourteen days older… and she wanted to win everything I had.
"I suggest you stay out of my way," I said softly, keeping my voice even. "This isn't a game you can win."
Her smile widened. "Oh, I think it is. You think you've planned everything. But I've been watching you longer than you know. I know your habits, your patterns. I know how you move, who you charm, and how easily you fall for your own illusions."
I stiffened. She was correct. She did know too much.
But I had trained for threats like this my entire life. I didn't falter. I stepped closer. "You think you're ready to play with me?"
Her eyes sparkled with malicious excitement. "I've been ready. I just needed the perfect moment."
The following days, Isabella moved subtly. She tried small things—commenting to Liam in passing, creating opportunities to catch my attention, positioning herself strategically in the cafeteria.
It was clever. And dangerous.
I watched her, learning her patterns as she learned mine.
The rivalry was… delicious.
For the first time in years, I had someone I couldn't fully predict. Someone I couldn't fully control.
Liam, of course, noticed the tension. He began splitting his attention between us, his confusion obvious. And I let him… just enough.
Because every game is more intoxicating when the stakes rise.
That night, I sat at my desk, the letter and her words running through my mind.
She's fourteen days older. She knows about Liam. She wants to win.
I allowed a small, cold smile to form. Good.
Because the rules of engagement had changed.
No longer was I manipulating just one boy. No longer was I simply testing loyalty.
Now I had a rival. A shadow in my perfect world.
And I loved the challenge.
I picked up my pen and wrote down her name in my notebook:
Isabella Reed – half-sister, fourteen days older, threat level: extreme.
Below it, I wrote one word:
Target.
From that moment, my world split into two currents.
One: Liam, my first conquest. A boy to charm, to bend, to test.
Two: Isabella, my shadow, my rival, the first person who could possibly beat me at my own game.
I couldn't predict her moves yet. I couldn't control her. But I could anticipate.
And anticipation is the first step to domination.
I whispered into the darkness of my room, letting the thrill of the challenge course through me:
"So you want to play, sister? Fine. Let's see who wins."
Because Crystal Whitman never lost.
And if Isabella thought she could take my world, she had no idea what she was really up against.