I had been told on my mothers deathbed that I had been adopted.  I loved her desperately and could not find it in myself to even think of holding it against her for not telling me sooner.  My father died a few years earlier. Even if she had not told him on her deathbed I would have found out anyway as it was included in their will that I be told this information along with the remainder of their estate which was easily worth several million dollars.<br/><br/>With no family remaining, at least none related to the family that raised me I channeled my energy into finding my biological family.   I hired a private detective to locate them and this was accomplished in less then a couple of weeks.  I saw his biological family's name was Thomas.  That was the first information he read on the information slip and he immediately wondered how his first name sounded with his bio name.  Brandon Thomas.  "Not bad" I thought as I was imagining all sorts of horrible names.  Not that I  was gong to change my name but he didn't like the idea that he was the descendant of a family withsome idiotic sounding name.  Scanning down the list he saw that the family had one daughter.  It was checked upon that that she was his full bio sister and that she herself was not adopted.  She was a twenty year old.  He was two years older.  Finally he rushed down to the bottom of the page where there address was revealed.   He couldn't believe his luck when the address revealed that they were a mere thirty minutes away.<br/><br/>The day was cool and I decided to go outside for a cigarette and would  never smoke in the house.  I was smoking quite a bit since the loss of my mother but now I was down to less than half a pack a day. In spite of my smoking I was still able to keep up my workouts at the gym but they were getting more difficult.  This was just added incentive to quit.  I usually did five miles on the StairMaster three times a week and twice a week he would work on lots of situps, pushups, and an assortment of free weights to maintain my muscle tone which was quite impressive by most standards. My physique and general good looks combined with my wealth and quiet nature made others think of me as a snob.  In reality I enjoyed listening more than talking.  I was raised with the creed "Empty barrels make the most noise."  Just another way of saying that those with the least to say usually say the most.<br/><br/>While enjoying my smoke I began to imagine what my sister would look like.  How weird is that to meet someone who is your own flesh and blood and yet in twenty years you have yet to meet.  "Fuck it" I said and I simply jumped in my new Lexus and drove off to find their house.  As far as the car was concerned my friend always told me to drive something more adventurous since I had the money but I found the car quite attractive and I thought it drove great.  If I wanted to splurge on something I would but I saw no reason to spend money on a Vette or a Porche as I just found those cars too flashy.  When I wanted thrill I would get my chromed out Harley for a drive.<br/><br/>During the drive to their house I decided to stake out the house and watch who comes in and out.  Sure enough a young woman around twenty just came out of the car..........<br/>