My Adoptive Brother's Obsession: He Only Wanted ame After Losing Me
"Just watch... I'll take you away from that deceitful woman."
Yvette whispered softly, but the resolve in her heart was unshakable.
Her heart shattered as she witnessed the wedding of Aaron-the man she had loved for so long, the very same adoptive brother who once gave her a sense of home-to another woman.
It was no secret.
Aaron knew how she felt.
And yet, he still chose to marry someone else... as if Yvette's love had never meant a thing.
Just when she tried to accept that painful reality, she uncovered a truth far more devastating.
Belinda... was not as kind as she seemed.
The cunning hidden behind her gentle smile only made it harder for Yvette to let go-only strengthened her belief that the man she loved had fallen into the wrong hands.
The love she had once buried deep within her heart had now twisted into something far darker.
An obsession.
Yvette no longer wished to surrender.
She would take back what was meant to be hers... by any means necessary.
Even if it meant destroying their marriage.
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Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Fifteen years ago...
Thud!
Suddenly, from the doorway, a little girl of five was shoved out of the house with brutal force.
Her frail, slender body stood no chance against the strength of an adult man. The impact sent her stumbling hard onto the ground, her skin instantly scraped and bruised.
Yvette Kylie.
A pitiful child who lived with her uncle and aunt after losing both of her parents a year ago.
"You useless brat! Why didn't you just die along with your parents, huh?!" The man's furious roar echoed, his large frame looming over her like a monster.
Yvette trembled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, Uncle... don't throw me out~"
The cruel man, reeking of alcohol, grabbed her ear mercilessly and yanked it upward.
Albert Kylie.
Yvette's biological uncle. The younger brother of her late father, William Kylie.
"Ah, it hurts!" she cried out in pain.
It felt as though her ear would be torn off at any second.
"You'll sleep outside tonight!" Albert barked, shoving her small body out onto the porch once more.
The heavy rain that had been pouring since earlier drenched her instantly. The thin garment she wore could hardly be called clothing-it was more like a rag, patched over and over again.
Yvette collapsed under the relentless rain that night. Meanwhile, from inside the house, Albert's children laughed and mocked her.
"Poor little orphan!" they jeered.
The Kylie household knew no gratitude. The very house they lived in belonged to Yvette, yet because her custody had fallen into Albert's hands, he treated her however he pleased-even squandering her family's wealth for his own indulgence.
Yvette slowly pushed herself up.
She sat on the cold ground, hugging her body tightly.
"Hiks... hiks... hiks... Father, Mother... I miss you..." she sobbed.
She wiped her tears again and again.
But the more she tried to stop them, the more they flowed.
Her palms were covered in small scars.
The cold air pierced through her skin.
Once as pale and soft as snow, her complexion had now dulled, darkened like charred ash.
Growl...
Hunger crept in, gnawing at her stomach. She clutched it tightly, hoping the pain would somehow disappear.
Maybe I should just sleep... then I won't feel hungry anymore, she thought.
She squeezed her eyes shut with all her strength.
And slowly, those beautiful golden-brown eyes drifted closed.
-----
Splash!
"Hah?!"
Yvette jolted awake as cold water was suddenly thrown over her.
"Hahahaha..."
That irritating laughter rang in her ears.
She looked up.
A woman wearing a kitchen apron stood before her, accompanied by a boy and a girl.
Emily-Albert's wife.
And their children, Laura and Louis.
"Hey, wake up! Do you even know what time it is?!" Emily snapped.
"S-Sorry, Aunt..." Yvette stammered, fear evident in her voice.
Emily grabbed Yvette's clothes harshly, tearing the worn fabric at the shoulder.
She dragged the poor child toward the kitchen.
"Here. Wash all these dishes!"
"But... I'm hungry, Aunt..."
Emily narrowed her eyes. "Food, food, food! That's all you ever think about! Finish the dishes first, then you can eat!"
Sniffling, Yvette nodded obediently. "Y-Yes..."
"As if she deserves it! That's what you get for being poor and an orphan!" Laura sneered, despite being no different in age.
And so, Yvette began washing the dishes.
A towering pile of them.
A task far too heavy for a child her age.
"Father... Mother..." she whispered.
Her stomach continued to growl relentlessly. She hadn't eaten anything since the previous night.
It took a long time before she finally finished.
Once done, she hurried toward the cabinet where the food was usually stored.
Hope flickered across her face as she opened it.
But it vanished instantly.
There was nothing inside-only a few empty plates.
Tears welled up again.
She rushed to the refrigerator.
Maybe there would be something there.
But it was the same.
Empty.
"Hiks... hiks... hiks..."
The little girl cried once more, silently.
Her uncle's family was truly heartless.
"Why are you crying? No food left?" Louis mocked, the twelve-year-old chewing gum lazily.
Yvette looked at him, tears in her eyes-but there was something else too.
A sharp, piercing glare.
Louis frowned, annoyed by her gaze.
"You ungrateful brat! How dare you look at me like that?!" he snapped.
Annoyed, he pulled the gum from his mouth and deliberately stuck it onto Yvette's hair.
"Don't, Louis!"
Too late.
The sticky pink lump clung firmly to the top of her head.
Yvette tried to pull it off.
But it wouldn't budge.
"What? It's stuck? Here, let me help you!" Louis said, grinning as he grabbed a pair of scissors from the drawer.
"Don't!"
Louis, much bigger than her, grabbed her hair roughly.
Yvette had no strength to resist-especially on an empty stomach.
"Hiks... hiks... hiks..."
Her cries grew louder.
Her long, beautiful hair was soon cut short-uneven and jagged like a boy's.
Her late mother had loved her hair.
Yvette stared at the strands falling to the floor.
"Mother..."
"Hahahaha!" Louis laughed triumphantly at his handiwork.
Her hair was ruined-patchy and uneven.
Pathetic.
Yvette clenched her fists.
Summoning all her remaining strength, she shoved Louis hard.
Caught off guard, he stumbled and fell.
"You-!"
"Louis!" Emily shouted, rushing over.
Yvette's shoulders rose and fell rapidly.
She looked utterly exhausted.
"It was that orphan, Mom!" Louis complained.
Emily's face darkened instantly.
Her eyes burned with fury as she glared at Yvette.
"You ungrateful child!" she snapped, grabbing Yvette's arm harshly.
"It hurts!" Yvette cried.
But Emily didn't care.
She dragged her to the back of the house, where a large fish pond lay.
Without hesitation, Emily grabbed Yvette's head and shoved it underwater.
Seconds later, she pulled her up-
"Ahh-! Please-"
-and forced her down again.
Over and over.
Each time, Yvette gasped for air, her lungs burning.
It felt as if death itself was reaching out for her.
Emily continued until she was satisfied.
Louis watched with a grin.
"Hah... cough... cough..." Yvette collapsed, coughing violently. Her clothes were soaked, her eyes red, her breathing ragged.
"Remember this. Don't you dare do that to my children again," Emily warned coldly before walking away.
Louis lingered for a moment, flicking her forehead.
"Stupid orphan," he muttered before leaving.
-----
A small, dark room.
No-
It wasn't even a room.
It was more like a storage space filled with unused furniture.
Rats and cockroaches scurried about freely.
This... was Yvette's room.
She stood before a cracked mirror.
Her reflection was pitiful.
Her clothes were torn and soaked.
Her hair uneven, half-shaved like a boy's.
Her arms covered in scars.
"I have to leave this place."
Her voice was quiet-
But her resolve was absolute.
To be continued...
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7.9
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Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body.
Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union."
Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."
Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless.
But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place.
Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms.
When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route.
What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected.
He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years.
And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely.
9.5
Alina was the eldest daughter of the prestigious Padilla family, but everyone mocked her as a defective dud who couldn't cast a single spell.
The moment she woke up, her father and younger sister Karina barged into her room, demanding she sign a transfer agreement to the Aethelgard Order-the most brutal faction on the continent.
It wasn't just a transfer; it was a legal disownment. In her past life, Alina didn't realize Karina was also reborn. She had dropped to her knees and begged to stay. Her reward? Her magic was violently drained from her veins by her own family. Her fiancé drove a blade through her chest, and her sister stood over her bleeding body, smiling. She had ruined her hands making potions for them, only to be discarded like trash.
The phantom pain of her chest being ripped open still burned behind her ribs. Looking at the hypocritical family waiting for her tears, she felt nothing but exhausting disgust. Why should she ever be their stepping stone again?
"For the honor of the family, you leave today."
Her father sneered as she calmly bit her thumb and pressed her bloody fingerprint onto the contract. This time, Alina didn't cry. She packed a single bag and walked out the door, heading straight for the deadly Aethelgard Order to show them what a true monster looked like.
7.5
He wasn't supposed to notice her.
She wasn't supposed to want him.
And her daughter definitely wasn't supposed to fall in love with him first.
"He's not just dangerous," she whispers to herself . "He's the kind of man who ruins your life slowly... and makes you thank him for it."
He rides loud.
He loves hard.
And once he wants something, he doesn't let go.
"You don't get to look at me like that," she tells him.
His smile is slow. Predatory. Certain.
"I already did," he says. "And now you're mine."
She's a single mother barely holding it together.
He's a biker king with blood on his hands and loyalty carved into his bones.
Their worlds should never touch.
But they collide anyway.
"You think I don't know what you're doing to me?" he growls.
Her back hits the wall. His body cages her in.
"You think I'd touch you if I didn't plan to keep you?"
This isn't a sweet romance.
It's raw. Possessive. Unforgiving.
The kind of love that marks you.
"Mummy," her daughter says softly, holding his hand.
"Can he stay forever?"
He shouldn't want them.
But the idea of leaving them hurts worse than any knife.
"I don't share," he tells her in the dark.
"Not my bike. Not my club. And definitely not my woman."
One kiss turns into hunger.
One night turns into obsession.
And one choice could burn everything down.
"If you climb on my bike," he warns, voice low and lethal,
"you don't get off unchanged."
7.9
On our third wedding anniversary, my husband skipped our celebration to comfort his fragile adopted sister.
When I went to look for him in the middle of the night, I saw them intimately kissing in bed.
"She is a spoiled heiress who cannot live without me. Let her wait."
He scoffed to his sister, calling me a pathetic, clingy dog waiting for a scrap of attention.
For three years, I gave up my career as a top surgeon and managed his estate like a compliant housewife.
I swallowed my pride because my dying father desperately needed an experimental drug controlled by my husband's company.
But when my father accidentally overheard how my husband humiliated me, the guilt gave him a severe heart attack.
Waking up in the ICU, my father grabbed my hand and ordered me to divorce him.
When I finally handed my husband the divorce papers on the street, he flew into a violent rage.
"If you file these, I will cut off your father's medicine and leave you with nothing!"
He threatened me, thinking I would drop to my knees and beg for his mercy.
He didn't know that my personal trust fund was the only thing keeping his entire over-leveraged company from going bankrupt.
I smiled calmly and executed the secret clause to instantly withdraw my two hundred million dollars.
This time, I chose to burn his family's empire to the ground.
7.4
I was the heiress to the Sterling Group, engaged to Brook, the ultimate Wall Street savior who stepped in with emergency capital when my family's company faced sudden bankruptcy.
But one morning, I accidentally answered his hidden burner phone.
It was my sweet best friend, Chelsey. Through the speaker, I heard them laughing about how they successfully framed my brother for an eight-year federal prison sentence just to get the Sterling heir out of the way.
Worse, Brook casually admitted he had bribed the nurses at the private facility to swap my father's life-saving heart medication with placebos.
"Nature will take its course," he said coldly.
He was paying to let my father die so he could drain my last architectural patents, transfer them to his own enterprise, and kick me to the curb. Seconds later, Brook walked into the bedroom, brushed my hair behind my ear, and lovingly called me his sleeping beauty.
A wave of pure, physical nausea crashed over me. The man I was about to marry, the man the media praised as a fiercely devoted hero, was the monster orchestrating my family's complete destruction.
Tears were a luxury I could no longer afford.
I didn't scream, and I didn't confront him. Instead, I washed my face, slid the five-carat diamond ring back onto my finger, and drove straight to his headquarters.
If he wanted to use my family's tragedy to build his empire, I would play the perfect, broken fiancée—right until I burned it all to the ground.
8.0
Corinna moved through a high-society gala, a powerful woman now commanding respect. Three years ago, the influential Rios family had cast her aside, viewing her as a liability. Now, after countless battles in a D.C. think tank, she wielded her newfound power with precision.
As her armored SUV navigated rain-slicked Manhattan, a convoy of black Navigators abruptly cut it off. Graham Rios, the man who’d abandoned her, emerged from the storm like a madman, his political mask gone. He marched toward her car, screaming her name against the thunder.
Corinna remained still, coolly sipping wine. She lowered her window just two inches, then slid a folder through, its sharp edge slicing his hand. The document revealed his business project was now controlled by his fiercest enemy, Lucian Lu. Later, she subtly revealed a brutal scar on her wrist, a wound Graham frantically tried to understand.
The scar haunted Graham. Driven by panic, he forced his aide to confess a secret detour from three years ago: Corinna had visited a private maternity hospital. The revelation sent a high-pitched ringing through his ears, as he struggled to comprehend her visit.
Consumed by guilt, Graham hacked the hospital's old files, finding a heavily encrypted medical record under Corinna's name. It stated: "Gestation: 12 weeks. Fetal heartbeat: critically weak. Recommendation: Immediate termination of pregnancy." The words crushed him. Corinna, watching him fall into her trap, knew he had swallowed the exact "truth" she needed.