Claimed By My Ex’s Stepbrother

Tessa pushed open the glass doors of the hotel, her hands trembling as she walked down the marble stairs. When she looked up, Roman was staring at her like he’d just made a deal he regretted.

She had signed the contract. She had gotten more compensation than she had ever imagined. And when the time came, he would take the baby. This was supposed to be good, she told herself.

“Tessa,” Roman called out. “I’ll be leaving now.”

One of his bodyguards opened the car door for him. He slid in, adjusting his dark glasses.

Then his eyes narrowed, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “What happened to your lips?” he asked darkly.

“What do you mean?” Tessa tried to sound confused.

“Your lips are bruised,” he said, reaching up to tilt her face so he could inspect her. “What happened?”

Her fingers brushed over her lips, and the sting burned into her flesh where Grayson had hit her.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “I fell, that’s all.”

He looked at her like he knew she was lying but didn’t want to press.

“You must be more careful now that you’re carrying my child, Miss Quinn.”

“Yes, Mr. Blackwood,” she said softly.

He nodded once, tapped her shoulder, and then his car drove off without another word.

Tessa turned to leave and froze.

Across the street, a figure stood beside a black sedan, the sunlight catching on his face just enough for her stomach to drop.

Grayson.

She didn’t know how long he had been there or what he had seen, but the way he was standing—rigid, his jaw set—made her skin crawl. His arms hung at his sides, his fists clenched like he was holding himself back from breaking something. Or someone.

He started walking toward her, each step slow but deliberate, like someone chasing after its prey.

“Grayson?” Her voice came out thin and trembling. “What are you doing here?”

“Really? What am I doing here?” He folded his arms across his chest. “The real question is what’s a cheap thing like you doing coming out of a hotel you can’t afford?”

She scoffed, already tired. “You know what, Grayson? That’s enough. Why are you following me?”

“Following you?” His laugh was low and sharp. “Please. I’m here to see the manager of this damn hotel, who just happens to be my—”

“Just stop!” she cut him off before he could finish. “You and I are over. You made that clear when you made me choke on my own blood. Now leave me the hell alone.”

His eyes narrowed. “Who was that?”

“What?”

“The man touching your face like you meant something to him.” He stepped closer, his gaze hardening. “Who was he?”

“That’s none of your business.” She turned to walk away, but his hand shot out, clamping around her arm.

“Stop!” she screamed. “Let me go.”

“Answer me. Who was he?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she yanked, trying to break free, but his grip only dug in harder. “Let me go now.”

His jaw flexed, his eyes dark with something ugly. “That’s the father, huh? So that’s the man you’ve been spreading your legs for? Is this the hotel where you screamed his name in bed?”

She tried to pull away, but his fingers were like iron around her arm. His voice dropped to a low, venomous threat. “I told you, if I ever saw you again, I’d make your life hell.”

Before she could react, he dragged her toward his car. Her feet scraped against the pavement, her protests useless against his strength. He shoved her inside like she weighed nothing.

“Grayson, stop!” she clawed at the door handle, but it was already locked. “Open the damn door.”

His mind was set, his eyes hard as stone. “You think I’m just gonna let you get away with everything? Not when you look like that.”

“Like what?” she snapped, her voice shaking despite her best efforts.

“Pregnant. Stupid. And lying through your damn teeth.”

He slammed his door shut and started the engine. Tessa’s stomach twisted. “Where are you taking me?”

“To teach you a lesson,” he bit out. “One you’ll never forget.”

“What kind of sick idea do you have now?” she blurted.

He didn’t answer, he just kept his eyes on the road, one hand loose on the wheel, the other tapping impatiently against his thigh.

The hospital came into view, and her pulse spiked. “Why are we here?”

He didn’t even look at her as he pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. “Get out. Let’s go pay daddy a visit.”

She hesitated for half a second before he yanked her out, his grip bruising her arm as he dragged her inside. Every step toward her father’s room felt like walking into a nightmare.

The moment they reached the bed, Grayson ripped the covers off her father.

“This is the man who raised you? Pathetic.”

Her father’s eyes fluttered open, confusion written all over his face. “Tessa, what’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on. Your daughter is a filthy bitch, and she’s gonna pay for it.”

Then Grayson’s fist came down, connecting with her father’s jaw.

“Grayson, stop!” Tessa screamed, shoving at him. He turned, slammed her into the wall. Pain shot through her shoulder.

“You think you can humiliate me?” he snarled, kicking over the tray table, sending food and metal clattering to the floor.

Her father groaned, clutching his face. Tessa lunged toward him, but Grayson shoved her back again before landing another punch. Blood streamed from her father’s nose.

“Please, stop! You’re upset with me—leave my dad out of this!” she begged.

“Shut up!” he barked. “Shut the fuck up, Tessa!”

She knelt beside her father, helping him sit up, but Grayson knocked him down again.

Grayson wasn’t going to stop and Tessa didn’t know what to do.

Her hands shook as she reached for her phone, Roman’s number flashing in her mind. She pressed call, her heart racing, as Grayson took another step toward her father.

Roman’s car rolled to a stop in front of the Blackwood mansion. He barely stepped through the doors before his mother’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

“So you remember you have a home? We rarely see you around anymore, Roman.”

Salima Blackwood—his mother—stood at the entrance like she had been waiting for this moment.

He dropped his keys on the marble counter, unbothered. “Last I checked, I’m running a billion-dollar hotel.”

She crossed her arms, her silk robe clinging to her like she had stepped straight out of a magazine cover. The years hadn’t dulled her beauty or her ability to make him feel ten years old again.

“You’ve been dodging my calls. Again,” she snapped.

“That’s because I’m busy, Mom. And I always know what you want to say.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Busy burying yourself in work or women?” she raised a brow.

He smirked. “Why not both?”

Her sharp inhale told him he had hit a nerve. She hated when he played the unbothered devil.

“Then, if that’s the case, one of those women should’ve given me what I want by now.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He walked over to the minibar and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

“Mother, you make it hard to give you an heir when we both know that child would be nothing more than a ticket to an empire I don’t want.”

She squinted at him. “One day, Roman, that mouth of yours will cost you something you can’t buy back.”

He leaned on the counter, meeting her eyes. “And one day, Mother, you’ll accept that I’m not the boy you raised. I’m the man keeping our family untouchable.”

They stared each other down. Same eyes. Same stubbornness.

And then—“You know, I heard that Grayson’s girlfriend got pregnant.”

“Oh, did she now?” he chuckled. “Then that’s good news for him. It means you can finally leave me alone.”

“The child isn’t his,” she blurted.

He coughed, something between a laugh and shock. “Oh wow. That must suck. Whose is it?”

“No one knows yet. Not even Grayson.” She shook her head.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Roman…” she walked over to the bar. “You need to take this seriously. Not just for yourself but for me. I need this for my claim on that family. You know how they treat us. How they treat me like I don’t belong.”

His jaw tightened. He knew exactly how she felt. His mother was the mistress of his father—Bernard Thorne—and the only woman who had ever managed to keep the man on a leash.

She stood across from him now, her arms folded, her eyes glassy.

“I want a grandchild before I get any older,” she said, breaking the silence with that unapologetic tone. “Can’t you see the wrinkles on my forehead?”

His mouth twitched into a smirk. “Don’t worry, Mom. You’re not getting old. You don’t look a day over sixteen.”

She arched a brow. “Be serious, Roman.”

“I am serious.” He leaned back, swirling the liquor in his glass. “And you don’t need to worry. You’ll get your grandchild soon.”

Her eyes sharpened. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “when do I get to meet the girl?”

His smirk deepened. “Soon. Very soon.”

Before she could press further, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, and the smirk faded into something colder. Tessa?

“Not even twenty-four hours,” he muttered. “And she’s already bothering me.”

Without a second thought, he declined the call and slid the phone face down.

“Now, Mom… let’s talk baby names.”

Tessa’s heart dropped. Did Roman hang up on her, or was it a mistake?

She called again, this time silently praying.

Grayson’s head snapped toward her.

“What are you doing?” he said, taking slow steps forward.

“Stay away from me!” she yelled. “And leave my dad alone.”

Grayson froze, his eyes narrowing as they caught the glow of her phone screen. In two strides, he was in front of her, ripping the phone from her grasp and hurling it across the room.

“If that’s your lover,” he growled, his voice low and deadly, “tell him he’s next.”

Her breath hitched. “You’re insane.”

A slow, dangerous smile tugged at his lips. His hands slowly wrapped around her neck.

He leaned closer, his breath hot on her cheeks.

“And you, Tessa… you’re finished.”