Claimed by My Ex's Stepbrother
"IS IT TRUE?" Grayson's voice thundered through the room.
"Yes!" Tessa said softly. "Yes it is!"
"So you've been cheating on me, haven't you?" He spat.
Her hands trembled. "No, I swear, it's not like that."
He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising her wrist as she squealed in pain.
"Then whose baby are you carrying, huh?" His voice was ice cold.
Tessa shivered, tears blurring her vision.
"I don't know."
**********
Pregnant with the powerful Roman Blackwood's child, while engaged to his unstable stepbrother - Tessa Quinn becomes the key to a ruthless inheritance war where love has no place.
As secrets unravel and danger closes in, Tessa must protect her unborn child while trapped between love, vengeance, and men who want to own her fate.
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Chapter 2
The knock on Tessa's door came sharply in the dead of night, shaking her to her bones. Her heart thudded painfully as she raced down the stairs of her small apartment.
"Tessa," Grayson's voice called out, low and rough. "Please, open up."
Grayson-what the hell was he doing here?
"Tessa, I know you're in there. Please open the door, let's talk."
She pressed her back against the wall, her breath caught in her throat. After everything-his insults, the way he pushed her away, the cold cruelty-she wasn't about to just let him back in.
"What do you want, Grayson?" she yelled, her voice shaking. "Go away."
"Please," he begged, desperation bleeding through the door. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have said any of that."
She swallowed hard, torn between anger and something stubborn inside her that still wanted him.
"Please open the door, Tessa, let's talk." He begged again.
She took in a deep breath, her heart racing in her chest. She walked slowly to the door, yanking it open with all her strength.
"WHAT?" she snapped. "What do you want?"
"Baby," he started. "I didn't mean any of what I said. Please believe me."
"It's too late for all that now, Grayson. You hit me and you insulted me and you let Sofia-"
"Sofia doesn't mean anything," he shrugged. "She was just something that I used to pass the time. I don't love her. I only love you."
She shook her head, backing away from him. "You said she'd be the one to give you your baby."
He chuckled like his words didn't make sense even to him. "That was just something I said because I was drunk. I had a lot to drink before you came in."
"Grayson-"
"You're the one having my baby." He swallowed. "It's you I want. I want the mother of my heir to be you."
Her eyes narrowed in disappointment. So he was only here because he found out she was pregnant? Not because he cared?
He stepped closer, his voice softening just enough to move her. "Tessa, you think I don't want this? You think I'm just saying all this because I'm desperate?"
She shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"No," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. "I want us. I want you. Not because of the baby, but because you are everything I ever wanted. I know I was a terrible bastard, but I'm not asking for forgiveness-I'm asking for a second chance."
She wanted to throw him out. God, she did. But his words were like poison wrapped in honey.
"You're scared," he whispered, his voice dropping lower. "Scared that I'll hurt you again. But I'm different now. You're carrying my child. That means something. We can be a family, Tessa. You and me, and the baby. We can be happy."
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Part of her wanted to scream, run away, and never look back. But another part, a smaller, desperate part wanted to reach out, to believe in his promises.
Before she could think it through, his hand brushed her cheek, warm and firm. His eyes searched hers for permission.
She didn't pull away.
Then his lips were on hers with a desperate urgency that stole her breath away. She wanted to push him off, for all the pain he'd caused.
But instead, she found herself melting into the kiss, the anger and heartbreak tangled up with something else-something dangerous.
Tessa paused quickly, her hand still on Grayson's chest, a sudden flicker of worry cutting through the heat.
"The baby... it's still so early. After all the hormones, the injections, the constant monitoring-I don't want to risk anything."
Grayson pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his expression softening for the first time that night. "I know. I called the clinic after I saw the report. The nurse checked your latest levels-they're strong, the ultrasound looked perfect. She said the pregnancy is stable now, and you're cleared for normal activities... including this. As long as it feels good and there's no pain, we're okay."
Relief flooded through her, warm and unexpected, chasing away the last of her hesitation.
She smiled faintly, fingers tightening in his shirt. "Then don't hold back."
His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, as if trying to erase all he'd done and said. Her body betrayed her, responding to the warmth, the familiarity, the promise he made with that kiss.
He yanked her shirt over her head without a second thought, his fingers rough and claiming. His mouth left hers to trail scorching kisses down her bare chest, his tongue flicking over every sensitive spot, making her shiver uncontrollably.
"Fuck, Tessa," he growled, his breath ragged as he pressed his body hard against hers. Without warning, he scooped her up, carrying her like she weighed nothing as he stormed toward the stairs.
Every step echoed his hunger. He didn't waste a second, slamming the bedroom door shut behind them, and pinning her against the bed with wild, hot kisses that left her dizzy.
His hands tore at her jeans, ripping them open and sliding inside, skin burning against skin. She gasped as his fingers explored, teasing, dragging her closer to the edge.
Then, with no warning, he slipped inside her, hard and demanding, moving with a brutal urgency that took her breath away. Her nails dug into his back as waves of pleasure and pain came together.
He kissed her fiercely, biting her neck as he drove deeper inside her, his voice rough and ragged in her ear. "You're mine, Tessa. Always will be."
She lost herself in the storm of pleasure, the fierce, intense rhythm of his body moving with hers, the desperate heat pooling between her legs until she shattered, screaming his name into the night.
When it was over, he held her close, sweat slick and heart pounding, whispering promises she wasn't sure were true but she didn't want to let go of.
She woke up to Grayson's arms wrapped around her stomach like he was protecting what was his.
She really let him in last night? Maybe it was for the best; she couldn't raise this child on her own, not with her father's hospital bills piling every second. At least Grayson was the son of a rich family. He could help them both.
The sharp buzz of her phone cut through the silence of her small apartment. She glanced at the screen. It was the hospital. She hesitated for just a second, then she answered.
"Ms. Quinn?" The nurse's voice was soft but serious on the other end.
"Yes?" she said, her heart already pounding.
"I'm sorry to inform you, but there was a mistake during your insemination procedure."
Her breath caught. She sat upright, pushing Grayson's hand away from her. He shrugged but didn't wake up.
"What kind of mistake?" she whispered, slowly stepping out of the room.
"Ma'am. The sperm used for your IVF was not from Grayson Thorne."
She stiffened, her eyes widening in horror.
"What did you just say?"
"There was a mix-up. The sperm belonged to someone else. We're really sorry for this misunderstanding."
Her mind spun. She didn't know what to say. This wasn't just a 'misunderstanding'; this was her life. Grayson's life.
"This isn't Grayson's child?" she whispered, disbelief washing over her.
"Yes, Ms. Quinn," the nurse confirmed gently. "It's not his."
She backed against the wall... trembling, the weight of the news crushing her.
"If this baby is not for Grayson... then whose baby am I carrying?"
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8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
7.4
Four years ago, to protect the man I loved from losing his billionaire empire, I drugged his drink, told him I only used him for his money, and vanished.
Now, at a high-society gala, Callum Wyatt is back. He isn't just a CEO anymore; he's a ruthless predator, and the second his eyes lock onto me, I know I am his prey.
When my wealthy half-sister publicly humiliated me, calling me the cheap bastard child of a homewrecker, Callum stepped out of the shadows. He nearly snapped her wrist in half and declared to New York's elite that anyone who touched me would be dismantled.
In the back of his Maybach, he pinned my arms above my head, his eyes burning with psychotic obsession.
"If you run again, Aubrey, I will burn your entire world to the ground just to keep you."
My heart bled. I had spent four grueling years tearing myself apart to keep him out of my messy, blood-soaked revenge against the family that watched my mother die.
But his terrifying protection only made my biological father's family target me harder, using their massive capital to buy out my movie set and crush my acting career.
They thought I would cower.
But as I walked onto the soundstage, facing the heiress trying to steal my role, I took off my sunglasses. I wasn't running anymore; it was time to make them pay.
7.3
Seven years ago, my fiancé, Don Dante Moretti, sent me to prison to take the fall for my adopted sister, Chiara. He called it a gift-a way to protect me from a worse fate.
Today, he picked me up from prison only to abandon me at my family's estate. His reason? Chiara was having another one of her "episodes."
My parents then informed me I'd be staying in the third-floor storage room, so as not to disturb the fragile girl who stole my life.
They celebrated her "recovery" with a lavish dinner party, while I was treated like a ghost. When I refused to join, my mother hissed that I was ungrateful, and my father called me jealous.
They assumed I couldn't understand their venomous whispers. But prison was my university. I learned Spanish. I understood every word.
It was then I realized I wasn't just a sacrifice; I was disposable. The love I once felt for all of them had turned to ash.
That night, in the dusty storage room, I logged onto an encrypted channel I'd set up years ago. A single message was waiting: "The offer stands. Do you accept?" My hands, scarred and steady, typed back, "I accept."
9.5
As the fetal monitor screamed in the delivery room, Danae begged the nurses to call her billionaire husband to save their dying baby.
Instead of Adrian, his chief lawyer arrived with a chilling directive: all emergency interventions were explicitly denied.
While security guards pinned her arms to the mattress, Danae was forced to listen to her baby's heartbeat flatline. The lawyer simply dropped divorce papers on her bed and walked out. A sympathetic doctor helped Danae fake her own death to escape the family. Stripped of her assets and kicked out into the freezing rain, she tried to drown herself with her child's ashes, only to be saved by a mysterious benefactor.
Three years later, Danae returned as a top medical researcher. But at a high-profile symposium, she crossed paths with Adrian and his new fiancée—a cheap lookalike of Danae. The woman maliciously staged a bloody miscarriage using a restricted chemical, perfectly framing Danae's lab for the crime.
Adrian pinned Danae against the wall, his eyes black with rage, vowing to make her beg for death. Three years ago, he let their real child die without even answering the phone. Now, he was ready to destroy her over a fake pregnancy.
Just as Adrian's private guards dragged her away to be locked up, the hospital doors were violently kicked open. A rival billionaire stepped in with a team of ruthless lawyers, shielding Danae behind his back and declaring war.
9.6
I was only three and a half years old, living in a damp basement and beaten daily by Enoch Pruitt with a heavy leather whip.
"Get up, you useless waste of space!"
He always told me I was a stray he had picked out of the garbage.
But during one brutal beating that nearly stopped my heart, time froze, and a glowing figure called The Chronicler appeared.
"You are not an abandoned orphan, Clare. You carry the blood of the highest gods."
He revealed that I was the stolen daughter of the ultra-wealthy Barrett family.
Then, he showed me the horrific ending of my previous life.
I had died right here on this bloody dirt floor.
My real parents and three brothers went completely insane with grief, turning into ruthless monsters who destroyed themselves and the entire world to avenge me.
Meanwhile, the Pruitt family kept torturing me, locking me in a woodshed and feeding me moldy bread.
The memory of my bones breaking and my real mother's agonizing screams crushed my chest.
Why did I have to suffer like an animal while my true family tore the world apart looking for me?
This time, I refused to die in the mud.
I accepted my divine blood, my eyes glowing gold as I summoned a bolt of purple lightning to strike my abuser.
I just needed to survive the night.
Because my real father's heavily armed convoy was already tearing up the mountain, ready to burn this hell to the ground.
8.7
Jolie transmigrated into a high-tech universe ruled by beast-shifting Primals, only to wake up in the body of a "defective" female. With a Genetic Compatibility Index of zero, she was publicly discarded by her mandated military partner.
Before she could even adapt, her stepmother drugged her with an illegal aphrodisiac and locked her in a pitch-black suite with that same ex-fiancé—now a feral, maddened beast. The family wanted her torn apart to permanently erase their embarrassment.
But instead of dying, Jolie awakened a rare plant-manipulation power. She bound the raging General, drained his energy, robbed him blind, and fled to a remote farming planet. Just as she thought she was free, the Commonwealth system flashed a new mandate. They assigned her a new husband: Keanu Robertson, a psychotic assassin who had murdered his last three wives.
The system wasn't giving her a partner; it was handing her a death warrant. Keanu despised females, especially a "useless" zero-GCI burden. He tracked her forged alias across the galaxy, descending upon her barren farm in the dead of night with pure murderous intent. How could a discarded, defective girl survive the most feared apex predator in the Shadow Sector?
But as the legendary assassin stepped onto her property to finish the job, a mutated, neurotoxic vine whipped out and completely paralyzed him. Watching the massive killer crash face-first into the dirt, Jolie lowered her rifle and smiled.
"Welcome home, husband."