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 6
Grayson's hand tightened around Tessa's neck. Her fingers clawed at his wrists, nails digging into his skin, but he still didn't let go.
Her eyes burned, spilling tears she couldn't stop.
"You're going to pay, Tessa," he hissed, his voice low and venomous. "You and that bastard in your belly."
"Get your hands off her!" her father barked, swinging at him.
Grayson barely flinched. He shoved her father back onto the bed so hard the rails rattled.
"Somebody-" her father's voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Somebody help! Please! Help us!"
The shout tore through the hospital walls. A door down the hall slammed open. Footsteps pounded.
Grayson's hands dropped away like he'd been caught at a crime scene.
The door swung open and two nurses rushed in-one shoving between Grayson and Tessa, the other grabbing his arm.
"Sir, you need to leave-now!"
"I'm not done with her!" Grayson roared, struggling against their hold as more staff appeared.
His voice rose into something wild and unhinged. "You hear me, Tessa? You think you can hide from me? Never!"
Tessa's knees buckled, and she caught the side of the bed for balance, the ghost of his grip still burning her throat.
Security followed, taller and broader, pinning his arms back.
"You think this is over, Tessa?" he shouted. "I'm not done with you. Just wait and see. Wait and see."
He struggled against their hold, shouting over the chaos.
"I'm not done with you, you hear me!"
Tessa flinched. Heat crawled up her throat, her pulse thundering so loud she couldn't hear the rest of his threats.
They dragged him toward the hallway, his curses echoing off the white walls until they were swallowed by distance.
She ran to her father. "Dad, are you okay?" she asked, helping him get onto the bed.
His gaze snapped to hers, chest heaving.
"Tessa... what's going on? What was Grayson talking about?"
**********
Roman sat in his dimly lit office, nursing another glass of wine.
He wasn't the kind of man to second-guess himself, but Tessa's calls gnawed at him.
He had told her not to bother him unless it concerned the baby.
Yet she had called. Twice.
He'd let the first call ring out. Declined the second. Now, staring at the phone on his desk, he wondered if he'd been too quick to shut her out.
With a quiet curse, he grabbed it and hit redial.
But it went straight to voicemail.
He tried again-same thing.
A sharp unease settled in his gut.
What if something had happened?
Checking the call location, he saw it had come from a hospital. His brows drew together.
Why the hell was she in a hospital? What was going on?
He didn't bother with another drink. He was already on his feet, grabbing his keys.
Fifteen minutes later, he was walking through the glass doors of the hospital, scanning for anyone who could answer him.
A young nurse at the desk looked up and froze.
"Tessa Quinn," Roman said without wasting time. "She was here earlier."
The nurse hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, she came in with her boyfriend. Her father is admitted here."
His brow arched in shock.
So he was right-Tessa was just a gold digger looking for a way out with her pathetic boyfriend.
"Are you sure?" Roman pressed. "Her boyfriend?"
"Yes, they've been here together too many times." The nurse nodded. "There was... an altercation earlier, but it's been handled."
Altercation.
The word hit him like a slow punch.
His mind flashed back to the bruises on her lip, the way she'd lied without hesitation when he'd asked what happened.
"Where is she now, what's her address?" Roman demanded, adjusting the collar of his coat.
"I'm sorry, sir. Hospital policy."
He leaned forward, voice dropping. "Do you know who I am? I own half this building, and your boss is a personal friend. Now, before you make me call him, answer the damn question."
Her face turned pale.
"She gave us a temporary residence the last time she checked in, so I'm not sure-"
"Just give it to me!" Roman snapped, already running out of patience.
The nurse glanced around, opened the log book, scribbled an address onto a slip of paper, and slid it across the counter.
"Please don't tell anyone I-"
"Relax," he said, pocketing it.
He was already walking out before she finished her sentence.
The night air bit at his skin as he stepped out of the hospital, but his mind wasn't on the cold. It was on that nurse's words.
Boyfriend.
What the hell did she mean by "boyfriend"? And was Tessa playing him?
Sliding into the back seat of his car, he found Davin waiting, one arm draped over the wheel.
"Everything alright, boss?"
"No." Roman shut the door hard enough to make him flinch. "Something's going on."
Davin's eyes flicked to the rearview. "Tessa?"
"Yeah." Roman handed him the folded slip of paper. "A nurse just told me she came here with her boyfriend." His jaw tightened. "And that there was an altercation."
Davin frowned. "Boyfriend? Now that doesn't sound-"
"I don't give a damn what it sounds like," Roman cut him off. "I want to know who the hell he is, and why she's lying to me."
He leaned back, gaze fixed on the narrow streets ahead.
"Drive," he ordered, voice cold. "We're going to pay Miss Quinn a visit."
Davin didn't ask another question. The engine growled to life, and the car shot forward into the dark.
**********
The living room smelled faintly of chamomile tea and ginger, the kind of calm Gina always surrounded herself with. But nothing in Tessa felt calm.
She sat curled on the edge of Gina's couch, a blanket over her legs, pretending to sip the tea she'd been handed.
Her mind was still trapped in those last minutes at the hospital-Grayson's voice, his grip, the venom in his eyes as they dragged him away.
She could still hear him.
I'm not done with you... Or that bastard you call a child.
A shiver rippled through her.
She had lied to her father, saying it was all a misunderstanding, but it wouldn't be long until he found out the truth.
"You're quiet," Gina said softly from the armchair across from her. "What's the matter?"
Tessa's lips parted... but what could she say?
That her ex had just threatened her unborn baby in the middle of a hospital? That she was terrified he'd come back?
She forced a small smile instead. "It's nothing, Gina. Just tired."
Gina pressed her lips together, unconvinced, but before she could ask anything more, a firm knock rattled the front door.
Gina stood, brushing her hands on her jeans, and went to open it.
The moment she did, her voice lifted in caution. "Who are you?"
"I'm Roman Blackwood," the voice said.
Tessa's eyes shot up in surprise. She put the cup of tea down gently, drawing in a deep breath.
"I'm here to see Tessa Quinn," Roman continued, his tone deep and serious.
Gina hesitated, glancing back toward her. "Tessa-"
Her heart skipped.
She rose slowly, every step feeling heavier than the last.
When she reached the door, her eyes locked onto his. He wasn't here to joke.
"Roman, what are you doing here?" she asked.
He tilted his head like the question insulted him, then spoke.
"We need to talk... now."
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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."