
My CEO Brother Wants Me
He was supposed to be my brother. The cold CEO everyone feared. The man who controlled the entire country's business world.
But one night, he looked at me and calmly destroyed everything I thought I knew.
"We're getting married."
I laughed, but he didn't.
Now every door in my life is closing, every choice is disappearing, and the one man I'm not supposed to love refuses to let me go.
Because to Lucien Hale, this was never forbidden. It was inevitable.
And the most terrifying part? The closer I get to him, the harder it becomes to run.
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Chapter 2
AVA
I stepped off the private jet and stopped without meaning to.
A line of black cars waited on the tarmac, three of them. All shiny and expensive. Men in dark suits stood beside the doors, already waiting for me.
I let out a breath and smiled bitterly to myself. I didn't know why I expected anything different.
Six years away and part of me still hoped someone would come for me. Seraphina, Alaric. Maybe even Lucien. Just one familiar face to say welcome home.
I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and walked closer.
One of the men nodded politely.
"Welcome back, Miss Elara."
Not Miss Hale.
My smile faltered for a second, but I nodded anyway. "Thank you."
Another guard opened the door of the car in the middle. It was a Rolls-Royce. I paused for a moment, my eyes tracing the smooth lines. I had always liked cars.
Still, it didn't make me feel any better.
I slid into the back seat, and the door closed behind me. The car moved almost immediately.
As the road stretched out ahead, I pulled out my phone. If I didn't call my best friend, Stacy now, she would definitely complain later.
The call connected quickly.
"You've landed?" she said.
"I just did." I responded.
"Finally. I was starting to think something happened." She exhaled.
"So," she continued, "have you seen your grumpy brother yet?"
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"No," I said. "I wouldn't expect him to leave work just to come get me."
Stacy scoffed. "That man is unbelievable. What kind of brother doesn't even check on his sister? All he does is send random gifts like that makes up for everything."
I laughed softly, trying to act normal.
"He's always been like that," I said. "You know how busy he is."
"Girl, I know he's running the country's top company and all that," she said, "but that's not an excuse."
I could already imagine her rolling her eyes.
I looked out the window as the city blurred past. "It's fine, Stacy. I'll call you later," I said. "Say hi to Mark for me."
"I will," she replied. "And Ava... take care of yourself, okay?"
"I will."
I ended the call just as tall iron gates came into view.
The Hale estate.
The gates opened slowly, and the car drove in. The grounds looked wider than I remembered. The main house appeared ahead, exquisite and white. Somehow, it looked even bigger than it used to.
I should have felt happy.
Instead, that familiar feeling settled in my chest, reminding me that I was stepping back into a place where I had never quite belonged.
The car stopped at the front steps.
Seraphina Hale, my mother, stood waiting. She looked elegant as ever, dressed simply but in a way that made everything else look less important. Ria, the housekeeper, stood beside her, older now but ever smiling. A few maids stood respectfully behind them.
The door opened, and I stepped out.
Seraphina walked toward me immediately and pulled me into a hug.
"It's good to see you, darling."
"It's good to see you too," I said, hugging her back.
Ria smiled brightly. "Look at you," she said. "You've grown into such a fine woman."
Seraphina nodded. "You really have."
I smiled politely. I never knew what to say when people talked about my looks. I didn't think much about it.
We went inside.
The house smelled the same, clean and expensive. Many things had changed, but some of it looked exactly the way I remembered.
Across the room, Alaric, my father, sat reading the newspaper. He looked up when he noticed me.
"Ava, dear," he said with a small smile. "Welcome home. How was your journey?"
"It was fine," I replied.
"Congratulations again on your graduation," he added.
"Thank you," I said, smiling.
He nodded and returned to his paper.
My eyes moved around the room without me meaning to.
Seraphina noticed. "Are you looking for Lucien?"
I turned quickly. "No. I'm not."
She smiled gently like she didn't quite believe me.
"He'll be visiting this evening."
My heart skipped, then started beating faster. I nodded, pretending it didn't matter.
"Go wash up," she said. "We'll eat soon."
I nodded and went upstairs.
When I opened the door to my room, I stopped.
Nothing had changed.
The bed, the curtains, even the chair by the window. It felt like the room had been waiting for me, untouched, while my life happened somewhere else.
I walked over to the dresser. Photos sat neatly on top. My friends from high school and memories I barely remembered now.
Then I saw one picture and picked it up.
It was me and Lucien.
I was smiling so widely, almost laughing. Lucien stood beside me, taller even then, his expression bored and clearly annoyed.
I remembered that day.
Seraphina had forced us to take the picture together. It was my sixteenth birthday, and the next morning, I was on a plane, sent on my way to London.
That was the last photo of us together. Actually, the only one.
I set the picture down and shook my head. I didn't want to think about that now.
My luggage sat neatly by the bed. The maids had already brought everything in.
I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The water was warm, exactly what I needed. I stayed there longer than I meant to, letting the water quiet my thoughts.
When I came back out, I chose a comfortable gown from the wardrobe. It had a soft floral pattern and stopped a little above my knees.
I slipped it on and stood in front of the mirror.
I had grown. My body had filled out naturally, curvy where it hadn't been before. My skin was clear. My hair fell down my back in loose waves, long enough to reach my waist.
Stacy had told me more than once that I should try modelling for a skincare brand. I always said no. I strongly dislike attention.
I smoothed my hair and turned toward the door.
As I was about to turn the door knob, I heard a car park at the entrance.
Lucien was here.
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8.4
Carissa's son was dying in the ICU, and the bone marrow match had just failed.
The billionaire father, Guilford Gates, cornered her with a cruel ultimatum: naturally conceive a "savior sibling" to save their son. But what shocked Carissa more was his family's sudden accusation that she had heartlessly sold her baby to them three years ago.
"You sold your own flesh and blood to us for five million dollars, so your body belongs to the Gates family."
She was dragged into their gilded estate, treated like a filthy, rented womb. Guilford's new fiancée mocked her, the matriarch humiliated her, and Guilford looked at her with pure disgust. When she desperately tried to feed her sick son and accidentally made him vomit, Guilford violently shoved her away and banned her from the room.
Carissa was devastated and entirely confused. She had never seen a single cent of that five million. Driven by a desperate need for the truth, she investigated and uncovered a horrifying reality: her own father and stepmother had secretly trafficked her baby to the billionaire behind her back, leaving her to bear the ultimate blame.
Looking at the bank transfer record bought with her son's life, the last shred of Carissa's vulnerability died.
She signed the conception contract without asking for a single penny. She was going to use the Gates family's immense power to destroy the blood relatives who sold her, and she would survive this hell to take back her son.

8.4
Everly spent four years playing the perfect, accommodating wife to Carson Moss, swallowing every grievance just to secure medical treatments for their sick daughter.
But at a high-society banquet she exhausted herself organizing, Carson's pregnant mistress crashed the party.
The woman shoved an ultrasound of Carson's "real heir" directly into Everly's frail grandfather's face.
The shock triggered a massive heart attack.
Carson refused to use his private helicopter to save the dying old man, choosing to protect his mistress and his company's IPO instead. Her grandfather died on the hospital table.
Instead of remorse, her mother-in-law demanded Everly publicly cover up the murder.
"You will do exactly as I say, or I will freeze every single cent of the medical trust fund paying for your crippled daughter's treatments."
When a battered Everly returned to the estate, she discovered her three-year-old daughter covered in dark bruises and pinch marks. Her in-laws were deliberately torturing her disabled child.
Everly couldn't comprehend how a family could be so utterly heartless. Her only family was murdered, her child was abused, and her husband threw a five-million-dollar check at her face as hush money.
They thought she would just break and quietly disappear.
But when a terrifyingly powerful billionaire unexpectedly blocked Carson's security team from locking her up, Everly finally saw her window.
She grabbed her sleeping daughter and ran out into the freezing storm, making a blood-bound vow to make the entire Moss family bleed.

7.1
For seven years, I hid my identity as a wealthy heiress to be with my boyfriend, Ewing. I followed him across the country and made myself small so he could feel big.
On Thanksgiving, he ditched our celebration for his first love, Bree, who supposedly had a "burst pipe."
Later, she posted an intimate selfie with him, calling him her "hero."
Then she sent me a video of him at a bar, laughing with his friends.
"She's just being dramatic," he slurred, smirking at the camera. "A new necklace and she'll forget all about it. She's easy."
Easy. Seven years of my life, my love, my sacrifice-all reduced to that one word. I realized I was never his partner. I was just a placeholder.
I didn't cry. I packed my bags, booked a one-way flight to New York, and sent him one final text before blocking his number.
"Don't bother coming home. I'm getting married."

7.8
Andrea was trapped in a suffocating marriage with billionaire Gregory Morse, forced to live as the pathetic substitute for his dead fiancée.
When armed intruders broke into their estate in the dead of night, she called her husband in pure terror.
"Stop playing these cheap, attention-seeking games," Gregory sneered with disgust, and hung up the phone.
She barely escaped with her life, but the cruelty only escalated. At the family mansion, his dead fiancée's sister deliberately scalded Andrea's hand with boiling tea. Instead of defending his wife, Gregory publicly humiliated her, ordering her to clean up the mess while calling her a stray dog.
That night, hiding in the dark wine cellar, Andrea overheard a chilling confession.
Gregory admitted to his brother that he knew Andrea was completely innocent of the car crash that killed his fiancée. He knew she had been framed.
Why did he marry her? Just to use her as a psychological punching bag to vent his twisted grief. He watched her suffer every single day, treating her like disposable trash, while violently threatening anyone who showed her an ounce of kindness.
He thought she was just a useless, helpless shadow who would quietly endure his torment forever.
He had no idea that behind her submissive facade, she was secretly Madame Lan, the apex predator of the global fashion world. And now, she was ready to burn his empire to the ground.

8.9
For seven years, I hid my MIT Ph.D. and my identity as a top haute couture designer to be the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Cornelius Lambert.
But on our anniversary, while I waited at home with a cold dinner, I found him at a Michelin restaurant with his childhood sweetheart, Halle.
My seven-year-old son sat between them, laughing loudly.
"Mom is too boring. I wish Aunt Halle was my real mom."
Cornelius didn't defend me. He just smiled and affectionately ruffled the boy's hair.
When I finally packed my bags and left, I accidentally triggered an old AI robot prototype Cornelius had given me years ago.
A hidden recording played his voice from the very night he proposed.
"Why marry her? Because she's easy to control. Halle doesn't want to settle down yet, so Cassidy is just a perfect, temporary shield."
Later, when I caught them being intimate in a dark parking garage and snapped a photo, Cornelius watched with cold, dead eyes as his massive bodyguard shoved me against a concrete pillar.
My arm was torn open, blood dripping onto the floor, as they forced me to delete the evidence of his affair.
For seven years, I filed down every sharp edge of my brilliance for a man who saw me as nothing but a pathetic, disposable placeholder.
My heart turned to absolute ice. He thought I was just a weak, powerless housewife.
But he forgot who he was dealing with.
As his luxury car drove away, I pulled up the hidden command terminal on my phone and recovered the encrypted cloud backup of the photos.
I looked at my lawyer with a bleeding arm and a cold smile.
"Let's go. Now, we have a weapon."

7.9
For five years, April Gamble loved Julian Travis with everything she had, trusting him completely.
But on a stormy night, he casually tossed a liquidation agreement at her feet, single-handedly destroying her grandfather's company.
He coldly admitted he only dated her to steal Vance Group's internal financial data.
"You were convenient," Julian said, swirling his whiskey without a shred of guilt.
Before April could even process the brutal betrayal, a breaking news alert lit up her phone.
She watched in absolute horror as her grandfather jumped from the ledge of the Vance Tower on live television.
Julian looked at her writhing, screaming form with utter boredom and simply ordered his bodyguard to throw her out.
Blinded by grief and tears, April sped into the torrential rain, only to be completely crushed by a hydroplaning transport truck at an intersection.
As the shattered glass tore into her skin and the metal crushed her ribs, she died with a hatred so pure it made her teeth ache.
Why did five years of devotion mean absolutely nothing to him? Why did her family have to die just to feed his ruthless greed?
When she opened her eyes again, the harsh hospital lights blinded her, but the familiar burn scar on her arm was gone.
She wasn't the betrayed financial analyst April Gamble anymore.
She had woken up in the body of Altagracia Blanchard, the most notorious, obscenely wealthy heiress in New York.
Julian had taken everything from her, but now, armed with a billionaire's empire, she was going to bury him.