Follow
Chapters
Share
My Ex BF Became an Obsessive Stepbrother  Novel Cover

My Ex BF Became an Obsessive Stepbrother

He ruined my career. Now, he's my stepbrother. Three years ago, Vella decided to run from Victor's obsessive love—a love so possessive it suffocated her. To reclaim her freedom, Vella shattered his heart, a secret she has kept locked away. Now, at her mother's wedding, Vella faces a bitter truth: Victor Alexander is back. Not as the heartbroken ex-lover she left behind, but as a powerful CEO in the entertainment industry and—most terrifyingly—as her stepbrother. Victor is no longer the man she could hurt. He is a man who controls everything. With a cold smile and veiled threats, he makes one thing clear: he will not let Vella escape him a second time. He invades her life, her home, even her bedroom, with a deadly conviction that she belongs to him. And this time, he will use all his power and influence to ensure she can never run again. A story of obsession, revenge, and a love that has turned toxic. Can Vella survive Victor's dangerous game, or will she be trapped forever in a web of the past she helped create?
Chapters
Share

Chapter 3

Vella walked out of the ballroom with quick steps, letting the sounds of the still-echoing party fade behind her. Her hands were clenched at her sides, her mind in turmoil.

Victor.

That man hadn't just returned; he now had an unavoidable place in her life. Stepbrother? It felt like a cruel joke the universe had created to trap her back in the snare of her past.

She needed air.

Pushing open the balcony door, Vella took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. The cold night air touched her skin, offering a slight sense of peace.

But that peace only lasted a few seconds.

"Are you running away from me, Vella?"

That voice made her body tense.

Vella closed her eyes for a moment before turning around. Victor stood in the balcony doorway, looking at her with a relaxed expression, but his eyes gleamed with something hard to explain.

"I just needed some air," she replied, trying to sound neutral.

Victor stepped out, approaching with movements that were too smooth, too controlled. "Air?" He let out a dramatic sigh. "Or do you need to get away from me?"

Vella stared at him sharply. "Do you want me to stay away?"

Victor gave a small smile. "No. Quite the opposite."

Vella's heart beat even faster.

"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, her voice softer.

Victor shrugged, his expression remaining calm. "Doing what?"

"Coming back into my life. Appearing as my... stepbrother." The word almost caught in her throat.

Victor looked at her for a long time before answering, his voice low and smooth. "I didn't choose this, Vella. Just like you didn't."

"But you're enjoying it," Vella accused.

Victor laughed softly, but there was something dangerous behind it. "Of course. It's an interesting game, isn't it?"

Vella felt her blood boil. "You can't play with me, Victor."

The man stepped closer, forcing her to retreat until her back touched the balcony railing. She could feel his presence so close, his masculine scent and expensive cologne wafting in the air.

"I don't need to play with you," he whispered, staring at her as if piercing her soul. "I'm just taking back what should have never left me."

Vella held her breath, her body frozen.

"I don't belong to you," she said with as much firmness as she could muster.

Victor raised his hand, his fingers tracing a strand of her hair with a gentleness that felt threatening. "Oh, darling... that's what we'll see."

Vella swallowed, trying to suppress the fear creeping inside her.

One thing she realized tonight:

Victor was not going to let her go.

Flashback.

New York, one year ago.

Vella was just beginning her career as a commercial model. She lived in a small apartment in Manhattan, a place comfortable enough for a newcomer in the entertainment industry. Her life was busy, filled with auditions, photoshoots, and parties she had to attend to expand her network.

Amidst that busyness, there was one person always present in her life: Victor.

Back then, Victor wasn't the CEO everyone knew. He was just a man who claimed to work as a manager at an ordinary company. He was attentive, always by her side, and always made sure her needs were met.

Too attentive.

Vella remembered how she initially thought Victor's attention was sweet.

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he'd say every time he showed up at her apartment unannounced, bringing food and preparing everything for her.

"I don't need to be looked after like this, Victor. I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can. But I want to do it for you," he'd answer with a soft smile that always made it hard for her to get angry.

At first, Vella let Victor into her world. She felt loved in such an intense way, something she had never experienced before.

However, as time went on, that attention turned into something more... binding.

Victor started showing up at her photoshoot locations, waiting for her until she finished.

He would message her constantly, asking where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing.

He would call her in the middle of the night just to make sure she was home and not out with anyone.

"Victor, you don't always need to know where I am."

"Of course I need to know. It's not about trust, Vella. It's about making sure you're safe."

"I'm fine," she insisted.

Victor smiled slightly, but his eyes remained sharp. "I just want you to stay by my side. Is that so hard?"

That was when Vella started to feel trapped. Victor's love wasn't liberating—it was possessive.

The breaking point was the night Vella decided she couldn't go on like this.

That night, she had received an offer to attend a major industry party, a golden opportunity to build connections. Victor opposed it.

"You don't need to go to parties like that," he said coldly. "I can introduce you to more influential people."

"Victor, this is my career. I have to build it myself."

Victor stared at her in silence, his jaw tightening. "So you're choosing them over me?"

"That's not the point. I just need space."

Victor sighed, then gently stroked her cheek. "Alright," he finally said. "If that's what you want."

"Tomorrow, meet me at the city square," Victor said.

Then he left just like that, leaving Vella standing at the doorway of her apartment with mixed feelings.

She should have felt relieved. So why did her chest feel tight?

As the night grew later, her mind kept racing.

Victor loved her—she knew that. But Victor's love was too big, too suffocating, too binding, making her feel like she was losing control of her own life.

And now, she knew what she had to do.

Tomorrow, she would end it all.

The Next Day – City Square

A light snow fell on that winter morning, covering the sidewalks with a soft white. The New York city square was quiet, with only a few people passing by, enjoying the cold air while sipping hot coffee.

Vella stood in the middle of the square, her fingers hidden deep in the pockets of her long coat. She felt nervous, but she had to do it.

Then, she saw him.

Victor walked towards her with steady steps, wearing a long black coat that made him stand out even more in the crowd. His hand was gripping something inside his jacket pocket, and there was a soft gleam in his eyes as he looked at Vella.

For a moment, Vella felt hesitant.

But no. She couldn't hesitate.

"Thank you for coming," Victor said, his voice softer than usual.

Vella swallowed. "I want to talk about something."

Victor gave a small smile. "Me too."

Her heart pounded hard as the man took a breath, as if gathering courage.

But before Victor could continue, Vella spoke first.

"I want to break up."

Instantly, time seemed to stop.

Victor didn't react immediately. He just stared at Vella, as if her words made no sense.

"What?" his voice was low, almost a whisper.

Vella bit her lip, holding back the guilt beginning to creep into her chest. "I think... our relationship has gone too far. I need space, Victor. I want to live my own life again."

Victor remained silent.

Then, with a slow movement, the hand that had been hidden in his jacket pocket clenched something tightly.

A ring.

A small diamond ring in a black velvet box.

But before Vella could see it, Victor calmly slipped it back into his pocket, hiding his intention as if it had never existed.

Her heart sank.

Yet Victor didn't show his surprise any longer. He nodded slowly, then gave a small smile—a smile that, strangely, felt colder than usual.

"If that's what you want."

Vella thought he would get angry. Would beg. Would ask why.

But no.

Victor just stood there, accepting her decision without a fight.

And for some reason, that felt far more terrifying.

Flashback end.

---

You may also like

After My Groom Kissed the Bridesmaid, I Was Done with Him Novel Cover
8.5
The crystal chandelier cast fractured light across the mahogany dining table, its brilliance as cold as the silence that had settled over our family dinner. I set down my wine glass with deliberate precision, the soft clink against the china plate seeming to echo in the cavernous dining room of the Rose mansion. "I want a divorce." The words hung in the air like smoke from an extinguished candle. Trenton's fork froze halfway to his mouth, a piece of prime rib dangling from the silver tines. Across from me, Jordan's head snapped up from his phone, his dark eyes—so much like his father's—wide with shock. Cataleya, seated beside Trenton in what should have been my mother-in-law's chair, had the audacity to look surprised, though I caught the flicker of satisfaction that crossed her perfectly sculpted features before she composed herself. "Ella." Trenton's voice carried that familiar tone of condescension, the one he used when he thought I was being dramatic. "Don't be ridiculous. We can discuss whatever's bothering you after dinner." I smoothed my napkin across my lap, buying myself a moment to steady my breathing. Nine years of marriage had taught me to recognize that dismissive edge in his voice, the way he reduced my feelings to mere inconveniences.
Divorcing The CEO: I'll Take Your Empire Novel Cover
8.6
I spent three years being the perfect wife to tech mogul Cash Ferguson, a forensic accountant playing the role of a low-risk asset to stabilize his public image. My world shattered when I saw a live CNBC broadcast from Sundance showing Cash tenderly hoisting a two-year-old boy onto his hip—a secret son born to a socialite mistress while he was supposedly at a business roadshow. When I confronted him with divorce papers, Cash didn't apologize; he laughed, calling me a "liability" and weaponizing my mother’s history of mental illness to claim I was genetically unfit to carry his heir. He didn't just reject the split; he locked the penthouse elevator and froze every one of my accounts, reclassifying me from a wife to a piece of disputed company property. "You came from nothing, Isidora," he sneered, tossing a credit card at me like a leash. "Stop being dramatic. I can afford a pet, but don't think you can survive a day in the real world without my name." The betrayal turned lethal when I discovered Cash had tracked down my mother’s stolen emerald brooch—my only connection to my past—and bought it as a gift for his mistress. He was using my trauma and my heritage to decorate the woman who had replaced me in his secret life. I realized then that Cash had made a fatal accounting error: he forgot that I was the one who built his shadow accounts and knew exactly where the fraud was buried. He wanted to treat our marriage like a hostile takeover, so I decided to give him a market correction he would never forget. I escaped down forty flights of stairs with nothing but a burner laptop and a plan to burn his empire to the ground. If he wanted to play dirty, I’d show him what happens when a forensic accountant initiates a liquidation protocol. I’m not just leaving; I’m going to make him crawl.
Faking it with the billionaire  Novel Cover
9.2
Blurb   When broke event planner Isabella "Izzy" Hart agrees to fake an engagement with cold, commanding tech billionaire Alexander Blackwood, she thinks it'll be simple: smile for the cameras, fake a few kisses, collect the money, and walk away.   But nothing about Alex is simple. Not the way he looks at her. Not the way he touches her, as she belongs to him. And definitely not the way he says: "If this is just business... why does it feel like you're mine?"   It was supposed to be fake. Now neither of them knows what's real.
He Return of the Discarded Heiress Novel Cover
9.0
For three years, I wasn't a foster child. I was a living, breathing cure. Hidden away in the attic of the Thomas mansion, my sole purpose was to keep their precious daughter alive. Every week, they drained my blood to treat her rare disease, leaving me anemic, scarred, and invisible. I was the "walking blood bag" from the wrong side of the tracks-a stray they'd reluctantly taken in. The day Katharina was finally cured, I overheard the truth. "That walking blood bag has served her purpose," the grandmother hissed. "We are done with her." They threw me out into a freezing rainstorm, tossing a crumpled check at my feet like a tip for a beggar. Payment, they said, for the years I'd "leeched" off their family. Payment for the six thousand milliliters of blood they'd stolen, for the chronic anemia, for the scars. I shredded their charity in front of their faces and walked into the storm. They laughed, screaming that I'd be back, that I'd be begging on the streets by morning. But as I stood alone on that dark road, my world shifted. A sleek, black Rolls-Royce pulled up in silence. The door opened, and my real family stepped out. I wasn't a stray from the slums. I was their lost heiress. And the Thomases are about to learn that the girl they bled dry is now the one holding all the power.
Love Outside my Reach Novel Cover
9.1
Jordan was taken aback, his lips parted as he gasped in surprise. Chloe sighed, "Is there any other special cleaning you want in the room aside from the regular one?" she asked coolly. Jordan stared at her in disbelief. Her indifference stung him. Did she just ignore what he was saying? He waited three hours for her the day before. Of course he could never tell her that. He had been mad at himself for having such feelings. Right now, he couldn't be any madder. But the girl just stood there, looking so nonchalant, carefree, unconcerned. His business card was a treasure to anyone else, but she had trashed it. He clenched his jaw. For once, he was at a loss for words. Chloe spoke up, "I will get to work then." She turned to leave. "Hey!" Jordan bellowed. She stopped, frowning. Why was he so angry? "You will get to work, doing what? Telling everyone it wasn't you who made that mess?" he scoffed, "Isn't that what you were about to say to my mother?" Chloe put on a false perplexed look, "But that's the truth. We both know I am not the one at fault. What exactly are you scared of, Mister Cavanaugh? Why should it be a big deal?" "So you are going out there to tell on me?" he gave a low laugh. "No. Not really," Chloe said offhandedly, "I think I have my job back for now, thank you. I will face that and hope you don't play such games with me again." Jordan came closer to her, frowning, "Are you threatening me?". Chloe wanted to place her hands on his broad chest and push him away, he smelled so good, "Threatening you? Hell no, that's not a threat. I was just soliciting for peace. I didn't do anything wrong to you or your family. YOU wronged me, you ought to apologize. But I am not even asking you to". Jordan moved closer, step by step, until her back hit the door. His face hovered inches from hers, his breath warm, his eyes dark and unreadable. Chloe’s heart skipped a beat, as she began to panic. Chloe Carson thought moving to Colorado would bring stability and a chance to rebuild her life. But her new job at the Cavanaugh mansion proves anything but simple, especially with Jordan, the handsome yet infuriating heir whose every word and glance keeps her on edge. As Chloe tries to find her footing, she also faces Niles, her cousin’s crush, whose attraction to her awakens feelings she did not expect. Torn between Niles’s gentle affection and Jordan’s intoxicating pull, Chloe must navigate jealousy, secrets, and emotional traps she never saw coming. As unexpected consequences spiral around her, Chloe will have to decide whose heart she can trust... before it is too late.
Mistaking The Ruthless CEO For An Escort Novel Cover
8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room. She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks. Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort. Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800. But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic. He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee. When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk. Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror. She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake. Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast. Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel. She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile. "Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."