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

Chapter 4

Vella tried to ignore the chilling sensation creeping through her body as Victor stood so close, his smile faint but his eyes full of hidden meaning.

"You look tense," he said softly, his fingers almost touching Vella's cheek before the girl took a step back.

"I'm just surprised," Vella said, her voice striving to sound flat.

Victor raised an eyebrow, as if mocking her. "Surprised that I'm back? Or because you've finally realized you can't escape me?"

Vella's heart beat faster. She couldn't get caught in this game.

"I've forgotten you, Victor."

Victor laughed softly, his expression seeming self-amused. "You really want me to believe that?"

Vella didn't answer. She chose to leave, stepping past Victor. However, before she could get far, Victor caught her wrist. Not too tight, but enough to stop her.

"You'd better get ready, Vella," he whispered close to her ear. "I'll make sure you can never ignore me again."

Vella held her breath, trying to free herself from Victor's grasp. "Let me go."

Victor gave a small smile before finally releasing her.

But before Vella could truly walk away, he managed to whisper, "Welcome back to my life, darling."

---

Vella couldn't stand staying at that party any longer. After exchanging pleasantries with a few guests she didn't even really know, she finally asked her mother for permission to leave early.

"I'll be staying at the hotel tonight," her mother said with a happy smile. "Enjoy the house by yourself tonight, dear."

Vella just nodded. Honestly, she was relieved. She needed space to breathe.

A light rain was falling as Vella stepped into the house. The atmosphere was quiet. Silent.

She turned on the living room light, dropped her bag on the sofa, and walked straight to her bedroom. After changing out of the stuffy party dress, she went into the bathroom, trying to wash away all the burdens on her mind under the stream of warm water.

But the image of Victor kept appearing in her head. His gaze, his words from earlier that night...

"I'll make sure you can never ignore me again."

Vella let out a heavy sigh, quickly dried her hair, and went into the bedroom. She was just about to get into bed when her phone suddenly vibrated on the nightstand.

Unknown number.

She frowned. It was past midnight. Who would call at this hour?

Hesitantly, she slid the green button. "Hello?"

A few seconds of silence. Only soft breathing on the other end.

Vella was about to hang up when the voice sounded.

"You left too early, darling."

Vella froze.

It was Victor's voice. Soft. Calm. But there was something that made her hair stand on end.

"Victor?" her voice rose, a reflex. "How did you get my number?"

Victor laughed softly. The sound sent shivers down Vella's spine.

"I always know what you have, Vella." Then the call disconnected.

Vella stared at her dark phone screen, her chest pounding.

How did he know? Had Victor been following her? Or… had he infiltrated her life deeper than she imagined?

Her mind was filled with fear that was starting to turn into panic.

She gripped her phone tightly, staring into the darkness of the night outside her window.

Biting her lip, she tried to think clearly. This must just be a psychological game. Victor just wanted to scare her. But why did it feel so real?

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

DING-DONG.

Vella jolted.

The doorbell rang.

The sound echoed through the spacious, quiet house, reverberating in the empty halls.

Who would come at this hour?

She glanced at the time on her phone—12:24 AM.

Her hand clenched the phone tightly as the bell rang again. This time, longer.

DING-DONG. DING-DONG.

Vella held her breath.

She strained her ears, trying to hear any sound outside. No footsteps, no sound of a car stopping in front of her house.

DING-DONG.

Her heart beat faster.

She walked slowly towards the front door, passing through the dark hallway. The shadow from the outside light cast a faint silhouette on the marble floor.

Arriving at the door, she stood still. Didn't dare move.

She stared at the peephole. Hesitant.

But before she could see who was outside, her phone vibrated again.

A message from an unknown number:

"Why aren't you opening the door, Vella?"

Her breath caught.

Vella's hands trembled as she slowly backed away. She didn't dare look through the peephole again.

The doorbell didn't ring anymore.

However, in the silence of the night, she could feel something.

Someone was out there. Waiting for her.

And she knew exactly who it was.

Victor.

Vella bit her lip, her heart pounding as she stared at the door in front of her.

She knew this was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

But curiosity and fear mixed into one, making her slowly reach out her hand and turn the doorknob.

As the door opened, Victor stood there.

He was dressed entirely in black, his hair slightly disheveled, and his expression was completely different from the man she met at the party earlier. Cold. Dark. Dangerous.

The drizzle had dampened his shoulders, and his gaze immediately pierced through Vella's eyes, sharp and demanding.

Vella felt her tongue go numb.

"Victor… what are you doing here?"

Victor didn't answer immediately. Suddenly, the man stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.

"Victor! What are you—"

Click.

He closed the door behind him and quickly locked it.

Vella took a step back, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Victor, get out."

Victor didn't move. He just looked around the house, as if assessing every corner, before his gaze finally returned to Vella.

"A big house," Victor murmured softly. "Too big to live in alone."

Continue to next part

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.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.6

Divorcing The CEO: I'll Take Your Empire

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.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.2

Faking it with the billionaire

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.

Billionaire Modern

9.0

He Return of the Discarded Heiress

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.

Billionaire Modern

9.1

Love Outside my Reach

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.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.9

Mistaking The Ruthless CEO For An Escort

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."

Action Billionaire Modern

My Ex BF Became an Obsessive Stepbrother

Chapter 4

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