
365 Nights, Two Stepbrothers, One Me.
I moaned out his name. "Damien, you are not trying hard to get me, yet .."
He smirked and whispered to my ears. "I like being hard, Not "trying" hard."
When Lila Sinclair's mother is sentenced to life in prison, her world collapses overnight. With nowhere else to go, she is taken in by Sebastian Blackwood, her mother's former lover. A powerful, reserved man who agrees to shelter her under strict conditions.
Lila is placed in his household... and into a life she never asked for, sharing a roof with two stepbrothers who change everything.
Damien is danger wrapped in charm...intense, controlling, and impossible to ignore. Ethan, on the other hand, is steady, kind, and grounding...the only place she feels safe when everything else feels like it's slipping away.
But Lila's situation comes with a hidden clause: her stay in the country is temporary. Within 365 days, her legal protection expires. To remain, she must marry one of the Blackwood heirs.
One house. Two brothers. Twelve months of blurred lines, buried secrets, and emotions she was never meant to feel.
As desire clashes with safety and passion wars with peace, Lila is forced into a choice that could secure her future...or destroy it completely.
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Chapter 3
Ethan Blackwood's POV
"Can you let me spend at least one damn day at home before blowing up my phone?" I groaned, holding the phone to my ear as I sprawled across my bed, one hand tugging lazily at my damp hair.
On the other end, Jared's laugh was smug. "Bro, stop pretending like you don't miss me. You're literally sitting in that mansion bored out of your mind."
"Correction," I smirked, "I was sitting bored out of my mind. Now I've got a new housemate. Way more entertaining than your ugly face popping up on FaceTime."
"Ahhh, the infamous adopted sister your dad was talking about." Jared dragged the words. "So what's she like? Cute? Boring? Trouble?"
I chuckled low. "Definitely not boring. Trouble? Maybe. Cute?" My lips tilted as the image of Lila in that silk robe from earlier flickered through my mind. The way she bit her lip nervously, the way her laugh had slipped out like it didn't belong to a stranger... "Yeah, she's cute."
"Don't 'yeah' me, Ethan. Cute how? Like..you'd ruin your life'cute, or just pat on the head' cute?"
"Shut up." I threw a pillow across the room even though he couldn't see it. "She's off-limits."
"Mmhm. That didn't sound convincing." Jared whistled. "Anyway, stop dodging me. Tonight. You're coming."
"Not happening." I leaned back, arms behind my head. "I'm not in the mood for your wild parties, man."
"It's not my party," Jared corrected. "It's Stephanie's birthday."
I stilled. "Stephanie?"
"Yeah." He chuckled knowingly. "Your ex. Ring a bell?"
I rolled my eyes. "That's exactly why I'm not going. Why the hell would I put myself in the same room as her and her perfect little circle of designer demons?"
"Because, my guy," Jared's tone dropped, "you need to show her you've moved on. She's already parading that new boyfriend of hers like some trophy. You think she won't rub it in your face if you skip tonight?"
I clenched my jaw, thinking of Stephanie's smug smirk. Jared wasn't wrong. The last thing I wanted was for her to think she'd broken me.
"Fine," I exhaled, dragging my hand over my face. "I'll go. But I swear if I regret this..."
"You won't," Jared cut in, victorious. "Just bring that charm of yours and..hell, bring your new sister. That'll shut Stephanie right up."
I rose up. "Hmm,, that's a blast idea you got there."
"I'm the highest in the room." he shrugged.
"Shut up," I said again, but this time I was grinning. "I'll figure something out."
By the time I hung up, my mind was already spinning with possibilities.
***
I found myself standing outside Lila's room, knocking twice before pushing the door slightly open.
She peeked out, wide eyed, her hair falling in loose waves around her face. "Ethan?"
"Don't look so surprised," I teased, stepping inside like I owned the place. My eyes swept over her room. "Wow. Dad really went all out, huh? Looks like a damn hotel suite."
Lila rolled her eyes but smiled. "Yeah, it's... something."
I flopped onto the armchair like I belonged there. "So. Big plans tonight?"
She shook her head. "Just figuring out how not to get lost in this giant house."
"Perfect." I leaned forward, grinning. "Then you're coming with me."
Her brows knitted. "Coming where?"
"To a party." I spread my arms like it was obvious. "My ex's birthday party, actually."
Her jaw dropped. "Wait...your ex? And you want me to come?"
I smirked. "Exactly. I need her to see me with someone else. Someone gorgeous. Someone who'll make her choke on her champagne when she realizes she lost me."
Lila laughed, that soft, melodic laugh that made something tug in my chest. "And you think I'm the person for that job?"
"You're perfect for it." I winked. "Besides, it's not about you. It's about me winning."
She folded her arms, biting her lip like she was thinking. "Okay... but, uh, I have no idea what to wear. Or how to even act at some fancy party like that."
"Lucky for you," I stood up dramatically, "I'm a goddamn fashionista."
"Oh, really?" she teased. "I thought you were just a rich boy with good cheekbones."
"Both can be true," I grinned. "Now, stand up. We're raiding your closet."
I opened the wardrobe and whistled. "Damn. Dad really does spoil you already." My hands skimmed over silks, velvets, lace. "But we need something that screams eat your heart out, Stephanie."
Lila hovered by the bed nervously. "I don't even know what that means."
"It means," I said, pulling out a sleek black dress that looked like it was made for sin, "this one."
Her eyes widened. "That's... kind of short."
"Exactly." I tossed it at her. "Trust me."
She disappeared into the bathroom, and I leaned against the doorframe, smirking to myself.
When she stepped out, I swear my breath stalled. The dress hugged every curve, the fabric slipping against her skin like it had been sewn on her body.
I blinked, then forced a grin. "Okay, wow. Remind me never to underestimate you again."
Her cheeks flushed. "Stop staring."
"Not possible." I circled her, tugging lightly at the strap to adjust it. "Needs a little fixing." My fingers brushed her bare shoulder, lingering longer than necessary. Her skin was warm, soft.
I moved to her hair next. "Let it down."
She shook it free, and I ran my fingers through it, tousling it slightly. "There. Now you look like you didn't even try, which is the whole point. Sexy, effortless, lethal."
Lila laughed nervously, twisting to look at the mirror. "I look... different."
"You look perfect," I said before I could stop myself.
Our eyes met in the mirror, and for a second, the air shifted. My chest tightened, my pulse kicking up.
She smiled shyly, breaking the moment. "You're ridiculous."
"Ridiculously good at this," I corrected quickly, pulling back with a grin. "Now, twirl for me."
She did, laughing as the hem flared around her thighs. I let my gaze trail over her once more, unapologetic.
"Damn, Stephanie's not ready," I murmured, shaking my head.
When she stopped, I pulled her into a playful hug. She fit against me softer than I expected, her laugh muffled against my chest. My hand lingered at her waist a beat too long before I let go.
"See?" I said lightly, covering the tension building in my gut. "We make a great team."
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Two weeks until she turns eighteen.
Two weeks until everything changes.
And a few months left trapped in high school with the boy she hates most.
Calvin Simms has been her enemy for as long as she can remember. Popular, untouchable, and the living reminder of a childhood misunderstanding neither of them ever corrected. Their interactions are sharp, heated, and carefully controlled.
Until they aren't.
As months pass, tension replaces silence.
Jealousy replaces indifference.
And lines blur where hatred once lived.
With rivals watching, secrets resurfacing, and temptation growing harder to ignore, Samira must decide if sticking to her rules is worth denying what her body and her heart are already choosing.
Because some mistakes feel too good to stop.
And sometimes...
you don't fall for the person you want.
You fall for the one you swore to hate.

Minutes before announcing her grand engagement, Darla caught her fiancé sleeping with her stepsister.
She publicly exposed them and canceled the wedding on the spot.
Furious, her adoptive mother demanded Darla marry a fifty-five-year-old predator to save their broken business deal.
"If you don't do exactly what I say, I'll let your father rot in prison for the rest of his life."
Desperate to escape her family's control, Darla grabbed a massive, intimidating hotel security guard she bumped into in the hallway.
She shoved all the cash in her purse at him—eight hundred dollars—and begged him to fake-marry her.
They signed the papers at City Hall that same day.
But the nightmare didn't end.
That evening, Darla received a cold phone call from the state penitentiary.
Her father had been found dead in his cell, and her company, owned by her ex-fiancé's family, fired her immediately.
They had taken everything from her, leaving her completely broken and sobbing on the floor of her tiny apartment.
She thought she had nothing left but a broke, fake husband to keep her company.
She had no idea that the "poor security guard" holding her in his arms was actually Anson Prince, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And he was already making the calls to tear her abusers' empires to the ground.

For three years, Alana acted as the sole tactical brain for the Dawnbreaker squad, keeping them alive despite being labeled a useless "Dud" Conduit.
But right before the crucial Ascension Trials, squad leader Cash handed her a corporate sponsorship contract. The condition? She had to become the "private companion" to a greasy corporate heir just so the squad could get high-tier gear.
When she refused, the teammates she had bled for unanimously voted to kick her out.
"You're just window dressing, a liability."
They revoked her safehouse access, burned her belongings, and the academy advisor even tried to force her into a state-sanctioned breeding program. They left her to freeze in the slums, betting she would desperately crawl into the rich man's bed.
What they didn't know was that her inability to summon an Eidolon wasn't a lack of talent. Her teammate Dallin had been secretly sabotaging her rituals for years, crippling her potential just to keep her chained as their free tactician.
Stripped of everything and pushed to the absolute brink, Alana's despair morphed into a deadly resolve.
Using a million-credit black market loan and a forbidden blood matrix, she forcibly anchored an Apex-Tier cosmic wolf disguised as a harmless silver pup.
When her ex-squad tried to publicly humiliate her and burn her new "pet" alive in the cafeteria, a flash of silver light severed Dallin's hand instantly.
Looking at her screaming former teammates, Alana finally smiled.

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."

I was the Stanton family heiress, engaged to the President's son to secure a vital military alliance.
But he cornered me in the White House sitting room, slamming a thick manila folder onto the marble table.
"I said, sign the annulment agreement, Hester."
He looked at me like I was dirt, demanding I step aside so he could be with a manipulative intern named Tricia.
In my past life, I was a naive lamb. I cried and begged him not to end it. My devotion was rewarded with absolute cruelty. He ordered my bones broken and my reputation completely shredded. My trusted assistant forced poison down my throat, and I was left to die with a rope burning my neck.
Until my last breath, I didn't understand. I had done everything perfectly for the family. Why did my unwavering loyalty only bring me a gruesome death? Why did the monsters who tortured me get to live happily in the highest seats of power?
Opening my eyes again, the suffocating terror of the noose suddenly washed away. I was sixteen again, staring at the exact same annulment papers.
"Hester, please. Just let us be happy," Tricia whimpered, reaching out her trembling hand.
This time, I didn't cry. I picked up the solid gold fountain pen, stabbed it violently through the center of the contract, and prepared to drag the entire First Family straight to hell.

Fiona spent three years in a concrete cell, taking the fall for a hit-and-run accident caused by her billionaire husband's mistress.
When she finally got out and returned home, she found him throwing a lavish party, with the mistress on his arm wearing a gown Fiona had designed. Even worse, her own seven-year-old son pointed at her in disgust.
"Go away, bad woman!"
Her husband Cecil threw her out like a stray dog. To force her into submission, he trashed her belongings and cut off the life-saving medical funding for her mentor. Driven to desperation, Fiona snuck back into the mansion to retrieve her late mother's sapphire necklace. But the mistress caught her, ripped her own clothes, and screamed that Fiona was trying to kill her. Cecil didn't even hesitate. He violently shoved Fiona backward. Her head smashed against the sharp edge of a mahogany desk, and blood immediately poured into her eyes.
Lying in a pool of her own blood, Fiona watched the man she had sacrificed her freedom for wrap his arms protectively around the woman who ruined her life. He looked at her with pure, murderous disgust, as if she were the monster.
But Fiona didn't cry. Instead, a cold smile crept onto her face as her bloody thumb secretly pressed the emergency SOS button on her phone, snapping a clear photo of him standing over her shattered body.
"My husband just violently attacked me. I am bleeding from the head. I need help."
The police were already on their way. It was time to burn his empire to the ground.