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 5
AVA
The moment he left my room, my legs gave out. I didn't even realize when I sat down on the bed.
My heart was still racing and my thoughts were running faster than I could hold onto any of them.
Marry him?
Lucien?
I placed my hands on my face to try to calm my breathing. But the more I thought about what he said, the more the past started rearranging itself in my head.
Small things, things I never questioned before, like the day he told me not to call our parents Mom and Dad.
I was nine.
We were having dinner, and I remember calling Seraphina "Mom". Lucien's voice cut in immediately.
"Don't call her that."
I had looked at him, confused.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because they're not your parents," he said flatly.
I remembered how quiet the table had gone.
Seraphina had tried to smooth it over, saying I could call them whatever made me comfortable but Lucien didn't agree.
Back then, I thought he was just being rude and cold. I thought he didn't like me.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think he was drawing lines on purpose... separating me from the family label in his own mind.
My stomach twisted.
I needed to talk to someone, anyone, so I grabbed my phone and called Stella.
She picked up after a few rings, but the background was loud with music, cheering, and voices overlapping.
"Ava?" she said. "I'm at a concert right now. It's crazy loud. Can I call you later?"
My throat tightened suddenly.
I didn't realize how much I needed to hear someone's voice until that moment.
"Stella..." My voice cracked.
There was a pause on the line.
"Ava? Are you crying?"
I tried to speak, but the tears came faster than the words.
"I... I need to talk to someone," I managed. "I need to talk to you."
Stella's tone changed immediately, sounding so concerned.
"Hey, hey... it's okay," she said quickly. "Hold on, alright? Give me a few minutes. I'll step out and call you back."
"O-okay..."
"Don't hang up on me mentally," she added softly. "I'm calling you back soon."
The line ended.
I dropped the phone beside me and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
My chest still felt tight.
Everything Lucien said replayed in my head.
YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN MINE.
I covered my eyes with my arms
"This is insane," I whispered.
My phone rang again. It was Stella.
I sat up quickly and answered. This time it was quiet on her end.
"You okay?" she asked immediately. "I left the concert."
Guilt flashed through me. "You didn't have to-"
"Stop," she cut in. "What's going on?"
I swallowed.
"It's Lucien."
"What about him?" she asked. "Is he sick?"
"No." I answered.
"Did something happen? Was there an accident?" She pressed.
"No," I said quickly.
"Then what?" she pressed, losing patience. "Ava, just say it."
I took a deep breath trying to summon enough courage to talk, then I answered. "Lucien wants to marry me."
There was a beat of silence over the phone, then I heard her scream.
"WHAT?"
I winced as her voice burst through the phone.
"You heard me," I muttered weakly.
She went quiet again for two seconds.
Then she laughed, a full disbelieving laugh.
"Ava, stop joking," she said. "That's not funny."
"I'm not joking."
"Wait...you're serious?" she asked slowly.
"Yes."
"Okay. Start from the beginning."
I swallowed.
"He announced it at dinner," I said. "In front of our parents like it was already decided."
"Announced?" she repeated. "Like a proposal?"
"No," I said quickly. "Not a proposal. More like... a declaration."
"What does that even mean?" she asked, confused.
"It means he didn't ask me," I said quietly. "He told them we were getting married."
Stella inhaled sharply on the other end. "You're kidding."
"I wish I was." I muttered.
"Did he hit his head recently?"
Despite everything, I let out a weak laugh. "No."
"So he just woke up and decided to marry his adopted sister?" she said, her disbelief turning into anger. "Is he insane?"
"I told him that," I murmured.
"And?" she demanded.
"He said I'm not his sister."
"What?"
"He said he never saw me as one."
"Ava... that's not normal." She said.
"I know."
"That's not romantic either," she added quickly. "That's controlling."
I didn't answer immediately because the truth was... it didn't feel simple enough to label.
"I'm scared," I admitted. "But I'm also... confused."
"Confused how?" she asked gently.
I stared up at the ceiling again.
"It's the way he said it. He was so certain. He wasn't hoping I'd agree... he already believed I would." I explained.
"That's called arrogance," Stella muttered.
"Maybe," I said. "But it didn't feel like arrogance. It felt like..."
I struggled to find the word.
"Like inevitability," I finished softly. "Like I don't actually have a choice."
Stella swore under her breath.
"Ava, listen to me," she said firmly, "You do have a choice. He doesn't get to decide your life just because he's rich and powerful."
I didn't respond right away because Lucien's voice echoed in my head again
You're still free to say no... but you won't.
"I don't think he sees it that way," I admitted.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... he talked like I've always been his. Like this was decided years ago."
Stella let out a frustrated breath.
"That's obsession, not love."
"He admitted that," I muttered.
"He admitted it?" she repeated.
"Yes."
"Okay, that's worse," she said immediately.
I laughed weakly.
"I don't know what to do, Stella."
Her tone softened. "First," she said, "you breathe."
I exhaled slowly.
"Second, you remember you're not trapped," she continued. "You're an adult. You can leave that house if you want to."
The thought made my chest tighten.
Leave?
I had just gotten back.
"I don't even know if I want to run," I admitted.
"Why not?" she asked.
"I just... need to think," I said instead.
Stella was quiet for a moment, then she spoke again, calmer but still protective.
"Okay. Think but don't let him pressure you into anything."
"I won't."
"I'm coming back." She announced.
I blinked. "What?"
"I'm coming back to Port Elam," she repeated. "Give me two days."
I sat up quickly. "Stella, no. You're not supposed to come back yet. You said you and Mark were waiting until his project was done."
"Forget Mark," she said instantly. "My best friend needs me. I'm not waiting around for a man."
"Girls over guys," she added firmly.
I could picture her shrugging as she said it.
"You're serious?" I asked.
"Dead serious," she replied. "You sound shaken, Ava. I'm not staying miles away while you deal with this alone."
"You don't have to do that," I said softly.
"I want to," she corrected. "Two days. I'll be there."
"Thank you." I murmured.
"Take care," she said and ended the call.
I stared at my phone for a moment, then it buzzed in my hand.
Maya calling.
My heart skipped.
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8.7
Brought back from a humble life in Montana, Nora found out she was the true biological heiress of the ultra-wealthy Beaumont family.
But her biological parents didn't love her; they loved the fake daughter, Olivia, much more.
The moment she arrived, her father pushed an engagement termination agreement across his massive desk, forcing her to give up her wealthy fiancé so Olivia could have him.
Her mother looked at her with pure disdain.
"You should know your place. Don't reach for things that were never meant for you."
To break her spirit, they moved her into a cramped, dusty servant's room. They even ordered the butler to feed her cold kitchen scraps and gristle.
They wanted to humiliate her, to make her feel like a piece of trash rather than a daughter.
They expected her to cry, to beg, and to be absolutely crushed by the realization that her own flesh and blood saw her only as a liability to their reputation.
They thought the country girl would easily fold under their united front of cruelty.
But Nora felt no sting of betrayal, only the calculating clarity of a chess player.
She calmly signed the paper, pulled out the Beaumont family trust rules, and looked them dead in the eye.
"Since I am the legal heir, I demand what belongs to me. I'm taking the master bedroom."
8.0
Finley's stepfather gave her a sickening ultimatum: marry her predatory stepbrother Shane tonight, or he would throw her fragile mother out on the street.
To escape this hell, she used a matchmaking agency and hastily married a complete stranger. Garrison Strickland claimed to be an ordinary data analyst making $95,000 a year, driving a beat-up Honda Civic, and needing a wife in name only. They got their marriage license at City Hall that very afternoon.
But when Finley returned home to pack her bags and threw the certificate on the table, her family just laughed. Dozier ordered Shane to drag her into the bedroom to "teach her a lesson" and trap her forever.
"Come on, little sister," Shane crooned, lunging at her. "Don't fight it."
Finley's own mother just stared at the floor, blaming Finley for ruining the family, watching blindly as Shane cornered her.
Terrified and desperate, Finley smashed an ashtray over Shane's head and frantically dialed her new husband's number. Shane snatched the phone, mocking the "imaginary husband" before the line went dead. Finley felt a bottomless despair. Garrison was just a normal guy; he would never risk his life against her violent family. She was completely on her own, waiting for the end.
Suddenly, deafening bangs echoed through the house, and Garrison stepped into the living room radiating a cold, terrifying fury. This supposedly "frugal data analyst" effortlessly snapped Shane's wrist, leveled a ruthless death threat that made Dozier tremble, and whisked Finley away in a waiting Bentley. Looking at the powerful man beside her, Finley's heart raced: just who exactly had she married today?
7.6
I am the illegitimate, mute daughter of the wealthy Owen family, kept hidden in the attic like a shameful secret.
To save his failing company, my father decided to sell me off to a repulsive, predatory investor named Grossman.
At the family dinner, Grossman's sweaty hands roamed my bare legs while my half-sister Kaleigh intentionally spilled red wine on my dress, laughing as she watched me suffer.
When I grabbed a steak knife to defend myself, my father slammed his fist on the table.
"Sit down, or I will cut off the maintenance payments for your mother's grave."
My stepmother and sister sneered, treating me like a piece of meat meant to be sacrificed for their luxury. I was starved, locked away, and treated worse than a stray dog, all while my family paraded their high-society status to the world.
I couldn't understand why they hated me so deeply, or who really ordered the hit that killed my mother twenty years ago. The police reports were buried, and I was entirely powerless, trapped in a house of monsters.
But they didn't know that the night before, I had accidentally stumbled into the secret life of Burleigh Livingston—the ruthless, supposedly paralyzed billionaire who was faking his madness.
When Burleigh suddenly crashed our family dinner and threw a limitless Black Card on the table to outbid Grossman and buy me for the night, I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, accepted his twisted deal, and prepared to use the devil himself to tear my family apart.
7.1
The night before her wedding to Wall Street billionaire Everette Baird, Deliah Quinn stood happily in her haute couture gown.
Then, her younger sister Arvilla walked in, handed her a drugged glass of champagne, and slammed an ultrasound on the vanity.
"I'm pregnant with Everette's child," Arvilla sneered.
Before Deliah's paralyzed body could react, Arvilla dragged in a canister of industrial gasoline, soaked the bridal suite, tossed a lighter, and locked the heavy oak doors from the outside.
To escape the roaring inferno, Deliah smashed the glass balcony and threw herself into the freezing, violent waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
For five agonizing years, everyone believed the Quinn heiress was dead.
Deliah returned to New York entirely reborn—a top architectural designer and a single mother, having scrubbed her past clean and forgotten the people who destroyed her.
She only wanted a peaceful life with her five-year-old genius son, Leo.
But she had no idea her son was secretly hacking airport security cameras to find himself a wealthy stepdad.
Leo deliberately bumped into a terrifying, cold-blooded tycoon, spilling scalding coffee on his custom suit to get his attention.
When Deliah frantically rushed over to protect her son and apologize, the air in the terminal vanished.
Everette Baird stared at the exact face he had obsessively mourned for five years, his eyes turning pitch black as he crushed his phone in his bare hand.
9.4
I was the eldest daughter of the powerful Kirk family, sent away to a Swiss sanatorium to recover from my supposed mental illness.
But my stepmother, Johnie, never intended for me to get better. She sent her personal cleaners to drag me onto a plane back to Washington D.C.
In my past life, I didn't know they were assassins. I was forcefully injected with heavy sedatives and locked in a secret torture chamber inside our luxury estate.
My stepmother and cousin skimmed my inheritance while watching me suffer.
They framed me as a crazy addict, and my own father, a sitting Senator, turned a blind eye to protect his political career.
"Her political value is gone, just get rid of her quietly."
That was the last thing I heard my father say before I was brutally slaughtered by my own family.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why they hated me so much.
Why did my father let them force those pills down my throat?
Why was my life worth less than my stepmother's public image?
Opening my eyes again, the freezing sensation of lake water filling my lungs vanished.
I was back in the VIP room of the St. Moritz Sanatorium in 2023.
It was the exact morning before the cleaners walked through my door with uncapped syringes.
This time, I wouldn't just survive. I was going to cut the throat of the Kirk family.
8.2
Ashley was tied to a rusted iron pillar in an abandoned warehouse, the noxious fumes of gasoline soaking her clothes.
Her fiancé Devon and her stepsister Brittany stood before her, revealing a horrifying truth. Devon never saved her from that fatal car crash three years ago; he merely stole the credit.
Worse, Brittany smirked and confessed that Ashley's own father had orchestrated her mother's murder. Before Ashley could process the betrayal, Devon callously tossed a lighter. A wall of blistering heat instantly consumed her. Even when Bennett Hawkins, the cold and untouchable billionaire, rushed into the inferno to shield her with his body, they were both swallowed by the explosion.
As the fire melted her skin, Ashley died with agonizing hatred. Why did her own flesh and blood want her dead? What dark secret were they hiding about her mother's tragic death?
Opening her eyes again, freezing saltwater violently flooded her lungs.
She was back at her twentieth birthday yacht party, right after Brittany had secretly pushed her into the freezing Hudson River.
Staring at the hypocritical faces of her family pretending it was an accident, Ashley didn't cry or beg. She calmly snatched a phone and dialed 911.
"Yes. I need to report an attempted murder."