My Brother-In-Law Pursued Me, But It Was Too Late

Without a word, Stellan scooped Juliet into his arms. As he turned to leave, he cast Elara a cold glance.

"Your sister got injured because of you. Shouldn’t you go back and take care of her?"

Then, without waiting for a response, he walked away, his indifference cutting deeper than any blade.

Elara lowered her gaze to her bandaged hands. Beneath the gauze, the wounds were still raw—jagged scars left by shattered glass just a week ago.

That night, she and Juliet had argued over the past, over the lies that had ruined everything. In the heat of the moment, Juliet had shoved her down the stairs, sending her crashing into a porcelain vase.

Yet somehow, the story twisted. By the time the dust settled, it was Elara who had become the villain.

"She tried to seduce Stellan again," Juliet had cried, her voice trembling with well-practiced innocence. "When I confronted her, she got angry and pushed me down the stairs!"

Elara had denied it, had fought to defend herself, but it didn’t matter.

Stellan had already made up his mind.

The betrayal from five years ago had hardened him, and now, every accusation against her was a confirmation of the woman he already believed her to be.

A year ago, tragedy had struck—the Whitmore Family mansion had gone up in flames, taking her adoptive parents with it. In the aftermath, Juliet had moved into Stellan’s home. And with nowhere else to go, so had Elara.

But this wasn’t a home. It was a prison.

As soon as she stepped through the door that night, Stellan seized her wrist, dragging her into the living room before she could even take off her coat.

"Juliet’s legs hurt. You should massage them. And wash her feet while you’re at it."

Elara’s breath caught in her throat.

Juliet sat comfortably on the sofa, a basin of warm water placed before her, waiting.

"Stellan, Elara's hand is still injured. This isn't right," Juliet said softly, a gentle smile on her lips.

Elara clenched her fists. That fake kindness—it was suffocating.

When she didn't move, Stellan shoved her forward. "Juliet's leg was injured because of you. You owe her this."

"I don't owe her anything," Elara bit out, her teeth clenched to hold back the tears stinging her eyes.

Stellan’s patience snapped. Grabbing her injured hand, he forced it into the basin of water. A sharp, searing pain shot through her, making her body tremble.

"You owe Juliet," he said coldly. "And you owe me even more."

He knew exactly how to break her.

"Massage Juliet. You’re a doctor, aren’t you? You should know how to make her feel better."

The words stabbed deep, but Elara swallowed the pain and did as he said. With each movement, her torn skin protested, and soon, the water in the basin turned bright red.

"Ah! Blood!" Juliet shrieked.

A second later, her foot lashed out, kicking Elara square in the face.

The impact sent Elara crashing to the ground, the basin spilling beside her. Water and blood mixed beneath her hands, her vision spinning.

"Get out of my sight!" Stellan’s voice was like ice. "You can’t even do something this simple. If you scare Juliet again, I won’t let you off."

Then, as if she were made of porcelain, he scooped Juliet into his arms. She curled against his chest, looking fragile and shaken.

"Elara, don’t blame me for reacting this way," she murmured, gently resting a hand on her stomach. "The first three months are the most important. This is Stellan’s and my first child—I have to be careful."

The words were like a thunderclap in Elara’s mind.

She knew this day would come, but the reality of it still crushed her. Her throat tightened as if invisible hands were strangling her.

She looked up at Stellan, searching for something—anything—in his face. But he wouldn’t even meet her gaze. Without a word, he carried Juliet upstairs, disappearing into the bedroom.

Elara stood frozen before finally dragging herself back to her room. Her hands trembled as she treated the wound, each movement mechanical, detached.

Then, she reached for the rural appointment form.

Her last escape.

If she didn’t sign this form, there was still a chance to turn back. But if she did…

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

She hesitated before opening it.

Stellan stood there, his face unreadable.

"This is medicine from the army." His voice was gruff.

Elara didn’t reach for it, but he shoved it into her hands anyway.