My Ex BF Became an Obsessive Stepbrother

The night sky was a purplish-black as Vella went down to the dining room. The large house felt too quiet; only the clinking of cutlery and the sound of slow footsteps on the marble floor could be heard.

At the head of the long table, Victor was already waiting. He wore a black shirt with the top two buttons undone, his hair still slightly damp, the scent of his woody cologne filling the air.

"Sit down," he said without looking up. His voice sounded calm, but there was something in its tone—a control that left no room for refusal.

Vella pulled out the chair opposite him. "You didn't need to go to the trouble of preparing this."

Victor glanced at her. "It was no trouble. I just wanted to have dinner with my family."

The word my family was uttered with a subtle emphasis that made it hard for Vella to swallow.

They ate in silence for several minutes. Only the sound of spoons touching plates could be heard. But Vella knew Victor was watching her with every breath she took.

"How was your day?" Victor finally asked.

"Fine," Vella answered softly. "I just stayed home like you said."

Victor nodded slowly, as if satisfied. "Good." He looked at his plate for a moment before adding, "I don't like repeating myself, Vella. I told you not to open anything in this house without my knowledge."

The spoon in Vella's hand stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. "You—you knew I opened something?" Victor's smile didn't reach his eyes."I know everything in this house." He leaned forward slightly. "Did you think I would leave something here unsupervised?"

The blood drained from Vella's face. "So you planted that flash drive on purpose?"

Victor didn't answer. He just looked at her, for a long time, with a faint smile that, strangely, wasn't malicious—more like someone enjoying a dangerous game.

"I just wanted to know," Vella said finally, trying to stay calm. "Why were there photos of me on it?"

"Because I kept them," Victor answered lightly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I keep everything I consider important."

"Without my permission?"

"I never needed permission to remember my past."

Vella fell silent. There was a side of Victor that truly frightened her now. But on the other hand, there was something in his voice that made her chest feel tight—like nostalgia wrapped in obsession.

"Victor," she said softly, "I don't belong to you anymore."

Victor let out a short, low, almost soundless laugh. "You're right. But I never considered you merely mine, either." He stood up, walked around the table, and stopped behind her chair.

His hand touched her shoulder gently, softly but making her stiffen. "You know what made me angry back then?" he whispered near her ear. "It wasn't that you broke up with me. It was that you thought you could forget everything so easily."

Vella looked down, staring at her now-cold plate. "I had to forget you. I didn't know who you really were."

"And now you do," Victor answered in a tone that was soft yet full of meaning. "You live in my house, under my name, and the whole world knows you as my sister."

He bent down, his eyes meeting Vella's, which were trembling with restrained anger and fear. "Funny, isn't it? How fate forces us together again."

"Fate?" Vella held her breath. "You call all of this fate?"

Victor smiled. "Anything that lets me see you every day—I'll call it fate." He brushed a strand of hair from Vella's face,his fingers stopping at her neck. The touch made her breath catch.

"Victor… please stop this," she whispered.

Victor looked at her for a long time, then said quietly, "I'll only stop if you can stop making me care."

Silence.

Their eyes met, and in that silence, something almost broke. Vella wanted to stand up, but Victor had already turned away, walking towards the balcony.

"Tomorrow," he said, without looking back, "I'm introducing you to some people from the industry. I want you to return to the modeling world."

Vella stared at his back, shocked. "What? I—I'm not ready—"

"You will be," Victor interrupted. "I'll make sure you get all your contracts back. Every door that was closed to you before, I'll open again." He looked at Vella from the shadows of the balcony door. "Just… this time, you'll be walking under my name."

The sound of the night outside was quiet.

Vella knew she had just entered a game far deeper than she realized. And behind Victor's cold smile,something was waiting to explode.

As Victor left the room, Vella's phone vibrated in her lap. A new message came from that mysterious number again: "Don't trust anything he offers you. The world he's opening for you isn't the same as before."

Vella stared at the screen, then at the door where Victor had just disappeared. For the first time, she truly didn't know if that man was saving her… or leading her into a trap of his own making.

---

The afternoon air smelled sweet—like garden flowers blooming after the rain. From her bedroom balcony, Vella could hear her mother's laughter downstairs, warm and light.

They were finally home.

After two weeks of honeymoon, the house, which had been quiet, was now bustling again. But for Vella, the sound was no longer comforting; it made her chest feel heavy. Because along with that sound, one sentence had been hanging in her head since morning.

"You'll be walking under my name."

Victor's words. A threat, a promise, or both—she didn't know.

Her bedroom door was knocked on twice.

"Vella?" her mother's voice called.

Vella quickly wiped her face and opened the door. "Mama…"

The woman smiled brightly, hugging her tightly. "You look thinner. You're eating properly, right?"

"Yes, Ma."

Her mother stepped into the room, her eyes warm and shining. "Victor is downstairs too. Your father and I want to talk. We're attending a big family event tomorrow night. The whole family will be there—and of course, you two must come as well."

Vella swallowed. "A family… event?"

"Yes. From your stepfather's side of the family. It's big, formal, and very important. You two need to look harmonious, so there's no strange gossip."

Vella just nodded.

Harmonious.

The word echoed in her head. That night,before bed, Vella knocked on Victor's door. She knew she had to talk.

The door opened, revealing Victor in casual clothes. "What is it?"

"Did you hear about the event tomorrow?"

Victor leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Of course. I've even prepared the digital invitations."

"We have to look normal," Vella said quickly. "Like regular siblings. I don't want Mama to suspect anything." Victor's eyebrow raised slightly."Normal?"

"Yes."

He gave a thin smile, an unreadable expression. "If that's what you want, we'll look very… normal."

His tone was too calm, too soft, to not be suspicious.

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