"Victor, I want to break up." Vella's statement was like a bomb, shattering the man's heart into broken pieces.

"What?" Shock washed over Victor, his expression stunned. His face instantly turned pale.

"We've been together for three years, and you want to break up? Don't joke around! It's not April Fools!"

Victor couldn't accept it calmly. Anger took over his face, which hardened as he held back his emotions.

"I'm sorry, Victor. I don't think I can be with you anymore." Vella's firm tone proved her words were serious.

"But, why?" His eyes showed profound disappointment. Victor asked, his voice almost choked.

"I'm tired of you. I hope you'll be okay. Goodbye, Victor." Vella turned and walked away. Her retreating steps seemed to take Victor's life force with them.

Victor collapsed weakly onto the ground.

Ironically, today was the day Victor had prepared to kneel before Vella with love and offer her a ring.

But now, the velvet box remained in his pocket, never shown to the girl.

Anger, disappointment—these two emotions merging in his heart had now created hatred in Victor's mind. His trembling hands clenched tightly.

"I won't let you go so easily, Vella," he muttered with a determined glint in his eyes.

Then he called someone and gave an order. "Make them get married immediately!"

He hung up the phone directly. "Vella, just wait, I won't let you leave me forever."

***

One year later.

Vella stood in a corner of the magnificent ballroom, her fingers clutching a glass of champagne she hadn't even sipped. The light from the crystal chandelier overhead reflected opulence throughout the room, gleaming off expensive gowns and tailored suits worn by the guests. The scent of red wine and expensive perfume mingled in the air, creating an exclusive atmosphere that should have impressed her—but instead felt suffocating.

Her mother's wedding was not an event she had looked forward to. This wasn't a warm family celebration, but a showcase for socialites and entertainment industry elites. The guests weren't just relatives, but investors, executives from major corporations, and faces frequently seen in fashion magazines and on screen.

At a nearby table, a famous actress laughed gracefully, swirling her wine glass while conversing with a producer. Elsewhere, an international model was posing for photographers from prominent media outlets. Every corner of the room was filled with business conversations veiled in small talk, overly perfect smiles, and assessing glances that made Vella feel like an outsider.

She glanced towards the newlyweds—her mother, in an elegant wedding dress, and the man who was now her stepfather. Her new stepfather was a successful businessman, a figure she had only heard about in the news. Vella didn't really know him, just as she felt increasingly distant from her mother.

As a waiter passed by offering a tray of drinks, Vella snapped out of her reverie. She sighed and took a slow sip of champagne, trying to ignore the strange feeling weighing on her chest. But before she could truly feel comfortable, she caught the sound of faint whispers among the guests.

"He's here…."

"The CEO of Alves Entertainment is here?"

Vella didn't pay much attention, thinking it was just another important guest. But then, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Conversations died down, people turned towards the entrance, as if witnessing the arrival of someone who couldn't be ignored.

And that's when Vella saw him.

A tall man in a flawless black suit stepped in with confidence. His gaze was sharp, his aura dominating the room. Some greeted him with respect, some women flashed inviting smiles, but the man seemed indifferent.

Then his eyes met Vella's.

A faint smile appeared on his lips—a smile so familiar, so dangerous.

Vella's blood ran cold. It was Victor.

The world seemed to stop spinning as Vella stared at the man. Time felt slow, the noise of the party faded away, and there was only that gaze—Victor's cold, sharp stare, like a predator who had just found his prey again.

Victor Alexander.

CEO of Alexander Entertainment.

A major name in the entertainment industry, someone she had only heard about in the news or gossip among models and actors. But it couldn't be—it couldn't be the same Victor. It couldn't be her ex-boyfriend who had once claimed to be just an ordinary manager at a small company, now standing here as the most powerful man in the room.

But reality was cruel.

Victor stepped forward calmly, his posture still upright and graceful. People made way for him, as if his presence alone commanded deference. Vella's heart pounded loudly in her chest, her breath caught.

She wanted to look away. She wanted to leave. But her body froze on the spot.

Then, Victor stopped right in front of her.

The smile was still on his face—just like before. But there was something different. Something that made her hair stand on end.

"Long time no see, Vella," he said softly, his voice deep and smooth, yet carrying a tension that was piercing.

The voice she had once known so well. The voice that had once whispered sweet promises in her ear, before eventually turning into something binding and suffocating.

Vella swallowed. "Victor…?"

The man raised an eyebrow, as if enjoying her shock. "I'm curious," he continued, "why do you look so surprised? As if you've just seen a ghost."

Vella shook her head slowly, trying to steady her breath. "I just didn't… expect this."

"Didn't expect me to be here?" Victor smirked, taking a step closer. "Or didn't expect me to be someone more than just an 'ordinary manager'?"

Vella's heart beat even faster. During their three-year relationship, Victor had never once told her about his background. Vella believed he was just a simple man working at an ordinary office, someone who was always there for her, loving her in an almost obsessive way—but still, just an ordinary man.

But it was all a lie.

Victor Alexander was no ordinary man. He was a man who could have anything. A man with the power to build… or destroy.

The smile on Victor's face didn't fade as he continued in a casual tone, as if this was just light party conversation.

"You look better than the last time we met."

That remark brought Vella back to one year ago—the day she unilaterally broke up with Victor. The day she chose to leave without looking back. The day she thought she had broken free.

Turns out, she was terribly wrong.

Vella swallowed hard, trying to strengthen herself. "I thought we would never see each other again."

Victor looked at her for a moment, then let out a small laugh. "Oh, darling…" He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, almost to a whisper. "Did you really think I would let that happen?"

Vella froze.

Before she could say anything, Victor slipped his hand into his suit pocket and glanced at her with a meaningful expression. "Aren't you curious why your career suddenly plummeted after we broke up?"

Victor's words hung in the air, creating a wave of tension that immediately ensnared Vella.

"Aren't you curious why your career suddenly plummeted after we broke up?"

Vella's world seemed to pause for a moment. Her breath caught, and for a second, she couldn't say anything.

Victor was still staring at her, enjoying her shock like someone deliberately trapping their prey.

"What do you mean?" Vella finally found her voice, although it sounded weaker than she had hoped.

Victor shrugged casually, as if his question wasn't a big deal. "I'm just asking. Isn't it an interesting thing? You were quite a promising model back then. Then, suddenly, your agency terminated your contract. The ads that were supposed to feature your beautiful face suddenly chose other models. Even several companies that were once very eager to work with you... changed their minds."

Vella felt her blood run cold. She remembered all of that clearly.

A year ago, after breaking up with Victor, everything had started to change without her realizing it. At first, she thought it was just a coincidence—the entertainment industry was cruel and competitive. But now, hearing the way Victor said it…

Was it all not a coincidence?

"I don't know what you're talking about." Vella tried to control her expression. "This industry is tough. Not everyone can survive."

Victor smiled slightly, but his gaze said otherwise. "Yes, that's true. But some people just need a little... help to fall."

Vella's heart beat faster.

No, this couldn't be. He couldn't possibly...

Victor stepped closer, making her feel increasingly cornered by his intimidating aura. "I'm curious, Vella," he whispered softly. "When all that was happening… didn't you ever suspect even a little?"

Vella straightened her back, refusing to appear weak. "If you're trying to say you had something to do with that—"

Victor let out a small laugh, but there was something eerie in his voice. "I'm just asking." He stared deep into her eyes, as if enjoying how her mind was beginning to unravel.

Vella wanted to move away. She wanted to turn around and forget all of this. But before she could take a step, Victor continued in a lower, more threatening tone.

"But I'm glad to see you here, Vella. It seems fate still wants us to meet."

Vella clenched her fists at her sides, trying to suppress the tremors creeping into her fingertips.

Fate?

Or was this something Victor had planned from the very beginning?

Before she could say anything, someone called Victor from a distance. A middle-aged man in an expensive suit—Vella's stepfather.

"Oh, Victor! I didn't know you were coming."

Victor turned, displaying a friendlier smile. "I couldn't miss an important wedding like this."

Vella's stepfather patted Victor's shoulder familiarly before turning to Vella. "You've met Victor, right? He is my son… and now, technically, he is your stepbrother."

Vella's world felt like it was crumbling further.

Step… brother?

Victor looked at her again, his smile widening—a smile that made her blood curdle uncomfortably.

"Glad to be part of your family, Vella."

Her blood seemed to stop flowing as she stared at Victor, searching for signs that this was just a bad joke. But the man only gave a small smile—a smile that was never truly warm, a smile that hid something behind it.

Vella wanted to say something, anything, but her throat felt dry.

"Oh, you two already know each other?" Her stepfather chuckled, seemingly unaware of the tension between them. "Good, good. I was hoping you could get along."

Victor stared at Vella without looking away. "Of course. Vella and I… have a long history."

Vella clenched her fingers, trying to calm her wildly beating heart. Victor's gaze made her feel as if she was trapped in a game she couldn't control.

"I didn't know you were the son of my father's business partner," Vella finally said, her voice striving to sound steady despite a slight tremor.

Victor smiled. "There are many things you don't know, Vella."

Before Vella could retort, someone approached—a woman in a bright red dress and perfect makeup. A face she knew all too well.

Chloe Laurent.

A top model, the favorite face of luxury brands, and most importantly… the woman who had indirectly destroyed her career.

"Victor." Chloe touched Victor's arm in a overly familiar way. "I've been looking for you."

Vella's gaze hardened. She remembered clearly how Chloe had snatched the projects that should have been hers a year ago. That woman was always one step ahead, as if there was an invisible force constantly pushing her upward—and now, seeing her here, standing next to Victor…

A frightening possibility dawned on Vella.

Was all this connected?

Was Victor the one helping Chloe rise, while she fell?

"Ah, Chloe," Victor turned to her casually, but there was something cold in his tone. "I suppose you've met Vella before, haven't you?"

Chloe smiled thinly, her gaze assessing Vella from head to toe. "Of course. We worked together… once."

Once. Before everything fell apart.

Vella steeled herself. She couldn't appear weak. Not in front of Victor. Not in front of Chloe.

Victor looked at Vella meaningfully. "It's a small world, isn't it?"

Vella lifted her chin slightly, trying to show she was unaffected. "Yes. And full of surprises."

Victor smiled. "Oh, this is just the beginning, Vella."

Victor said it in a casual tone, as if the words carried no veiled threat. But Vella knew better—she knew this man never said anything without a specific intention.

Chloe was still standing beside Victor, her arm linked with his in a clear display of possession. The smile on her face looked sweet, but the glint in her eyes said otherwise.

"So," Chloe tilted her head slightly, her expression full of feigned curiosity. "After all this time, you're finally back in this world, Vella?"

Vella felt her jaw tighten. She knew Chloe was testing her, trying to find a weakness to belittle her.

"I never really left," Vella replied, her voice remaining calm.

Chloe let out a small laugh, covering her mouth gracefully. "Of course. But… this world changes so fast, you know? New models appear all the time, and this industry only accepts those who can survive."

Vella knew the underlying meaning behind those words. Chloe was saying that her spot had been taken. That she had been forgotten.

Before Vella could retort, Victor spoke, his eyes still locked on her. "Don't worry, Chloe. I'm sure Vella still has a place in this world… if she knows how to survive."

There was something in the way Victor said it that made Vella's stomach clench.

"And you certainly know how, don't you, Vella?" Victor continued. "You've experienced it before—how it feels to lose everything."

Vella tensed. She could feel her heart pounding hard, but she refused to show her weakness. She looked directly into Victor's eyes, trying to find answers there.

"What do you really want, Victor?" she finally asked.

Victor smiled slightly, raising the champagne glass he was holding. "I just want to enjoy tonight. Celebrate our family's wedding."

Family. The word felt so wrong coming from his mouth.

"But of course," Victor continued, "we'll be seeing each other often from now on. As siblings… I should naturally make sure you're doing well."

A chill ran down Vella's spine. She knew this wasn't just a warning. It was a promise.

Victor never did anything without a reason.

And now, he was back in her life.

Not as an ex-lover.

But as her stepbrother.

---

Vella walked out of the ballroom with quick steps, letting the sounds of the still-echoing party fade behind her. Her hands were clenched at her sides, her mind in turmoil.

Victor.

That man hadn't just returned; he now had an unavoidable place in her life. Stepbrother? It felt like a cruel joke the universe had created to trap her back in the snare of her past.

She needed air.

Pushing open the balcony door, Vella took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. The cold night air touched her skin, offering a slight sense of peace.

But that peace only lasted a few seconds.

"Are you running away from me, Vella?"

That voice made her body tense.

Vella closed her eyes for a moment before turning around. Victor stood in the balcony doorway, looking at her with a relaxed expression, but his eyes gleamed with something hard to explain.

"I just needed some air," she replied, trying to sound neutral.

Victor stepped out, approaching with movements that were too smooth, too controlled. "Air?" He let out a dramatic sigh. "Or do you need to get away from me?"

Vella stared at him sharply. "Do you want me to stay away?"

Victor gave a small smile. "No. Quite the opposite."

Vella's heart beat even faster.

"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, her voice softer.

Victor shrugged, his expression remaining calm. "Doing what?"

"Coming back into my life. Appearing as my... stepbrother." The word almost caught in her throat.

Victor looked at her for a long time before answering, his voice low and smooth. "I didn't choose this, Vella. Just like you didn't."

"But you're enjoying it," Vella accused.

Victor laughed softly, but there was something dangerous behind it. "Of course. It's an interesting game, isn't it?"

Vella felt her blood boil. "You can't play with me, Victor."

The man stepped closer, forcing her to retreat until her back touched the balcony railing. She could feel his presence so close, his masculine scent and expensive cologne wafting in the air.

"I don't need to play with you," he whispered, staring at her as if piercing her soul. "I'm just taking back what should have never left me."

Vella held her breath, her body frozen.

"I don't belong to you," she said with as much firmness as she could muster.

Victor raised his hand, his fingers tracing a strand of her hair with a gentleness that felt threatening. "Oh, darling... that's what we'll see."

Vella swallowed, trying to suppress the fear creeping inside her.

One thing she realized tonight:

Victor was not going to let her go.

Flashback.

New York, one year ago.

Vella was just beginning her career as a commercial model. She lived in a small apartment in Manhattan, a place comfortable enough for a newcomer in the entertainment industry. Her life was busy, filled with auditions, photoshoots, and parties she had to attend to expand her network.

Amidst that busyness, there was one person always present in her life: Victor.

Back then, Victor wasn't the CEO everyone knew. He was just a man who claimed to work as a manager at an ordinary company. He was attentive, always by her side, and always made sure her needs were met.

Too attentive.

Vella remembered how she initially thought Victor's attention was sweet.

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he'd say every time he showed up at her apartment unannounced, bringing food and preparing everything for her.

"I don't need to be looked after like this, Victor. I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can. But I want to do it for you," he'd answer with a soft smile that always made it hard for her to get angry.

At first, Vella let Victor into her world. She felt loved in such an intense way, something she had never experienced before.

However, as time went on, that attention turned into something more... binding.

Victor started showing up at her photoshoot locations, waiting for her until she finished.

He would message her constantly, asking where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing.

He would call her in the middle of the night just to make sure she was home and not out with anyone.

"Victor, you don't always need to know where I am."

"Of course I need to know. It's not about trust, Vella. It's about making sure you're safe."

"I'm fine," she insisted.

Victor smiled slightly, but his eyes remained sharp. "I just want you to stay by my side. Is that so hard?"

That was when Vella started to feel trapped. Victor's love wasn't liberating—it was possessive.

The breaking point was the night Vella decided she couldn't go on like this.

That night, she had received an offer to attend a major industry party, a golden opportunity to build connections. Victor opposed it.

"You don't need to go to parties like that," he said coldly. "I can introduce you to more influential people."

"Victor, this is my career. I have to build it myself."

Victor stared at her in silence, his jaw tightening. "So you're choosing them over me?"

"That's not the point. I just need space."

Victor sighed, then gently stroked her cheek. "Alright," he finally said. "If that's what you want."

"Tomorrow, meet me at the city square," Victor said.

Then he left just like that, leaving Vella standing at the doorway of her apartment with mixed feelings.

She should have felt relieved. So why did her chest feel tight?

As the night grew later, her mind kept racing.

Victor loved her—she knew that. But Victor's love was too big, too suffocating, too binding, making her feel like she was losing control of her own life.

And now, she knew what she had to do.

Tomorrow, she would end it all.

The Next Day – City Square

A light snow fell on that winter morning, covering the sidewalks with a soft white. The New York city square was quiet, with only a few people passing by, enjoying the cold air while sipping hot coffee.

Vella stood in the middle of the square, her fingers hidden deep in the pockets of her long coat. She felt nervous, but she had to do it.

Then, she saw him.

Victor walked towards her with steady steps, wearing a long black coat that made him stand out even more in the crowd. His hand was gripping something inside his jacket pocket, and there was a soft gleam in his eyes as he looked at Vella.

For a moment, Vella felt hesitant.

But no. She couldn't hesitate.

"Thank you for coming," Victor said, his voice softer than usual.

Vella swallowed. "I want to talk about something."

Victor gave a small smile. "Me too."

Her heart pounded hard as the man took a breath, as if gathering courage.

But before Victor could continue, Vella spoke first.

"I want to break up."

Instantly, time seemed to stop.

Victor didn't react immediately. He just stared at Vella, as if her words made no sense.

"What?" his voice was low, almost a whisper.

Vella bit her lip, holding back the guilt beginning to creep into her chest. "I think... our relationship has gone too far. I need space, Victor. I want to live my own life again."

Victor remained silent.

Then, with a slow movement, the hand that had been hidden in his jacket pocket clenched something tightly.

A ring.

A small diamond ring in a black velvet box.

But before Vella could see it, Victor calmly slipped it back into his pocket, hiding his intention as if it had never existed.

Her heart sank.

Yet Victor didn't show his surprise any longer. He nodded slowly, then gave a small smile—a smile that, strangely, felt colder than usual.

"If that's what you want."

Vella thought he would get angry. Would beg. Would ask why.

But no.

Victor just stood there, accepting her decision without a fight.

And for some reason, that felt far more terrifying.

Flashback end.

---