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.

---

Vella tried to ignore the chilling sensation creeping through her body as Victor stood so close, his smile faint but his eyes full of hidden meaning.

"You look tense," he said softly, his fingers almost touching Vella's cheek before the girl took a step back.

"I'm just surprised," Vella said, her voice striving to sound flat.

Victor raised an eyebrow, as if mocking her. "Surprised that I'm back? Or because you've finally realized you can't escape me?"

Vella's heart beat faster. She couldn't get caught in this game.

"I've forgotten you, Victor."

Victor laughed softly, his expression seeming self-amused. "You really want me to believe that?"

Vella didn't answer. She chose to leave, stepping past Victor. However, before she could get far, Victor caught her wrist. Not too tight, but enough to stop her.

"You'd better get ready, Vella," he whispered close to her ear. "I'll make sure you can never ignore me again."

Vella held her breath, trying to free herself from Victor's grasp. "Let me go."

Victor gave a small smile before finally releasing her.

But before Vella could truly walk away, he managed to whisper, "Welcome back to my life, darling."

---

Vella couldn't stand staying at that party any longer. After exchanging pleasantries with a few guests she didn't even really know, she finally asked her mother for permission to leave early.

"I'll be staying at the hotel tonight," her mother said with a happy smile. "Enjoy the house by yourself tonight, dear."

Vella just nodded. Honestly, she was relieved. She needed space to breathe.

A light rain was falling as Vella stepped into the house. The atmosphere was quiet. Silent.

She turned on the living room light, dropped her bag on the sofa, and walked straight to her bedroom. After changing out of the stuffy party dress, she went into the bathroom, trying to wash away all the burdens on her mind under the stream of warm water.

But the image of Victor kept appearing in her head. His gaze, his words from earlier that night...

"I'll make sure you can never ignore me again."

Vella let out a heavy sigh, quickly dried her hair, and went into the bedroom. She was just about to get into bed when her phone suddenly vibrated on the nightstand.

Unknown number.

She frowned. It was past midnight. Who would call at this hour?

Hesitantly, she slid the green button. "Hello?"

A few seconds of silence. Only soft breathing on the other end.

Vella was about to hang up when the voice sounded.

"You left too early, darling."

Vella froze.

It was Victor's voice. Soft. Calm. But there was something that made her hair stand on end.

"Victor?" her voice rose, a reflex. "How did you get my number?"

Victor laughed softly. The sound sent shivers down Vella's spine.

"I always know what you have, Vella." Then the call disconnected.

Vella stared at her dark phone screen, her chest pounding.

How did he know? Had Victor been following her? Or… had he infiltrated her life deeper than she imagined?

Her mind was filled with fear that was starting to turn into panic.

She gripped her phone tightly, staring into the darkness of the night outside her window.

Biting her lip, she tried to think clearly. This must just be a psychological game. Victor just wanted to scare her. But why did it feel so real?

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

DING-DONG.

Vella jolted.

The doorbell rang.

The sound echoed through the spacious, quiet house, reverberating in the empty halls.

Who would come at this hour?

She glanced at the time on her phone—12:24 AM.

Her hand clenched the phone tightly as the bell rang again. This time, longer.

DING-DONG. DING-DONG.

Vella held her breath.

She strained her ears, trying to hear any sound outside. No footsteps, no sound of a car stopping in front of her house.

DING-DONG.

Her heart beat faster.

She walked slowly towards the front door, passing through the dark hallway. The shadow from the outside light cast a faint silhouette on the marble floor.

Arriving at the door, she stood still. Didn't dare move.

She stared at the peephole. Hesitant.

But before she could see who was outside, her phone vibrated again.

A message from an unknown number:

"Why aren't you opening the door, Vella?"

Her breath caught.

Vella's hands trembled as she slowly backed away. She didn't dare look through the peephole again.

The doorbell didn't ring anymore.

However, in the silence of the night, she could feel something.

Someone was out there. Waiting for her.

And she knew exactly who it was.

Victor.

Vella bit her lip, her heart pounding as she stared at the door in front of her.

She knew this was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

But curiosity and fear mixed into one, making her slowly reach out her hand and turn the doorknob.

As the door opened, Victor stood there.

He was dressed entirely in black, his hair slightly disheveled, and his expression was completely different from the man she met at the party earlier. Cold. Dark. Dangerous.

The drizzle had dampened his shoulders, and his gaze immediately pierced through Vella's eyes, sharp and demanding.

Vella felt her tongue go numb.

"Victor… what are you doing here?"

Victor didn't answer immediately. Suddenly, the man stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.

"Victor! What are you—"

Click.

He closed the door behind him and quickly locked it.

Vella took a step back, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Victor, get out."

Victor didn't move. He just looked around the house, as if assessing every corner, before his gaze finally returned to Vella.

"A big house," Victor murmured softly. "Too big to live in alone."

"You look scared," Victor finally said, his voice deep and calm.

"Of course I'm scared! You can't just barge into my house like this!"

Victor gave a faint smirk. "I never needed permission, Vella."

His hand slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a duplicate key.

Vella's blood ran cold. "Where did you get that?" her voice trembled.

Victor twirled the key on his finger casually. "You should know I always have a key."

Vella's heart pounded; she quickly grabbed her phone from her dress pocket, intending to call someone—but Victor swiftly snatched it and tossed it onto the sofa.

Vella was shocked. She looked up. Instantly, her throat tightened.

Victor looked at her with an indescribable gaze. There was tenderness, but also a darkness lurking behind his eyes.

He stepped closer, forcing Vella further back against the wall.

"Why do you always try to get away from me?" he whispered, his fingers rising to gently touch Vella's hair.

Vella felt her body tremble. She wanted to move away, but something in Victor's gaze held her in place.

Vella knew she had to run. Now.

She gathered her courage, trying to avoid Victor's gaze and move towards the stairs. However, quick as lightning, Victor caught her wrist and pulled her back forcefully.

Vella jolted. "Let me go, Victor!"

But Victor just looked at her with a relaxed expression—as if he was enjoying every bit of panic radiating from Vella's eyes.

"I let you run away once," his voice was deep, full of a dangerous calm. "This time, I won't let you go."

Before Vella could struggle, Victor bent down and lifted her in a bridal carry.

"What are you doing?!" Vella tried to struggle, hitting Victor's shoulder with her fists.

Victor didn't budge an inch. "Taking my wife to where she belongs."

My wife?

Vella shuddered at the term.

Victor's steps were firm as he carried Vella up the stairs, as if he knew this house intimately.

Vella's mind was in chaos. How could Victor know which room was hers?

They had dated, but during their three-year relationship, Vella had never brought him to her family home. Victor had never met her mother, let alone been inside this house.

So... how did he know?

"Victor! Put me down now!" Vella struggled again, but Victor only tightened his hold.

"Stop moving, or I'll drop you," he threatened softly.

Damn.

Vella could only stare wide-eyed as Victor easily pushed open her bedroom door and carried her inside.

The door closed with a soft click.

Vella didn't even have time to say anything before Victor dropped her onto the bed, then pinned her down with his hands on either side of her head.

Vella's breath caught.

Victor was too close.

His gaze was too intense.

"Why is your face so tense, darling?" he whispered softly. "Didn't you miss this?"

Vella turned her face away, trying to avoid the man's gaze. "You're crazy..."

Victor touched her chin, forcing her face back towards his.

"Why did you leave me three years ago?" he asked, his voice deep, cold, and full of tension.

Vella fell silent.

Victor narrowed his eyes. "Say it, Vella."

Vella swallowed, her body tense.

She tried to push against Victor's chest, but the man didn't move an inch.

"You loved me too much… you were too obsessive," Vella finally whispered, admitting something she had tried to forget.

Victor was silent for a moment.

Then, he smiled. A smile Vella couldn't interpret—whether it was angry, satisfied, or worse… anticipating something.

"So you admit it."

Victor's hand moved down Vella's cheek, then to her neck, his fingers touching the pulse beating rapidly.

Vella froze.

"You know, Vella… obsessive people usually never let go of what they have," Victor whispered right into her ear.

---

The Next Morning

As sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, Vella slowly opened her eyes.

Her head felt heavy, her body tired, and she still felt like she was in a real-life nightmare.

But what made her startle was Victor lying beside her, his face only inches from Vella's.

The man was still holding her tightly, as if refusing to let her go even in sleep.

How did this happen?

Vella wanted to get up, but the moment she moved even slightly, Victor's arm tightened.

Victor's eyelids opened, and he looked at her with a gaze full of possession.

"Good morning, darling," he whispered in a deep, morning-hoarse voice.

Vella was trapped.

Vella froze.

She almost forgot how to breathe with Victor pressed so closely against her, his arm still wrapped around her waist as if he had full rights over Vella's body.

Their eyes met.

Victor's sharp eyes looked softer in the morning light, but Vella knew… behind that gaze hid something deeper and more dangerous.

Why was he still here?

Vella immediately pushed against Victor's chest with all her strength.

"Get out of my room," she hissed sharply.

Instead of retreating, Victor just gave a faint smile—a smile that made Vella even more wary.

"What's the problem?" he asked casually. "We just slept, right?"

Yes… slept.

Nothing more.

Vella felt a strange sense of relief, although the fact that Victor had slept beside her all night was still something she couldn't accept.

"I'm not yours anymore, Victor," Vella said firmly, trying to establish boundaries between them.

Victor looked at her for a moment, then suddenly… he leaned forward and gently kissed Vella's cheek.

His lips were warm on Vella's skin.

Vella's eyes widened, her heart beating wildly.

"Victor—!"

The man pulled back slowly, a satisfied expression on his face.

"Of course you're not mine," he said in a tone that sounded like a subtle mockery.

Vella felt angry, but also confused.

Why did Victor always act like this? As if their relationship had never ended. As if Vella still belonged to him.

"I'm serious, Victor," Vella said again, trying to remain calm. "What you did last night… and now… it doesn't mean anything. I broke up with you, and I'm not coming back."

Victor didn't answer immediately.

He just stared at Vella… for a long time.

As if gauging how far the woman's patience would stretch before he finally destroyed her bit by bit.

Then, his lips curved into a very dangerous smile.

"Then…" his voice was low, deep, and sounded full of hidden pleasure.

"…how about we go on a honeymoon too?"

Vella's blood ran cold.

What?!

Victor propped his chin on his hand, enjoying Vella's shocked expression.

"Our parents are on their honeymoon. I thought we could do the same."

"Don't joke, Victor."

"I'm not joking," he replied lightly. "I just thought, if you keep insisting on rejecting me, maybe I should make you remember what it's like to be with me."

Vella swallowed.

She knew Victor never said anything without a reason.

And if the man had an intention… then nothing could stop him.