My CEO brother wants me

Lucien sat by the window of the long black luxury sedan, his arm resting against the door as he stared outside. The city moved past them in a blur of lights and glass buildings, but he wasn’t really looking at any of it.

Across from him, his mother kept glancing his way.

“Lucien,” she said gently, “about what happened earlier…”

He didn’t turn.

“I told you already,” he said. “I couldn’t control it.”

Seraphina sighed softly and leaned back in her seat.

The outburst that morning had been bad. A shattered vase. Raised voices. One of the house staff had to be sent home in tears.

It wasn’t the first time, and they weren't sure it would be the last.

His father, Alaric, sat beside him, calm as always, hands resting on his cane.

“Your therapist made another recommendation,” Alaric said.

Lucien didn’t react, but he was listening.

“He thinks it might help if we adopted a child,” Alaric continued. “A young girl. Someone who could stay close to you. Someone you could bond with.”

That got Lucien’s attention. He looked over, then said, “No one can replace Maya.”

The car went quiet immediately.

Seraphina’s expression softened at the name.

“We know that,” she said gently. “No one is trying to replace her.”

Maya was his younger sister, gone barely a year. The house hasn't felt the same since.

“This isn’t about replacing her,” Seraphina went on. “It’s about helping you heal. If you want to get better, you have to be open to trying what’s recommended.”

Lucien looked back out the window. He didn’t reply again.

The car eventually slowed as they got to a tall building, Clayview Orphanage. One of the many places the Hale family funded.

The manager, a middle-aged woman hurried forward as they stepped out.

“Mr. Hale, Mrs. Hale, welcome,” she said warmly. “It’s an honor to have you here.”

Seraphina smiled politely. “Thank you. We’re hoping to meet some of the children today.”

“Of course,” the manager said quickly. “Please, come in.”

Lucien followed behind his parents, uninterested. He didn’t want a sister. He didn’t want anyone trying to fill Maya’s space.

“We’re looking to adopt a young girl,” Seraphina said as they walked. “Around five or six.”

“That's awesome. We have several children in that age group,” the manager beemed. “There’s a class session currently ongoing.”

They entered a classroom.

Children sat around small desks while a teacher wrote on the board. Boys and girls both. Some were curious, some shy while some seemed to be used to visitors to react at all.

The manager smiled. “You can take your time.”

Seraphina glanced at Lucien. “Do any of them catch your eye?”

He shook his head immediately. “No.”

As he turned to leave, a small body ran straight into him.

Books and pencils scattered across the floor. The little girl gasped, stumbling back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said quickly, bowing her head over and over.

Lucien stared down at her. She had wide doe eyes, startled but she wasn't crying. Her hair was packed into two small pigtails, slightly messy like she had done them herself.

She kept apologizing as she gathered her things.

He didn’t speak, didn’t move. He just watched her.

She picked up her books and hurried to her seat without looking up again.

Seraphina and Alaric exchanged a glance behind him. Seraphina then smiled and turned to the manager.

“We’d like to proceed with her.”

The manager nodded quickly. “Of course, Mrs. Hale.”

Only then did Lucien speak. “I don’t want her as my sister.”

They both looked at him. Seraphina frowned. “But you seemed to like her.”

Lucien’s eyes were still on the girl across the room. She was calm, writing like nothing had happened.

He shook his head. “I want to marry her.”

The manager blinked in shock, then laughed awkwardly, assuming it was childish talk.

Seraphina sighed softly. “Lucien.”

“I will marry her,” he repeated, smug certainty in his young voice. “Don't adopt her.”

Alaric placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re fourteen,” he said calmly.

Lucien didn’t look away from the girl. “Doesn’t matter.”

Seraphina shook her head. “Lucien, how else would she live with us? We’d have to adopt her formally.”

Alaric nodded. “She can’t come home with us otherwise.”

Lucien looked at them both.

“Then adopt her,” he said. “Just don’t give her our name.”

Seraphina’s brows pulled together. “Lucien… she’ll feel left out if we do that.”

He shook his head once. “I won’t let her.”

They both paused at that.

“She won’t feel left out,” he added. “I’ll make sure of it.”

To his parents, it sounded like childish attachment, a grieving boy redirecting emotion after loss.

The manager cleared her throat politely. “Shall we begin the paperwork?”