All Chapters of Claimed By My Ex-husband's Brother.: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Selene's POV I wanted tonight to be special. A soft smile played on my lips as I lit the last candle in the dining. The aroma of roasted meat and creamy mashed potatoes filled the air, mixing with the subtle fragrance of the deep red roses I had picked out just for him. Adrian had been so distant lately. Always working late, always coming home exhausted, barely sparing me a glance. But tonight was supposed to remind him of us—of what we had built together, of the love we had promised each other five years ago. I smoothed my hands over the black lace dress hugging my figure, excitement bubbling in my chest. He’s going to love this. The clock on the wall read 8:47 PM. He was late. Again. My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to stay positive. He’s probably just caught up at work. I picked up my phone, dialing his number. It rang once. Twice. Then went straight to voicemail. A frown tugged at my lips. I tried again. Same thing. A strange feeling crawled up my spine,

Selene The first thing I noticed was the silence. No honking cars. No voices. Just the soft rustle of linen against my skin and the faint hum of the air conditioning. The second thing was the headache. A sharp, pulsing pain at my temples, the kind that screamed of too much alcohol and too many regrets. I groaned, forcing my heavy eyelids open. The room was bright, the morning light spilling through sheer curtains that fluttered slightly from the central air. Then, realization slammed into me like a freight train. This wasn’t my bedroom. My breath caught in my throat. I shot up, clutching the silk sheets to my chest. The room was stunning modern, sleek, and insanely expensive. A penthouse suite. I turned my head and found the other side of the bed empty. For a moment, I sat there, heart pounding, trying to put the pieces together. Last night. At the bar. The whiskey. The man with the intense eyes and the quiet confidence. Oh, God. I had slept with a stranger.

Selene~ I stared at him, my mind refusing to process everything all at once. Dominic’s expression remained unreadable, as if he had just proposed a business deal rather than something that would alter the course of my entire life. I let out a shaky laugh, disbelief creeping into my voice. "You must be out of your mind." Dominic didn’t flinch. "On the contrary, Selene. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life." I shook my head, stepping back, needing distance. "Why? Why would you even suggest something like this?" Dominic exhaled slowly, as if he had expected my reaction. His fingers grazed the rim of his whiskey glass before he set it down on the bar with a soft clink. "I need an heir." I blinked. "And?" His sharp gaze locked onto mine. "My father has a legacy—a multi-billion-dollar empire that he intended for me to inherit. But there’s a catch. The board of directors refuses to recognize me as the rightful successor unless I prove I have a stable future.

Selene~ I sat on the edge of the bed in a hotel I had arrived moments later, staring at my phone. The ten million dollars still stared back at me, bold black numbers that felt obscene. I’d left the mansion, left my daughter, left Dominic… but I couldn’t seem to leave this feeling behind. Was it guilt? Grief? Or just the cruel ache of separation? I didn’t know anymore. I wiped at my face quickly. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. I looked around the room, all beige walls and sterile furniture. Clean. Empty. Impersonal. Which was perfect. I didn’t want anything reminding me of what I’d just walked away from. Not the way Dominic’s voice had cracked when he asked if I was sure. Not the feel of Ariana’s soft curls beneath my chin when I held her for the last time this morning. And definitely not the way my heart had twisted when Dominic said it was never fake for him. I got up and walked over to the mirror, the hotel slippers slapping softly against the tiled floor.

Selene POV. The office was white. Not cream, not ivory—white. The walls, the blinds, the ceiling tiles. There was nothing warm or inviting about it. It was sterile, professional, and smelled faintly of rubbing alcohol. I felt small in it. Especially when I had walked in and saw him. Dominic. He was seated behind the sleek glass desk, a tablet in hand, flipping through what I assumed was my resume or application. His expression was unreadable, lips set in a firm line, brows slightly furrowed. He looked up, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. “Miss Stephens,” he said finally, tone clipped and professional, like he was speaking to any other applicant. “Please, have a seat.” I hesitated before sitting across from him, my heart knocking against my chest. The last time I saw him, I walked out of his house with a baby in his arms and ten million dollars in my account. And now… he was interviewing me? He tapped the screen. “You majored in pre-medical studies. You graduated top of you