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.

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