Claimed by His Stepbrother

Chapter 05-Evelyn

When I got back from my outing, Paul was waiting in the bedroom, his tablet propped on his knee, his expression hard, almost tired. He looked up when I stepped in, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Mi amor," he said, patting the mattress beside him. "There's news. We've been invited to a gala in Paris tomorrow. It's a big deal."

My chest lifted. Paris, A gala. That was our thing and we never missed them. But before the excitement could settle, his smile slipped.

"But..." he sighed, rubbing his temple, "I can't go."

I froze halfway out of my heels. "What do you mean, you can't go? Paul, you've never missed one. Not once."

He tossed the tablet aside with a little too much force. "There's a contract I've been chasing. If I don't lock it down now, I'll lose it. And you know who." His voice carried a bite. He didn't need to say Adrian's name.

I unclipped my earrings slowly, trying not to show my disappointment. "Couldn't it wait just two days?"

"Not this one." He reached for my hand, the edge softening. "I need you to go, Evelyn. Represent us. Look beautiful like you always do. Make them remember who we are."

I pouted without meaning to. "But it won't be the same without you."

He forced a smile, cupping my cheek. "You'll dazzle them. You always do. And once I close this deal, we'll celebrate in Paris-our way."

I nodded, though it didn't feel like enough.

***

The flight was smooth, the one hour-long drive wasn't that smooth. By the time we reached the hotel, my body ached. Camille, my secretary, slipped out of the car with her usual fixed look , already giving orders like she hadn't sat still for hours.

"Three days cleared for you," she said as a bellboy wheeled our bags. "Fittings tomorrow, gala the following night. Interviews pushed to next week. You'll have some air to breathe here."

I gave her a grateful smile. Camille had been with me since the start of Maison Evelyn-what began as perfume lines had grown into couture and jewelry. It was my own world, carved out beside Paul but not under his shadow. Thinking of it comforted me.

The Royal Hotel pulled me in at once. The walls dripped with gold, chandeliers dangled like frozen fireworks, and the ceilings stretched forever. Opulence in every detail.

"This is your first time here?" Camille asked.

"Yes," I murmured. "Paul and I always stayed somewhere else. Never here."

I was already wondering why though.

Later, alone in my suite, the city lights spilled in through the tall windows. Paris glittered, alive, but it only made me feel hollow. Maybe that was why I slipped into a gown, let my hair down, and wandered out, telling myself I just wanted to explore.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. I stepped inside, eyes fixed on my phone. Camille's reminders, Clara snaps to me, Paul's short message, a flood of emails. My reflection flickered in the mirrored walls, gown glowing.

Then a sound which was low and deliberate disrupted my moment. A throat cleared.

I looked up.

Adrian Blackthorne leaned against the wall, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone he clearly wasn't using. His eyes met mine, unflinching.

"Well," he said, his voice deep, laced with amusement. "Nice to see you again, Evelyn."

My pulse tripped. "I..." Words tangled. "I didn't know you'd-"

Before I could finish, the elevator jolted violently, cutting me off. Lights flickered, the box shuddered to a stop. I stumbled in my flats, slipping.

Strong hands caught me, yet again. His hands. One at my waist, the other steadying my arm, pulling me close before I could hit the ground.

Heat surged through me, his touch burning through silk and skin. My hair brushed his chest, and the scent of him wrapped around me.

For a suspended moment, nothing existed but him. The press of his body, his breath grazing my temple, the dangerous closeness of a man I should never want.

The silence of the elevator stretched, too heavy, too charged. My heartbeat thundered loud enough I was sure he could hear.

"Careful," he murmured. "Wouldn't want Paris to start with you on the floor."

I swallowed hard, trying to step back, but my body betrayed me, leaning just slightly into his hold.

Trapped between floors, trapped in his gaze, I didn't know what terrified me more- was it being stuck here with Adrian Blackthorne, or wishing the elevator never moved again?

Chapter 06-Adrian

Evelyn Hartwell was pressed against me, her breath slowing, those hazel eyes snapping up to mine. I didn't let go. Not right away. Again.

God, she was devastating up close. Her lashes trembled, her lips parted slightly, gloss shining under the dim light. She looked like royalty wrapped in silk, but the heat radiating off her skin pulled me somewhere darker, somewhere far from polished elegance.

She has no idea what she does to me.

I let go slowly, dragging my fingers against hers just enough to feel her warmth before stepping back. She smoothed her gown without meeting my eyes, pretending she wasn't shaken. Pretending I hadn't just disturbed her.

Good. Let her pretend. I like that.

"Apologies." I said, voice low, the edge of amusement slipping through. "Paris has a strange way of throwing us together, doesn't it?"

She cleared her throat, clutching her phone like it was armor. "I-I should call for help."

"Already done." I slid my phone from my pocket, tilting the screen so she could see. The message thread to Julian, my PA, was already sent with orders to drag maintenance out of bed if he had to.

We wouldn't be stuck long. But long enough.

The elevator hummed faintly, lights blinking red. Evelyn leaned against the mirrored wall, sighing heavily,shoulders tight, her breathing uneven.

I moved to the opposite side, giving her distance, but I didn't stop watching. My gaze lingered, deliberate. She felt it, I saw the shiver when she tucked her hair back, the sweep of her fingers exposing her neck.

I could have her here. Pinned against this wall, whispering my name until it broke in her throat. Adrian-fuck.

I smothered the thought with a chuckle. "You don't like small spaces?"

Her eyes flashed. "I don't like... this."

"This?" I played dumb.

Her chin lifted. "You."

The word hit like a blow and a gift all at once.

I laughed, unbothered. "Then it's mutual."

Her brows pulled tight. "Mutual?" Confused.

Oh, cute rabbit.

"Yes." I leaned back on the railing, eyes roaming her body with no apology. "You throw me off balance, Evelyn. I don't like being thrown off balance."

She opened her mouth, but nothing came. The pulse hammering at her throat betrayed her more than words could.

The air thickened.

I pushed off the railing, closing the space slowly, unhurried, at a predator's pace. She didn't move, though her back pressed harder into the mirrored glass as I neared.

Close enough to feel her breath warm against my jaw.

"Tell me," I murmured, lowering my voice, "what exactly did Paul say about me before you came?"

Her eyes widened. "I-he-"

"Let me guess." My mouth brushed the air beside her ear. "Don't trust me? Said I was a liar? A pretender?"

She flinched, guilt flickering across her face.

So he did.

I leaned even closer, not touching, my words brushing her skin. "He's not wrong about me. But he's not entirely right either."

Her breath hitched, shaky, pulling me deeper in.

Then the elevator groaned, a harsh clank echoing from above. She was startled. Instinct drove me forward, one hand braced beside her head, my body caging hers.

She stiffened, then melted back against the glass.

"You should step back," she whispered.

"Should..." I repeated, almost laughing. "But do you want me to?" I asked her while holding her gaze.

Her eyes gave the answer her lips refused.

Fuck. This woman.

My gaze dipped to her mouth- looking soft, parted just enough. I could taste her if I wanted. I could ruin her in a single kiss. Make her forget Paul ever existed.

My jaw locked, heat burning low in my gut as I tilted even closer, my lips almost brushing hers without closing the distance.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

The elevator jolted, lights flickering, gears grinding back to life.

I froze, I was definitely a breath away from rewriting everything.

Her lashes lifted, confusion and hunger swirling in her stare.

I let the moment stretch, savoring it, before pulling back with a smile that promised trouble.

I bent close, my mouth grazing her ear. "Not yet," I whispered.

The doors slid open with a cheerful ding.

I straightened, smoothing my shirt, every trace of control snapping back into place. She stood frozen, chest heaving, clutching her phone like a lifeline.

I gestured to the open doors. "After you."

She swept past me, the silk of her gown brushing my leg. She didn't look back, but her silence screamed louder than words.

I waited for a beat, then followed.

Because now I knew, she wanted me.

And whether it was desire, rebellion, or just weakness, I didn't give a damn!

That woman was temptation wrapped in silk. And I'd never been the kind of man who gave in to temptation.

Not this one.