My Ex BF Became an Obsessive Stepbrother

"Victor, I want to break up." Vella's statement was like a bomb, shattering the man's heart into broken pieces.

"What?" Shock washed over Victor, his expression stunned. His face instantly turned pale.

"We've been together for three years, and you want to break up? Don't joke around! It's not April Fools!"

Victor couldn't accept it calmly. Anger took over his face, which hardened as he held back his emotions.

"I'm sorry, Victor. I don't think I can be with you anymore." Vella's firm tone proved her words were serious.

"But, why?" His eyes showed profound disappointment. Victor asked, his voice almost choked.

"I'm tired of you. I hope you'll be okay. Goodbye, Victor." Vella turned and walked away. Her retreating steps seemed to take Victor's life force with them.

Victor collapsed weakly onto the ground.

Ironically, today was the day Victor had prepared to kneel before Vella with love and offer her a ring.

But now, the velvet box remained in his pocket, never shown to the girl.

Anger, disappointment—these two emotions merging in his heart had now created hatred in Victor's mind. His trembling hands clenched tightly.

"I won't let you go so easily, Vella," he muttered with a determined glint in his eyes.

Then he called someone and gave an order. "Make them get married immediately!"

He hung up the phone directly. "Vella, just wait, I won't let you leave me forever."

***

One year later.

Vella stood in a corner of the magnificent ballroom, her fingers clutching a glass of champagne she hadn't even sipped. The light from the crystal chandelier overhead reflected opulence throughout the room, gleaming off expensive gowns and tailored suits worn by the guests. The scent of red wine and expensive perfume mingled in the air, creating an exclusive atmosphere that should have impressed her—but instead felt suffocating.

Her mother's wedding was not an event she had looked forward to. This wasn't a warm family celebration, but a showcase for socialites and entertainment industry elites. The guests weren't just relatives, but investors, executives from major corporations, and faces frequently seen in fashion magazines and on screen.

At a nearby table, a famous actress laughed gracefully, swirling her wine glass while conversing with a producer. Elsewhere, an international model was posing for photographers from prominent media outlets. Every corner of the room was filled with business conversations veiled in small talk, overly perfect smiles, and assessing glances that made Vella feel like an outsider.

She glanced towards the newlyweds—her mother, in an elegant wedding dress, and the man who was now her stepfather. Her new stepfather was a successful businessman, a figure she had only heard about in the news. Vella didn't really know him, just as she felt increasingly distant from her mother.

As a waiter passed by offering a tray of drinks, Vella snapped out of her reverie. She sighed and took a slow sip of champagne, trying to ignore the strange feeling weighing on her chest. But before she could truly