My Mysterious Husband Is My Stepbrother

Breaking All Ties

After her grandmother, Clarissa, ended the call, Vivian looked at her mother with a mix of curiosity and worry. “Is she coming, Mother?” she asked softly, her voice careful and a little tense. She shifted in her seat, unsure of what to expect.

Clarissa nodded slowly, her sharp eyes sparkling with interest. “Yes. Let’s see who she has married,” she said, her words full of quiet anticipation. She leaned back, her posture relaxed, but her mind was calculating every possible outcome.

“Grandma, I remember the name of her husband,” Seraphina spoke up, her voice carrying a hint of pride and smugness. “I looked him up. He’s not someone important. Every man with that name is ordinary. It looks like she married a nobody.”

“Good,” Clarissa said with a low, satisfied smile. “That makes it much easier for us to take control of the company completely.” Her fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of her chair, as if imagining all the plans she could put into motion.

“Leo will be here too,” Seraphina added, frowning slightly. “I’m curious to see his reaction.”

“Why did you call him here?” Vivian asked, sounding annoyed. “If you want to look proper in front of him, you shouldn’t show him our family problems. It will only make us look weak.”

“Mom,” Seraphina replied, her voice calm but full of cold purpose, “I want him to see how weak the woman he loves really is, and how she has caused us nothing but trouble. Let him witness the truth for himself.”

“Do as you wish,” Clarissa said, leaning back in her chair, a pleased look on her face. She had the air of someone used to getting her way and enjoying it thoroughly.

Meanwhile, Elara Montrose arrived at the Montrose house in a taxi. The tall iron gates rose above her as she stepped inside. The sunlight reflected off the polished metal, glinting like tiny sparks. The servants quickly noticed her, whispering quietly among themselves, but she ignored them all, keeping her face calm and unreadable.

If it weren’t for the memories of her mother in this house, Elara would have avoided it completely. These were the same people who had sent her away to a far-off place to suffer and struggle. After her mother’s death, they had treated her like she didn’t matter, like she was a problem they could ignore. And yet, she had stayed, holding onto the tiny threads of family she remembered, stubborn as ever, refusing to let go of the past completely.

When she entered the living room, she saw her family waiting. Every eye in the room turned toward her. Some were full of curiosity, some of judgment, and some of barely hidden malice.

“Where is your husband?” Clarissa asked sharply, her gaze moving to the door behind Elara. Her voice was cold, demanding, and full of authority.

“He didn’t come,” Elara said calmly, showing no fear or nervousness. She met every gaze in the room with steady confidence.

Clarissa’s cold eyes narrowed, showing her impatience. “Didn’t I tell you to bring him?”

“And didn’t I tell you that I don’t even know him?” Elara replied evenly, her voice quiet but firm. Memories of the night before came rushing back—how they had tried to throw her out into the dark without care or mercy. That memory made her chest tighten and her hands curl slightly. She had had enough of their cruelty.

Clarissa let out a sharp breath, annoyed. “Is he so worthless that you won’t let us see him?”

“You could say that,” Elara said with a small, confident smile, refusing to be pushed into anger.

She didn’t want to argue anymore. No matter what she said, they wouldn’t believe her. Her only plan now was to gather her things and leave as quickly as possible, without giving them the satisfaction of seeing her panic.

“After all you’ve done, you still have no shame,” Clarissa said, standing up, her voice full of scorn. “I sent you away for years to teach you to behave, but you’ve only become worse. It seems you’ve learned nothing.”

Elara’s eyes narrowed. She felt a bold, stubborn energy fill her. “And you only notice now? After two years since I returned from that awful place you sent me?”

Clarissa tapped her cane on the floor, each sound sharp and demanding. “I sent you away to remove your stubbornness, just like your mother’s. Five years, and it seems that was not enough.”

Elara stepped closer, her tall figure casting a shadow over her small grandmother. There was a power between them, inherited from her mother, Helena, a power Clarissa could not control. That was what made Clarissa so angry—she could never dominate what was naturally strong and unbroken.

“Are you threatening me?” Elara asked, her voice strong and challenging. “Are you planning to send me away again?”

Years ago, they had sent her to a poor, dangerous area filled with crime, leaving her completely alone. She had survived through clever thinking, careful planning, and determination, escaping the harsh place and returning stronger, smarter, and unafraid of them.

Clarissa’s eyes flashed with anger. “Do you think I can’t?”

“Try me,” Elara said, staring straight at her, her heart steady and her mind focused.

“Elliot, is this how you let your daughter speak to me?” Clarissa’s voice rang out sharply, turning to her son. “You would have been better off dead with your wife than to see this insolence!”

Elara looked at him, remembering the day she had watched her mother die while he stood by, cold and distant. She had always wondered if he was really her father or just a man taking her mother’s place. Her family had always favored Seraphina, treating Elara as a problem. But she knew her mother had been faithful—there was no doubt about that in her mind.

“After sending me away for years to a rude, harsh place, you expect me to be polite?” Elara asked, laughing coldly. “You should have kept me at home to learn manners, but what could I have learned there? Maybe how to seduce someone else’s man, just like your mistress taught you, and now your daughter is learning too.”

Seraphina’s eyes widened with rage. “How dare you speak about my mother like that?” she shouted, standing up, her fists clenching.

“You missed my point,” Elara said calmly. “I was talking about you too. You are the daughter of a mistress. What else could I expect?”

Seraphina moved toward her, raising her hand to strike, but Elara grabbed it firmly. “Not this time,” she said, pushing Seraphina back. Seraphina fell to the floor, stunned and shocked, her face red with anger and embarrassment.

The family gasped. They had never seen Elara act like this. She was no longer the quiet, obedient girl they were used to. She stood strong, unafraid, and full of control.

While everyone focused on Seraphina, Elara calmly walked to the staircase. She collected her belongings without looking at anyone, her mind fixed on leaving.

A few minutes later, she came down with a small suitcase in hand, her eyes fixed on the door. She ignored their voices calling her.

“Wait!” Clarissa shouted, her voice sharp and urgent.

Elara glanced over her shoulder lazily, only to hear, “Sign these papers first.”

Elara frowned, confused. “What do you want me to sign?” she asked. “If it means I am done with all of you and we become strangers, I will sign.”

“You want to cut all ties?” Clarissa asked, smiling cruelly. “Sign these papers, and it will be done.”

Elara walked to the table and picked up the document. It was a share transfer agreement. Half of the thirty percent of the company she had inherited from her mother was being given to Seraphina. She could not believe their audacity. How could they think she would sign it so easily?

She slammed the file on the table. “No way,” she said, glaring at Clarissa. “You can dream all you want, but I will not sign!”