CLAIMED BY MY ALPHA STEPBROTHER

CHAPTER 3

ELENA ROSSETTI

The heat is unbearable.

The smell of burning wood and smoke suffocates my lungs.

My eyes burn and tear up, and my skin feels like it's on fire from the proximity of the flames. The fire devours my house, my life, and my family. I run through the narrow hallways, barefoot, feeling the hot wood under my feet, desperate to find my parents and my brother.

“Mom! Dad!”, my voice comes out hoarse, choked by the smoke.

Screams.

I hear my mother’s and brother’s screams, my heart pounding in panic.

Fear consumes me, but I keep running, tripping over scorched rugs, dodging falling furniture that is on fire.

Each step feels impossible, as if the fire has a life of its own and is trying to stop me.

My father suddenly appears. His face is covered in soot, his eyes wide, scared.

“Elena!”, he grabs me by the arms, pulling me against his chest.

“We need to get out of here now!”

I struggle.

“No! Mom and Ethan! They’re inside! I heard them!”, I scream, trying to break free.

He holds my face tightly, forcing me to look into his eyes.

“There’s no time! It’s too late!”

My eyes widen, and my mind refuses to accept it.

No. It can't be. He’s lying.

My heart pounds violently against my chest as I push my father away and run toward the room where I heard the screams.

“Elena, no!”, he shouts behind me, but I’m already at the door.

The flames consume the wood, the furniture, and the curtains.

The heat is suffocating.

And then I see it. I see my brother’s hand through the window, stretched out, trembling, asking for help.

My heart stops. My feet move on their own.

I run to the window and grab his hand, but it’s too late.

The fire engulfs us. The heat burns us. The pain is unbearable. My hands burn, our skin fusing in agony.

“Ethan! Hold on!”, I scream, pulling him with all my strength.

He tries to hold on, but the fire is too strong, too cruel.

Tears run down my face, mixing with the sweat and soot.

My skin burns. The pain is excruciating, but I won’t let go of his hand. I can’t.

“Where is mom?!”, I scream desperately.

Ethan’s eyes shine with terror.

“She... she...”

An explosion.

A part of the ceiling collapses between us.

My body is thrown back, and my hand slips from his.

My brother’s scream echos as he disappears behind the flames. A horrible sound, a final crash. My chest tightens. My heart shatters. No. It can’t be.

“NO!”, I scream, trying to move forward, but strong hands pull me back.

It’s my father.

“We can’t do anything more, Elena! He’s gone! Your mother and brother are gone!”, his voice cracks, but he holds me tightly and drags me away.

I fight, kick, and scream, but he pulls me out of the burning house.

The firelight illuminates the night, tinting the sky with red and orange.

The heat still surrounds me. My ears catch the last screams from inside. Hearing my mother and brother’s screams, I know I will never forget them.

My father holds me tightly as I collapse to the ground, crying uncontrollably. My hands hurt. My heart hurts even more.

The house burns. My family is gone. And all I can do is watch.

I wake with a start, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

The room is bright, but the panic still burns inside me.

My breath is shallow. My skin is cold, sweaty. I place my hand over my heart, trying to calm its frantic beats.

My eyes scan the room until they fixate on my right hand.

My whole body trembles when I see the scar there—the mark left by the fire on that horrible night.

I run my fingers over the rough skin and close my eyes. The pain returns. The guilt returns. The voices echo in my mind.

Mom. Ethan.

I was only 5 years old when my brother died with our mother.

My hands tremble, and my tears fall uncontrollably. Anger rises within me, boiling, suffocating.

“My dad should have saved them…”, I murmur, my voice faltering.

I curl up on the bed, hugging my knees.

The room is silent, but my mind is filled with screams. I close my eyes, trying to push away the images. The fire, the pain, the loss.

Then something catches my attention. A subtle smell of food fills the air.

My eyes slowly move to the table next to the bed.

A breakfast is there. Bread, fruits, a steaming cup of tea. My breath catches in my throat.

Who brought this while I was sleeping?

My mind is still hazy from the dream, but reality begins to seep in. I’m in Darian’s mansion. I look around, as if expecting to see him there, watching me. But I’m alone.

My hand trembles when I pick up the cup. The tea is still warm. Someone has been here recently. Darian?

My heart hammers against my ribs. Did he enter the room while I was sleeping? Did he see me like this, crying in the middle of a nightmare? The thought makes me uncomfortable. It makes me feel vulnerable.

But at the same time…

Why would he leave this here for me? Does he care?

Of course not.

He is a cold man with a heart of ice.

A dress is on the bed.

Another dress. I don’t know when it was placed here, but the sight of the delicate, luxurious fabric makes me shudder. Darian. Was it him who brought this? Does he want me to wear it?

My hands hesitate for a moment before picking it up.

The fabric slips between my fingers, cold and smooth. It’s inevitable. I get dressed, adjusting the details in the mirror. The feeling of being watched bothers me, but when I look around, there’s no one. Just the silence of the mansion surrounding me.

I walk to the window.

Outside, the island looks as beautiful as it is dangerous.

Subtle lights illuminate the perimeter, and figures dressed in black patrol the property. I could never escape like this. My last attempt was a failure. Now, security has been reinforced. I’m trapped.

I swallow hard and take a deep breath before approaching the door.

My fingers touch the doorknob, ready for the frustration, but to my surprise, it moves without resistance.

It’s not locked.

This shocks me. Darian always kept me confined. But now he lets me wander? Is this a mistake on his part or a trap?

My breath is heavy as I take the first step out of the room.

The hallways are wide, dark, and luxurious. The antique furniture, thick rugs, and sparkling chandeliers create an opulent and mysterious atmosphere. Where is he?

The silence is unsettling. I walk slowly, feeling my heart pound with each step. There is no sign of Darian. No shadow, no sound. Just the echo of my own footsteps against the marble floor.

My gaze fixes on a half-open door at the end of the hall.

Something pulls me there. A strange intuition, an impulse I can’t control. I approach and, without thinking much, step inside.

The room is an office.

Shelves full of books line the walls, and a dark, unused fireplace dominates one side of the room.

In the center, an imposing dark wood desk. Papers organized, a computer on standby. But what really catches my attention is the partially open drawer. Something inside me tells me that there are answers there.

My fingers tremble as I pull the drawer open.

And then I see it.

Photos.

A folder with my name.

Documents. Information about me. About my whole life.

My breath becomes uneven as I flip through the contents.

Dates, places, events… He knows everything. Every detail. My school, my friends, my habits. It’s terrifying. Invasive.

And then my eyes find something else. A photo.

I’m there, hugging my father.

My fingers clutch the image, and a lump forms in my throat.

Then, another photo. One from when I was a child.

My parents. My dead brother. His smile frozen in time, innocent, distant, and unreachable.

Why? Why does Darian have this?

The shock paralyzes me, but my mind begins to connect the dots.

There’s more information about my father than about me. Pages and pages of notes, reports, and images. My father is the real target.

My fingers tighten around the paper, my heart pounding. Darian didn’t bring me here by accident. He wants something. He wants revenge.

Before I can continue reading, a loud bang makes me jump.

The door slams shut with force. My body stiffens.

I slowly look up and see Darian standing there. He watches me, his golden eyes glowing in the dark like a predator’s.

The silence stretches for an agonizing moment.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, His voice is low but full of contained fury.

I freeze. The folder is still in my hands. I know he saw. I know he knows I discovered.

He steps forward, and my whole body reacts, my heart racing. His presence dominates the room, suffocating and intense.

“I asked what the hell you’re doing here. Didn’t you hear me?”, his voice is even harsher.

I swallow hard and lift my chin, trying to regain some control.

“What are you going to do with my father?”, my voice comes out stronger than I expected, but the tension in my throat betrays me.

A cruel smile forms on his lips. Slowly, he approaches, like a wolf circling its prey.

“You finally understand, don’t you?”, he stops in front of me, leaning slightly.

“You weren’t my target. It was always him. You’re just a means for me to get what I want, baby…”

My fingers close around the photos, the paper crumpling between my hands.

“What did he do for you to want this?”, I ask, my voice trembling with anger.

Darian laughs quietly, without humor.

“Do you really want to know?”, his eyes gleam darkly.

“Your father isn’t the man you think he is, Elena.”

My stomach churns.

“You’re lying.”, my voice cracks.

He moves closer, until his presence becomes overwhelming. His hand rises and grabs my chin, forcing me to look into his hypnotic eyes.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea everything he’s done..”, His voice is a dangerous whisper.

My mind screams for me to back off, to run. But my legs are glued to the ground.

“You don’t understand anything about him. About what he did to me.”

The intensity in his eyes burns me more than any flame.

“Then tell me!”, I shout, feeling the frustration overflow.

“Tell me what he did! This isn’t fair, your problem is with him, not me. Let me go.”

For a moment, Darian stares at me, as if considering how far he should go. Then, his cruel smile fades.

“Your lovely father destroyed my life, and I will do the same to him by using what he loves most in the world. You, Elena…”

“Tell me what he did to deserve this...”, I whisper for the last time.

“Not now. But soon…”, he slides his fingers across my face before pulling back.

“Soon, you’ll see for yourself.”

My chest rises and falls quickly. My heart still pounds in my chest.

I can’t believe him, but Darian seems like a very determined man, and I know he won’t stop.

“What are you going to do with me?”, I ask, stepping back, feeling the table behind me.

Darian diverts his eyes from my face to observe my body before bringing his mouth close to my ear.

“What do you think I’m going to do with you, baby?”

I close my eyes and my fists at the same time, unable to pull away. I feel his body against mine.

“You’re a monster...”, I whisper, opening my eyes and finding his golden pupils very close to my face.

He’s not human, either. I can feel it.

“And what does a monster like me do with girls like you, Elena?”

I don’t answer.

“You’re not going to touch me...”, I say angrily, and he smiles more and laughs.

“I don’t need to force anything, baby. I always get what I want.”

His mouth is very close to mine, and then he brings his lips to my ear once more.

“Your father isn’t who you think he is, and at some point, you’ll realize he’s not as innocent as you imagine. People are cruel, Elena…”

And then he pulls away, letting me breathe again.

I bite my lips, stepping back and walking toward the door, feeling my heart pounding hard inside my chest.

“The mansion is free for you to explore, but know that you won’t leave the island until I get what I want.”

I leave before I hear more.