The Brother I Was Never Supposed to Want

Chapter 29

The USB drive Ethan had given Ava sat on the nightstand like a live grenade. Ava stared at it for what felt like hours after Nathan had finally fallen asleep beside her. His arm was heavy across her waist, possessive even in rest, but her mind wouldn’t get quiet.

He watched you for years.

The words echoed. She slipped out of bed carefully, pulling on Nathan’s oversized shirt, and padded to the living room. The city lights glittered coldly below the penthouse windows. She plugged the drive into her laptop.

Hundreds of files. Photos of her early street art pieces. Candid shots from gallery openings she barely remembered. Detailed notes on her routines, her favourite coffee shops, and even the foster homes she had bounced between as a teenager. Nathan hadn’t just been interested. He had studied her like a man planning a long-term acquisition.

Tears blurred her vision. Part of her felt violated. Another, darker part felt… seen. Truly seen for the first time in her life.

The sound of footsteps made her look up. Nathan stood in the doorway, shirtless, stitches stark against his skin. His expression was unreadable.

“You looked,” he said quietly.

Ava closed the laptop. “I needed to know if Ethan was lying.”

He crossed the room slowly and crouched in front of her, taking her hands. “I won’t apologize for wanting you. But I swear on Alex’s life, never meant to scare you. I stayed away because I knew my world would destroy you if I rushed it. Then Ethan f****d up, and I couldn’t wait anymore.”

She searched his face. “And the violence? The mafia? Your father choosing Ethan over you?”

Nathan’s jaw clenched. “Richard has always preferred the son he can control. Ethan talks a good game. I don’t. As for the rest…” He pulled her into his lap right there on the couch. “I’ll protect you from all of it. Even if it means burning bridges.”

Their kiss started tender but quickly turned hungry. Nathan lifted her onto the couch, sliding the shirt up her thighs. This time he didn’t rush. He kissed down her body with reverence, tongue and fingers bringing her to the edge twice before he finally entered her. Slow, deep thrusts that made her sob his name. When they came together, it felt like a vow.

---

The next few days blurred into a strange new rhythm.

Nathan threw himself into damage control. Meetings ran late into the night. Ava watched him become the cold, calculating CEO by day and the fiercely protective lover by night. He surprised her with a new studio space in a secure building he owned, floor-to-ceiling windows, the best supplies money could buy, and around-the-clock security.

“You don’t have to give up your art,” he told her one afternoon as she stood in the sunlit room, paint already on her fingers. “I want you to shine, Ava. Not hide.”

Alex visited often. The boy’s laughter filled the space as he “helped” mix colors and told wild stories about school. Watching Nathan with his son, patient, gentle in a way the world never saw, chipped away at Ava’s doubts.

But cracks were forming everywhere.

Richard summoned Nathan to the family estate. Victoria warned Ava beforehand over coffee.

“Be careful, darling. My husband is threatened by anyone who makes Nathan stronger. And you… you make him want things he was never supposed to have.”

The dinner that followed was pure warfare dressed in crystal and silver.

Richard Walker sat at the head of the table like a king, Ethan to his right. Victoria sat beside Nathan, a quiet show of support. Ava felt every eye on her.

“So this is the girl causing all the trouble,” Richard said, swirling his wine. “A street artist. How… quaint.”

Nathan’s hand tightened on her thigh under the table. “Ava is not up for discussion.”

Ethan laughed bitterly. “She should be. You’re risking the entire family name, our legitimate business, for p***y, brother.”

The word landed like a slap. Ava’s cheeks burned, but she lifted her chin. “I’m not here to threaten your empire, Mr. Walker. I’m just trying to live my life.”

Richard’s smile was cold. “Your life is now intertwined with ours. And Nathan’s… extracurricular activities are drawing the wrong kind of attention. Rossi is already sniffing around our warehouses. If they sense weakness...”

“They won’t,” Nathan cut in, voice lethal. “Because I’m handling it.”

The argument escalated. Accusations flew about loyalty, legacy, and control. Victoria finally stood.

“Enough. Nathan has sacrificed more for this family than any of you will ever know. If you force him to choose, you might not like his decision.”

The dinner ended in icy silence. On the ride home, Nathan was quiet, but his hand never left hers.

---

Erica struck next.

Ava was at her new studio when her sister appeared, accompanied by a reporter from a gossip blog.

“Thought you should know the world is watching,” Erica said sweetly, posing for photos. “Nathan Walker’s new mystery woman. Street artist turned mafia princess. The headlines write themselves.”

Ava’s temper snapped. “Get out.”

But the damage was done. By evening, blurry photos of her with Nathan were circulating online. Nothing explicit, but the implication was clear.

Nathan’s reaction was immediate and terrifying. He had the article taken down within hours and made calls that left his voice low and dangerous. When he finally came to her that night, he was a storm.

He took her against the studio wall, paint still on her hands, dress shoved up around her waist. Hard. Possessive. Almost punishing.

“They think they can expose you?” he growled between thrusts. “I’ll bury them all.”

Ava clung to him, meeting every brutal stroke, the mix of fear and desire pushing her over the edge again and again. Afterward, he cleaned the paint from her skin in the shower with surprising tenderness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For dragging you into this.”

“Don’t be,” she replied, kissing the scar on his side. “I chose you.”

---

But the real pressure was building beneath the surface.

Rossi sent a formal request for a sit-down. Nathan’s territory was being squeezed, shipments delayed, allies nervous. He spent long hours in his office, maps and ledgers spread across the desk.

One night, Ava found him there at 3 a.m., whiskey in hand.

“They’re testing me,” he said. “Seeing if I’m distracted. If I have a weakness.”

She climbed into his lap, straddling him in the chair. “Then show them you don’t.”

They made love right there, slow and intense, her riding him while he gripped her hips and whispered filthy praise. For those moments, the empire, the family, the danger all disappeared.

But as dawn approached, Nathan’s phone lit up with another message.

Rossi wasn’t backing down.

And somewhere in the city, Ethan and Erica were still plotting.

Ava curled against Nathan’s chest as he carried her back to bed, but sleep evaded her. The brother she was never supposed to want had claimed her completely.

Now the question was whether she could survive belonging to him.