Watch Me Love Your Stepbrother: Rejected, Pregnant , And Claimed

The chief of security knocked once before stepping into the office.

"Sir."

No answer.

He frowned.

Laziel sat behind his desk, one elbow resting on the arm of his chair, his eyes fixed on the live stream playing across his monitor.

The security camera feed from the estate garden.

Mrs. Monroe.

Mireya.

Anastelle.

His boss was watching them tear into each other.

The chief stopped dead in his tracks when Laziel chuckled.

He had never, not once, heard his boss laugh while watching a live feed.

"Sir," the chief began, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Ms. Brenner has left the building."

Laziel didn’t look away from the screen. "I know."

"She... she went straight to the estate, sir. She’s with your wife right now."

"I know," Laziel repeated, his eyes tracking the way Mireya didn’t yield an inch as Valentina stepped closer.

The chief swallowed hard, trying to process the madness. "Should I dispatch a detail to intervene? Mrs. Monroe isn’t exactly known for handling surprises gracefully, and—"

"Intervene?" Laziel cut him off, a faint, dangerous smile touching the corner of his mouth. "Why would I interrupt a masterclass?"

"There." Laziel murmured.

The chief looked at the screen again.

"There... what, sir?"

Laziel finally spoke.

"Most people shrink."

"They apologize."

Another pause.

"They lower their heads."

On the screen, Mireya answered Valentina without taking a single step back.

"But not her.... Stubborn. Irritatingly defensive. She bites back."

The chief looked between the monitor and his employer.

He wasn’t sure if Laziel was complimenting Mireya...

...or evaluating her.

"She refuses to surrender even when she’s already losing," Laziel said.

"It isn’t intelligence."

"It isn’t pride."

"It’s instinct."

His gaze remained fixed on Mireya.

"You can’t teach that."

The chief swallowed.

Laziel finally leaned back.

"Do you know why I bought her apartment?"

"No, sir."

"Because she would’ve run."

"And do you know why I let her leave today?"

The chief slowly shook his head.

"Because some lessons cannot be taught."

"They have to be lived."

His eyes returned to the screen.

"I wanted to see whether she would fold..."

"...or fight."

Laziel’s smile deepened. "I had my answer."

Then Laziel asked quietly, "Tell me something."

The chief straightened immediately.

"Yes, sir."

"What do you see?"

The chief looked at the screen again.

"I see Ms. Brenner."

Laziel shook his head once.

"No."

"I see someone who refuses to be intimidated."

Laziel nodded slowly. "Exactly."

Then he asked the question that made the chief’s stomach tighten.

"Can you picture her carrying the Monroe name?"

The chief’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure whether he’d heard correctly.

"Sir..."

Laziel’s expression had become unreadable again.

"I didn’t ask whether you approved....I asked whether you could picture it."

The chief hesitated.

"May I ask you something, sir?"

Laziel didn’t answer. The chief took that as permission.

"I’ve worked for you for twelve years. You’ve met princesses, heiresses, CEOs, women with names people would kill to marry into." His brows furrowed. "With all due respect, I don’t understand. Why her?"

......

New York

Helix rubbed the bridge of his nose, the pressure behind his eyes refusing to ease. The global board in Milan was blowing up his phone over Laziel’s stunt at St. Vittoria, demanding to know if his older brother had quietly produced a legitimate heir.

His office door opened, and his assistant stepped inside, sliding a tablet across the desk.

"We pulled the public records and social media cross-references, sir. The woman standing beside your brother in those viral photos has been identified."

Helix didn’t bother looking up from his quarterly reports. "And?"

"Her name is Mireya Brenner."

Helix stopped.

The name scraped against a locked-away compartment in his brain. A low itch of recognition.

"Show me the photograph."

The assistant tapped the screen, bringing up a sharp image captured outside the academy.

Helix stared at it.

Mireya looked stunning. Her hair was down instead of its usual messy bun, framing her face and highlighting her striking hazel eyes and natural beauty. Even compared to the high-society women in his circle, she caught the eye instantly.

The air left his lungs.

"Mireya?" Helix whispered.

His assistant blinked. "You know her, sir?"

Helix didn’t answer.

Because the memory came back instantly. His wedding day. The chaos. Mireya standing in front of everyone, furious, throwing a pregnancy test down and calling him names before walking out of his life.

He had noticed the child’s eyes when the first blurry viral photos leaked from Laziel’s estate. He had thought they looked familiar then, just hadn’t known why.

Now...

He looked from Anastelle’s picture to Mireya’s. Then back again.

The resemblance was impossible to ignore.

His pulse slowed.

Four years old.

His jaw clenched.

His wedding. Mireya standing in front of everyone. A pregnancy test hitting the floor. "Now I’m holding the proof of your failure."

He had laughed. Not laughed, exactly—insulted and dismissed her, convinced himself it was another desperate attempt to stop the wedding. Because Mireya wasn’t the first woman to claim she was pregnant, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.

"She currently works for Mr. Laziel Monroe," the assistant continued, oblivious to the storm brewing across Helix’s face.

Helix froze. His fingers curled hard over the edge of his desk.

Laziel?

Of all the people on earth, how did she end up in his brother’s world?

"She also has a child," the assistant added, sliding a second photograph onto the desk. "A little girl."

Helix forced his eyes down to the report.

Name: Anastelle Brenner.

No Monroe.

No father’s name listed.

Anastelle. The child stared straight into the camera lens with dark curls framing her face. And then there were her eyes—a vivid, piercing green.

Silence settled over the office.

"No..."

The word came out before he realized he’d spoken.

He did the math again. Four years. The timing matched.

Impossible.

It had to be. There were millions of people with green eyes. Children resembled their mothers all the time. Coincidences happened.

Didn’t they?

His assistant cleared his throat cautiously. "Sir? Should we look into her background further? If she’s connected to Mr. Laziel—"

"Shut up," Helix cut him off, his voice dangerously low.

He couldn’t look away from the green eyes staring back at him from the screen.

It couldn’t be.

Could it?