Claimed By His Elder Brother

My Darling Arabella, I must capture you so I can show you how much I worship you, how badly I crave you, how my fingertips burn to touch you.

The thought was no longer a thought; it became a demand. 

Turning the once charming billionaire, William Grayson, into a wild, crazy mess.

“You should be mine, not his. Why don’t you fucking understand that?”

His obsession was becoming dangerous, uncontrollable. Her heart, her body, her soul- all must bear his name.

…Let him, her, and everyone be shattered by the intensity of his obsession. He no longer cares. This is the path he had chosen.

“William, please. I don’t want to hear your excuses! If you won’t come this week, I won’t walk down the aisle!” 

A demanding resonance came from his beloved sister, Helena, whose wishes he had never rejected and won’t this time either.

“If my princess is ordering then how can I object? You will find me home this week, Helena,” 

A low, husky, chuckle escaped the thirty years old handsome man’s lips.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” 

“Turn on your video, I want to see you. You don't sound good.”

“I am with someone, Helena, I can’t,” He lied, proficiently acting sheepish.

“Oh, I didn’t know. Sorry for disturbing you, enjoy your time. We will talk later,” She giggled.

Making an assumption under the label of a ‘date’, bringing a disappointing smile on his face.

“Hmm. Take care. Bye,” 

After lifting her spirits, he cut the call, throwing his phone away. 

In his luxurious apartment, he was sitting at his personal bar, black hair scattered, flowing when he hung his head low.

“Of course I will come… I have to… I must.”

Repeating his words shakily, how could he possibly display the messed up state, revealing the raspiness in his tone, or the redness on his face.

“I have promised after all.”

The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled upward roughly, three buttons opened, revealing his toned and muscular chest wearing a black formal pants to complete his eye-catching attire.

“But, how can I ever tell you? Returning isn’t the problem,”

Panting, his grip on the alcohol’s glass tightened.

“Facing her is.” 

His lips quivered, finishing another shot mindlessly.

And in that drunk state- to reduce his ache- he rested his head over the counter.

A beautiful smile eventually spread across his lips while remembering the moment that ruined his life. 

…Back when he was twenty-eight, he became the businessman of the year, a party was held only to celebrate his unbelievable success.

It was his victory, his success and a perfect moment and change to settle down, to confess and be all hers.

He searched for her, clutching the ring in his hand, The merest thought of saying ‘Will you marry me?’ made him grin unstoppably…

But Luke had gotten there first.

His world fell apart when he was on his knees, offering her a rose. Creating an exquisite moment between those two that crushed his heart.

Tears brimming in her exquisite eyes, Arabella grinned upon hearing Luke’s next words.

“Will you be my girlfriend, Arabella?”

She beamed, hugging him, “Of course, Luke! I would love to!” 

His eyes widened in horror, praying for it to be a nightmare but it was not. The ring in his pocket was left unattended, the rose in his hand fell and was smeared under his own feet. 

‘How could you get into a relationship with him when ‘I’ am here?’

And carrying the weight of unspoken words, he walked away agonizingly where everyone was eagerly waiting for him.

“So, what’s the big news?” Helena beamed. 

He paused, she also came with her 'new boyfriend', inducing a pain he had never experienced before. 

At that moment, he knew what he must do.

“After my success in America, I have set a new target goal, I am shifting to England!” 

He prioritized the peace of his mind and left for good…

Still, after two years, he can't move on. In fact, things had gotten worse. 

He dies with every breath. He started needing her as the only string to keep him sane.

If he couldn't have her, there would be nothing left of William Grayson to be.

“Fuck.” 

Refusing to let go of the drink in his hands, he found himself back to his lonely apartment and entered his room.

The second he stepped in, his eyes fell on the large picture hanging on the wall. Her Picture.

On her eighteenth birthday, her twinkling gray eyes were lowered shyly, tugging her black hair behind her ear, to him, the most angelic sight he could possibly witness.

She didn’t even know he took this picture of her. 

Smiling, he approached her, tracing his fingers on the frame, over her body, desperately, bringing a hysterical glow on his face.

“How can I ever place what I feel for you in words, Bella?” 

His lips pressed against the cold frame, kissing her picture, imagining he was kissing her.

“And even if I do will-” He chuckled breathlessly, kissing her again, “-Will you understand?” 

After satisfying his lips with an imaginary kiss, he rested his forehead against the frame, tracing his fingers on the shoulder.

“Oh? What am I saying? No, you won’t… You never will… Never,” 

In a heartbeat, all of his fondness blazed to ashes. His mind lost its senses as he threw the glass away outrageously, shattering it to pieces.

“BECAUSE YOU FUCKING LOVE HIM!” 

He growled breathlessly, “Him, him and only him existed in you,” 

Clutching his heart to express his anguish, he fell on his knees, gaze softening as he whispered wretchedly.

“And you, you and only you have existed in me, Arabella.” 

Lowering his head, he punched the ground repeatedly until it made his knuckles bleed to which he resisted. Pressing his teeth, he sniffed, “But, but, but–” 

Refusing to shed a tear, he flashed a burning, passionate glance at the beautiful picture, at the one his soul desires endlessly. 

"I am coming home, Arabella," Panting, consumed by madness. A vile smirk spread across his lips, declaring his dark intentions.

"And this time, I am not leaving without what’s mine, even if it kills me,”