Dangerous Temptation: No Escape From My Brother-In-Law's Obsession

"You're my sister-in-law, right? It's nice finally meeting you. I hope we can get along."

During the lively welcome party, that all-too-familiar voice struck Eleanor Webb without warning, echoing in her ears long after the moment passed.

Everything around her seemed to blur away. Only one person remained clear in her sight.

Jonathan Fletcher.

Two years ago, he had been her boyfriend.

Then everything in her life fell apart overnight. Her father ran off overseas with his mistress and their illegitimate child, and her mother, unable to endure the blow, leapt from a building and was left in a vegetative state.

Faced with crushing medical expenses, Eleanor ended things with Jonathan and agreed to marry Shawn Fletcher, the second son of the Fletcher family, who had fallen into a coma after a car accident, entering a marriage arranged out of necessity.

Back then, she believed she would never cross paths with Jonathan again.

Not once did she expect that he would return as the long-lost eldest son of the Fletcher family.

This entire party had been prepared to welcome him home.

Compared to before, he looked leaner, his features more defined, and there was a cold distance about him that made it clear no one could get close.

"Jonathan, why are you here?"

Eleanor stood rooted in place, unable to react, when a graceful woman stepped forward and slipped her arm through Jonathan's. Her voice carried a soft sweetness, and her cheeks still held a faint blush.

Just moments earlier, the Fletcher family had publicly announced their engagement.

Hannah Benton now stood as Jonathan's fiancée.

That truth sank into Eleanor like a heavy weight, locking her body in place as if she had turned to stone.

"So this is Eleanor? Shawn's wife?" Hannah asked, turning toward her as though noticing her for the first time.

Though her expression faltered for a second, Eleanor forced herself to smile faintly.

"Miss Benton, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm not feeling well, so I'll take my leave."

Giving them a brief nod, Eleanor turned and walked away without waiting for a response.

Not once did she lift her eyes toward Jonathan, and because of that, she never saw the dark, unreadable look in his gaze.

By the time she stepped out of the party venue, all her strength had drained away.

In a daze, she found an empty room and began drinking one glass after another, as if the alcohol might dull the pain clawing through her. As if drowning herself in it might erase every thought of Jonathan.

Each gulp of alcohol scorched her throat, making her cough as tears stung her eyes, yet his image refused to leave her mind. Every memory lingered, from the warmth they once shared to the cold, disdainful look he gave her when everything ended.

Through the haze of alcohol, the door suddenly opened. A tall silhouette appeared, and then moved toward her and pulled her up from where she sat.

Could it be Jonathan?

Without thinking, Eleanor threw her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself against him as she tried to draw in his scent, desperate for something familiar.

As she leaned closer, the grip at her waist tightened, holding her in place.

"Eleanor, you walk into my room without permission, and now you're clinging to me like this. Do you even understand what you're doing?"

His voice brushed against her ear, one she recognized, though it carried a sharp chill. Clutching the fabric of his suit jacket, she lifted her face and moved in to kiss him.

There was no confusion in her mind. She knew what she wanted, and it was only Jonathan.

"You brought this on yourself," he said, his voice strained, each word forced out with tension.

Before she could react, a sharp intensity overtook her. It felt as if her body could not keep up with what was happening.

"Eleanor, did you even look at who I am before you acted like that?"

His breathing grew heavier near her ear. Fingers clamped under her chin, forcing her face upward as pain shot through her.

A faint sound escaped her lips, strained and broken, before her voice gave out completely.

Her strength gave way, and she slumped forward, falling against him as if she had nowhere else to go.

"Jonathan..."

Her thoughts had fallen apart. Only his name escaped her, soft and broken, as though it barely reached the air.

At the sound of it, his movements faltered for just a second.

The hand that had been moving along her back slowed, its touch losing its earlier harshness.

As she gripped his arm, Eleanor's unfocused gaze drifted. In her mind, she wished this man could be Jonathan, yet she knew that couldn't be true.

Back then, she had chosen money over him without hesitation and married into the Fletcher family. Someone like him would only hate her now, so there was no reason he would ever come near her.

A quiet trace of sorrow passed through her eyes, so faint it might have gone unnoticed, yet Jonathan saw it clearly.

"Eleanor, you were never meant for anyone else. You belong to me!"

A faint, chilling laugh slipped from Jonathan as his movements grew faster. His fingers slid to the back of her head, and he pulled her in without hesitation, leaving no space for her to resist.

Eleanor struggled to break free, yet her body refused to obey. His hold kept her locked in place.

Overwhelming sensations rose one after another, swallowing her completely.

As her thoughts blurred and sank, his voice brushed against her ear, sharp and merciless. "Tell me, Eleanor, what does Shawn have that I don't? How am I any less than that cripple?"

Every word cut deep, cold and unforgiving, like a blade striking straight through her chest.

"I'm sorry..."

Tears slipped free without warning, trailing down her face as the same words escaped her lips again and again. "I'm sorry..."

Regret filled her, all because she had sold herself to the Fletcher family back then and stepped into that arranged marriage just to cover her mother's medical costs.

After marrying Shawn, Eleanor had used her medical expertise to bring him out of his coma, yet the damage left behind was too severe. His legs had lost their strength, and even now, he remained trapped in long-term rehabilitation.

His vision had also disappeared, taken by irreversible nerve damage.

Shawn now lived with disabilities that could not be undone.

Even so, a contract signed with Jonathan and Shawn's father, Robert Fletcher, bound her tightly, leaving her no freedom to walk away from Shawn.

For the rest of her life, Eleanor was destined to remain by his side as his wife.

Because of that, Jonathan was someone she could only continue to disappoint.

...

Morning arrived quietly.

Soft sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains, scattering unevenly across the room and casting a hazy glow that felt almost unreal.

When Eleanor opened her eyes, pain lingered through every part of her body.

Turning her head slightly, she froze when her gaze landed on Jonathan lying beside her.

Shock flooded her instantly, her pupils widening as her breathing grew uneven.

How could it possibly be him?

With trembling hands, she pulled back the blanket, only to realize she had nothing on at all.

Fragments from the previous night rushed back without warning, draining every trace of color from her face.

Broken flashes of those intense moments filled her mind. The announcement of his engagement had shaken her, and though she rarely touched alcohol, she had forced herself to drink until her senses slipped away.

At first, it felt like nothing more than a vivid dream. Now, faced with reality, there was no denying it. She had truly spent the night with Jonathan.

Given what they had become to each other, this should have never happened.

For a brief second, Eleanor's thoughts tangled into a mess she could not sort through.

She needed to get out before Jonathan opened his eyes.

Driven by panic, Eleanor shoved the blanket aside and tried to slip off the bed. The moment she moved, an arm circled her from behind and pulled her back.

"Where are you planning to run off to?" he asked, his voice rough from sleep, yet carrying a quiet threat.

There was no doubt in her mind. Jonathan was already awake.

"Mr. Fletcher, I have to go," Eleanor said softly, choosing her words with care as she stressed the distance between them.

As soon as he heard that, a low, mocking laugh escaped him.

"Mr. Fletcher? Funny. You did not sound so distant when you came to my bed last night."

Before she could react, the world tilted. In the next instant, Eleanor found herself pressed beneath him.

Her eyes lifted, only to meet the piercing weight of his gaze.

"What happened last night should not have happened. I... I drank too much..." she stammered.

His blunt remark made heat rush to her face, and her heart pounded out of control. Words failed her for a moment.

"So that is your excuse? You drink, and then you go to just anyone?" Jonathan raised a hand and forced her chin up, his eyes filled with contempt. "Though I suppose it makes sense. Shawn cannot see, and he cannot even stand. Of course he would not be able to satisfy you."

Each sentence struck like a deliberate blow, laced with humiliation.

Clarity rushed back into Eleanor's mind.

How had she let herself forget? Jonathan wasn't here by chance. He had come back with a purpose.

If hurting her was part of it, he wouldn't hesitate for a second.

"I really was drunk last night. Let's just forget it ever happened. Please let me go." Eleanor pressed her palms against his chest, her brows drawn tight as she tilted her chin to avoid his hand, her voice lowered but firm.

As he watched her every move, Jonathan's expression darkened, something unreadable passing through his eyes.

Before either of them could move further, a knock suddenly sounded at the door.

"Jonathan, are you awake? Breakfast's ready. Everyone's waiting for you."

Standing by the door, Lynne Fletcher-Shawn's mother and Jonathan's stepmother-kept her voice low as she spoke.

Eleanor's eyes widened in shock. There was no way she could allow Lynne to see something so absurd.

With all the strength she had, Eleanor pushed Jonathan away and scrambled to find a place to hide. However, the second her feet touched the floor, her legs gave out, and she dropped hard, dragging the bedside lamp down with her.

The lamp hit the floor with a sharp crash and broke into pieces.

"Jonathan? What was that noise? Did something break? Are you okay?"

Concern filled Lynne's voice as her knocking turned faster and more insistent, as though she was ready to force the door open.

Even so, Eleanor understood that Lynne wouldn't step inside. Jonathan had always disliked this stepmother, who rose from being a mistress.

Still, Eleanor didn't expect Jonathan to rise from the bed and head straight for the door.

What was he thinking?

Reacting quickly, Eleanor caught hold of his wrist.

Looking up at him, she pleaded in silence, hoping he wouldn't open it.

Jonathan glanced down at her, and a flicker of cold detachment passed through his eyes. Then he pulled his arm free and kept walking toward the door.

All Eleanor could do was watch as his hand reached for the handle.

The door swung open.

"Jonathan, are you alright? What just happened?"

As soon as the door parted, Lynne spoke again in a worried tone, her expression carefully shaped with concern.

In his mind, Jonathan sneered at her performance. She played the part perfectly.

From the moment he came back, Lynne had been monitoring him like this, and it was impossible to tell if she ever grew tired of pretending.

Leaning against the doorframe, he stood there with an unreadable, distant gaze.

"I accidentally knocked the lamp over. It shattered."

At his words, Lynne leaned slightly to look inside and caught sight of broken glass scattered across the floor through the opening.

Relief crossed her face, and she smiled. "You're still so careless. You're already an adult, yet you don't even know how to look after yourself. If you were injured, your father would be devastated."

A quiet, mocking laugh escaped Jonathan. "He wouldn't care. If anything, he'd prefer I were gone."

That remark nearly broke Lynne's composure, and her smile stiffened for a second. After regaining herself, she continued, "Don't talk like that. There's glass everywhere in there, so let me call someone to clean it."

"That's unnecessary."

Right after replying, he pushed the door shut.

The door nearly smacked Lynne in the face.

For a brief moment, Lynne remained where she was, her smile fixed in place, before she quickly adjusted it back into a gentle expression. "Jonathan, come down to eat when you're done. You shouldn't skip meals. You left the party early last night, so you probably didn't eat enough."

Silence answered her from inside. Only then did Lynne drop the act and make her way downstairs.

Jonathan's biological mother, Vivian Greene, had passed away years ago. Soon after that, Robert brought Lynne and their two children, born outside the marriage, into the Fletcher family.

From that moment forward, Jonathan stopped coming home. He only returned three months ago, and this time, he came back as a shareholder of Fletcher Group. With the shares Vivian left behind, even Robert couldn't interfere with him within the company.

Lynne had no choice but to suppress her frustration and continue pretending.

Now that her own son was disabled, even with Robert favoring him, they still couldn't push Jonathan out.

Everything would only change if Shawn regained his sight and could stand again.

By the time Lynne stepped into the dining room, her soft, pleasant smile had already returned.

"Jonathan just got up. He'll be coming down shortly."

With that, she entered calmly and took her seat.

Seated at the head of the table, Robert scoffed, "He has no sense of respect. He's making me wait for him at the breakfast table."

Lynne simply smiled faintly and stayed quiet.

Nearby, Jenna Fletcher, Lynne's daughter, curled her lips in disdain. "He's never considered us family. He won't even sit down to eat with us."

"Jenna," Lynne said with a warning look.

Only then did Jenna stop talking.

Rising from her seat, Lynne went to the kitchen, prepared a serving of hot breakfast, and passed them to Jenna. "Bring this over to Shawn."

At once, Jenna's face darkened.

"This late already, and Eleanor still hasn't shown up to get his breakfast? Now I'm the one who has to deliver it? She's completely useless as a caregiver."

Ever since Shawn lost his mobility, he had been staying in a smaller house behind the main villa. Eleanor arranged advanced medical equipment there so his condition could be monitored at all times.

Over the past two years, Eleanor had looked after Shawn day in and day out. In Jenna's eyes, she was never a sister-in-law, only someone hired to care for him.

Robert and Lynne had grown accustomed to that attitude, and neither of them found anything inappropriate about Jenna's words.

After all, Eleanor had been the bride Robert had "bought" for Shawn.

"Enough of that. Just take the food over and stop complaining. Make sure he eats," Lynne said.

Jenna understood how much Shawn meant to her mother. Even though irritation lingered, she held her tongue, picked up the insulated container, and walked toward the back building.

As she walked away, she silently cursed Eleanor for neglecting her duties again.

Up on the second floor, after shutting the door, Jonathan turned back, only to realize the bedroom was already empty of Eleanor.

His attention shifted to the window left wide open, and his expression darkened.

She moved more quickly than he expected. Not even fear of falling seemed to stop her.

Dropping down from the second floor, Eleanor landed badly and twisted her ankle. The rose bushes below tore into her hand, and blood seeped out. Even so, she rushed toward the back building, determined not to be seen.

"Eleanor?"

The harder she tried to stay out of sight, the worse things became.

A sharp, taunting voice sounded behind her, and she recognized it instantly without turning.

Closing the distance in a few brisk steps, Jenna stopped right in front of Eleanor and looked her over from head to toe.

"What were you doing? You didn't even bring Shawn his breakfast this morning. Were you out messing around instead? He can't satisfy you, so you couldn't handle it anymore?"

Jenna never acknowledged Eleanor as family, and every word she spoke dripped with mockery and disdain.

Eleanor halted in place and raised her eyes to meet Jenna's.

Her attention landed on the container Jenna carried, and she reached out her hand. "Give it to me. I'll take it to him."

That submissive tone only made Jenna more arrogant.

"Nothing to say for yourself? In my opinion, Shawn should've thrown you out a long time ago," Jenna said with a sneer.

Moving closer, she studied Eleanor's slightly disheveled appearance and the bruises on her body, her eyes narrowing. "You really went off to see another man, didn't you? If you ever betray Shawn, you won't walk away from it."

Since Shawn became crippled, his personality had grown harsh and cruel. Even Jenna, his own sister, was sometimes rebuked, and Eleanor fared far worse.

"If you have time to gossip about me, you should worry about keeping your own affairs hidden before your fiancé from the Dixon family finds out."

Without paying Jenna attention, Eleanor took the container and started walking toward Shawn's room.

Anger flared instantly, and Jenna lunged forward to seize Eleanor's wrist.

"You shameless bitch, how dare you talk to me like that? The Dixon family doesn't matter to me. I have no intention of marrying into them!"

She lifted her hand and swung it toward Eleanor.

Before the strike could land, Eleanor seized her wrist firmly, locking it in place no matter how much Jenna tried to pull free.

"You..." Jenna shook with fury. "Eleanor, let go of me!"

Jonathan had already ruined Eleanor's mood earlier, and now Jenna's attitude only pushed her closer to her limit. Instead of releasing her, she tugged Jenna forward.

Lowering her voice, Eleanor spoke with a slow, husky edge that carried a clear warning. "Jenna, since I'm married into this family, let me remind you of something. Robert is planning to work with the Dixon family, so whether you accept it or not, you're going to marry into that household. Instead of letting your engagement fall apart because of your behavior, you should focus on keeping those men of yours hidden. Otherwise, once Robert loses his temper, you won't be able to handle the consequences."

After saying that, Eleanor shoved her away.

Caught off guard in her heels, Jenna staggered backward several steps before dropping onto a nearby garden bench.

Anger flared up inside her.

She lifted her head, ready to fire back, but the moment her eyes met Eleanor's cold stare, an unexplainable hesitation crept in.

Something about Eleanor felt different, and she couldn't ignore it.

Even so, her pride wouldn't allow her to back down.

Springing up from the bench, she fixed Eleanor with a harsh glare.

"Eleanor, who do you think you are? You're nothing but a purchased bride, someone from a bankrupt family, yet you talk to me like you have any standing here. Just because you married into the Fletcher family doesn't make you my sister-in-law. Stop fooling yourself."

"Whether you like it or not, I'm legally married to Shawn. You don't have to acknowledge me, but as long as there's no divorce, I am your sister-in-law."

"Once Shawn gets better, he'll throw you out sooner or later!"

"I wouldn't mind that at all."

With a brief sideways glance at Jenna, Eleanor turned and walked out of the garden.

After breaking away from Jenna, Eleanor turned the corner and ran straight into Jonathan, who had come downstairs in casual clothes.

She couldn't say a word.

Jonathan really wouldn't let her go. Even after she escaped from his room, he still caught up.

Her eyes swept the area. Luckily, the garden was empty, and Jenna hadn't come after her.

"Mr. Fletcher."

The words felt forced as Eleanor spoke.

Right after addressing him, she moved to walk past.

Yet as she stepped by, his hand shot out and caught her wrist.

"That's not what you called me last night in bed."

His voice sounded relaxed, almost careless, yet it sent her pulse racing uncontrollably.

Instinctively, she checked her surroundings again, only easing up once she was sure no one else was around.

Noticing her unease, Jonathan let out a mocking laugh. "You climbed into my bed, and now you're rushing off to take care of that useless man? You're really something."

"Enough!"

Hearing him humiliate her like that, Eleanor finally snapped.

She knew she had drunk too much last night, and she accepted that mistake.

However, Jonathan had been completely sober, and he could've turned her away.

Now he stood there acting like he had been forced into this, and it only made things worse.

"Jonathan, let's act like nothing happened last night. You wouldn't want trouble with the Fletcher family right after coming back, would you?"

Taking a steady breath, Eleanor tried to keep her voice calm and reason things out.

But the instant she finished speaking, Jonathan's face turned even colder.

His gaze locked onto her with a sharp intensity, and without warning, he bent down, slid an arm beneath her knees, and lifted her into his arms.

"Jonathan!" Eleanor's face went pale as she cried out in shock.