Marked Claimed By My Step brothers

Prologue

The walls of the house had always weighed heavily on the nerves with their excessive luxury, pretentious grandeur, and—let’s be honest—a noticeable layer of dust. Makar had always preferred solitude, but with age it had begun to resemble an illness rather than a conscious choice. He could have hired at least a housekeeper, yet the only staff member left was an elderly cook who no longer had the strength to keep the place in order. After the death of his best friend, the old man had completely lost his will, as if he were simply waiting for this meaningless life to come to an end.

The brothers knew perfectly well why their grandfather had summoned them today, but the strangeness began the moment they realized that their uncle—who, like them, had every right to the inheritance—was nowhere to be seen. Only the two of them, Makar himself, and the notary were present.

“Grandfather, why did you call us here so early?” Stas asked, dropping heavily into the armchair opposite the bed. He had clearly drunk far too much the night before and was now suffering from a brutal hangover. At that moment, he would have preferred to be anywhere but in this room. Stanislav had long since accepted that his older brother would inherit everything and might possibly share it with their uncle. Why he himself had been summoned, he honestly didn’t understand.

Vlad stopped beside his younger brother and, in his usual manner, swept the room with a stern, assessing gaze.

The old man, who had been quietly speaking with the notary, broke off and looked at his grandsons. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and his eyes closed briefly. Makar had always taken his time before making important decisions, just as he was doing now, so no one dared interrupt him.

But the silence stretched on for too long, and finally it was broken by Vlad’s voice.

“I understand you have plenty of free time, but I have a contract signing that can’t wait.”

The elderly man opened his pale eyes and finally spoke.

“Your contracts can wait.” The words came out harsh and loud, yet they made no impression on the grandsons. Makar couldn’t understand where he had gone wrong in raising them. Perhaps their parents would have managed better, but they had died many years ago, leaving two boys in his care. He had genuinely loved those rascals, yet somehow everything had spiraled out of control. This situation had to change.

“You both know perfectly well why I called you here.”

“Then why call us at all? We already know who gets what,” Stas groaned, clutching his head.

“Still partying, Stas?” the old man chuckled with a faint smile. “And you, Vlad, have turned into a soulless machine. I can’t leave my inheritance to a pair of idiots like you. Business is a serious matter. Logic and brains alone won’t take you far—you need passion.”

“You’re not seriously saying you’re leaving everything to Uncle Sergey?” Vlad scoffed, stepping away from his brother with a smug expression. The heavy smell of alcohol coming from Stas made his head spin and killed any desire to listen to the will. “He’ll sink the ship before it even leaves the dock.”

“I have no other choice. Either you straighten yourselves out, or the entire inheritance goes to my second son.”

“And how exactly are we supposed to do that?” Vlad tensed, sensing the iron resolve in his grandfather’s voice. He knew all too well that once the old man made up his mind, there was no changing it.

“Throughout history, there has been only one way to deal with men.” Makar smiled mysteriously and glanced at the notary, who was settling at the writing desk. “Long ago, over a glass of strong liquor with my best friend, we dreamed of uniting our families—and our businesses…”

“You’re starting that again, old man?” Stas laughed, glancing at his brother, who had gone pale. They both knew exactly where Makar was headed.

“Don’t interrupt me, you brat!” the old man snapped. “God help me, what ungrateful grandsons I have. In short, we both had sons, so uniting the families didn’t work out back then. But now everything has changed. Albert’s granddaughter has grown up—a real beauty…”

A loud, ringing laugh rolled through the room, cutting him off once again. Stas struggled to pull himself together and finally stopped laughing.

“Grandfather, you have a very strange idea of beauty. Nadya is anything but beautiful. She’s a bespectacled goblin, not a girl. You’re condemning Vlad to a lifetime of misery.”