His Brother's Regret: Chapter One

 Three years.

That’s how long I’ve been the "supportive friend." Three years of standing in the wings of the Sterling family drama, playing the role of Leo’s steady, reliable girlfriend while the real power in the room—the eldest brother—watched me from the shadows. I thought I was making the right choice. I thought I was building a life.

But tonight, at the engagement party that was never supposed to be mine, the masks are finally coming off. The air in the Sterling estate is thick with secrets, and as Lucian’s hand finds the small of my back, I realize that some regrets aren't just mistakes. They’re invitations to burn everything down.

Chapter One 

Sienna

The scent of expensive lilies and vintage champagne is starting to make me nauseous. Or maybe it’s just the sight of Leo. He looks happy—radiant, even—as he tucks a lock of hair behind his fiancée’s ear. It’s a gesture I’ve seen a thousand times, one I once thought belonged to me.

But it never did. Not really. I was just the placeholder, the girl he dated to prove he could be the responsible Sterling son while his older brother ran the world. I was the practice run for the "perfect life" he’s now living with a woman who looks like she was grown in a high-society petri dish.

Every time I swallow a sip of this gin, it feels like I’m drinking liquid glass. It’s sharp, cold, and entirely necessary to get me through the next hour. I should have stayed home. I should have sent a polite card and a set of crystal glasses I couldn't afford and stayed in my apartment with a bottle of cheap wine. But the Sterlings don't take no for an answer, and Leo had looked so damn earnest when he asked me to come.

"You’re doing it again."

The voice is deep, a low vibration that crawls up my spine and settles in the heat of my neck. I don't need to turn around to know who it is. I’ve spent three years memorizing the exact cadence of that voice. It’s a sound that has haunted my dreams since the first night Leo brought me to this house.

"Doing what, Lucian?" I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on the happy couple across the ballroom. I take another sip of my drink, watching the way the light catches on the massive diamond on his fiancée’s hand.

"Self-flagellating."

I finally turn, and the breath hitches in my lungs. No matter how many times I see him, the sheer physical presence of Lucian Sterling acts like a vacuum, sucking the oxygen right out of the room. He is a predator in a bespoke suit. He’s taller than Leo, broader, his shoulders filling out the dark wool of his tuxedo in a way that makes every other man in the room look like a boy playing dress-up. His eyes are a shade of grey so dark they’re almost black in the dim light of the hallway, and right now, they are pinned on me with a terrifying level of focus.

Lucian doesn't smile at parties. He merely endures them, standing in corners like a silent king deciding which of his subjects to exile next.

"I’m not self-flagellating," I lie, my voice remarkably steady despite the way my heart is suddenly hammering against my ribs. "I’m being a supportive friend. It’s an engagement party, Lucian. Try to look less like you’re planning a corporate takeover."

"I’m not interested in the company tonight, Sienna." He steps closer, invading my personal space with the practiced ease of a man who owns everything he touches. The scent of sandalwood and something distinctly him—leather, cold air, and power—wraps around me, far more intoxicating than the gin. "And you’re a terrible liar. You’ve been staring at the exit for twenty minutes. Your fingers are white from gripping that glass, and you haven't blinked once since the toast started."

I feel a flush creep up my chest, burning under the silk of my dress. He notices everything. He always has. While Leo was busy talking about himself, Lucian was always in the periphery, watching me. I used to think it was because he disapproved of me—the girl from the wrong side of the city dating his golden-boy brother. Now, with the way his gaze is tracking the pulse in my throat, I’m starting to realize it was something much more dangerous.

"Maybe I’m just tired," I whisper.

"Then leave." His gaze drops to my mouth, and for a second, the air between us feels like it's about to combust. "Go home, Sienna. Before you do something you’ll regret. Or before I do."

The threat in his voice makes my toes curl inside my heels. "Like what? Toasting the bride?"

I huff a bitter laugh, the sound brittle and sharp, and turn away. I can't stay here. If I stay here, I’m going to scream, or cry, or do exactly what Lucian is suggesting. I head for the one place in this mausoleum of a house that has always felt like a sanctuary. The library.

I can hear the heavy, rhythmic thud of his shoes on the hardwood behind me. He’s following me. My skin is buzzing, every nerve ending on high alert. I should go faster. I should run out the front door and call a car. Instead, I lead him deeper into the house, through the darkened corridors where the party noise becomes a dull, distant hum.

I push through the double mahogany doors of the library and don't stop until I’m deep in the stacks, surrounded by the smell of old paper and dust. The room is vast, two stories of leather-bound books that have been curated for status rather than reading. I set my glass down on a side table with a clink and finally let the mask slip. My hands are shaking so hard I have to tuck them under my arms.

"She makes him happy, you know," I whisper into the silence. My voice sounds small, swallowed by the thousands of pages.

"Leo is an idiot," Lucian’s voice slices through the dark. He’s standing in the doorway, his silhouette blocking out the light from the hall. He reaches back, his eyes never leaving mine, and the soft click of the lock engaging echoes through the room like a gunshot.

My pulse jumps. "Why did you lock the door, Lucian?"

"Because I’m tired of being polite, Sienna." He moves toward me, his movements slow and deliberate, like a wolf closing in on a deer that’s finally stopped running. "And I’m tired of watching you look at a man who was never man enough to keep you."

"That’s a hell of a thing to say about your brother."

"It’s the truth." He stops just inches from me. He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off his chest. He’s a wall of muscle and expensive fabric, and I am trapped between him and a shelf of first editions. "He had the greatest prize this family has ever seen, and he let it go because he was too weak to fight for it. He wanted the easy path. The approved path."

He reaches out, his thumb catching my chin and forcing me to look up at him. The contact is electric. I’ve spent years wondering what his skin would feel like against mine. It’s hot, calloused, and firm.

"You think it’s too late, don't you?" he asks, his voice dropping to a gravelly register that makes my knees weak. "You think because he’s wearing a ring, the Sterling name is closed to you. You think you’re the leftover."

"I am," I breathe, my breath hitching as his other hand comes up to rest on my waist. His palm is huge, spanning the entire side of my ribs. "I’m the ex-girlfriend. The one who didn't make the cut. I’m the mistake, Lucian."

"No." His hand slides from my chin to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. The pressure is firm, possessive. He pulls my head back just an inch, exposing the line of my throat to him. "He was the mistake. I’m the one you should have been looking at. I’m the one who stayed up at night wondering what you tasted like while my brother was fast asleep in the next room, oblivious to what he had."

He leans down, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending a jolt of pure, unadulterated heat through me.

"And I’m done waiting for you to realize it."

His words hit me like a physical blow, stripping away the last of my defenses. I should push him away. I should tell him he’s being delusional, that the alcohol has finally clouded his judgment, but my body is betraying me with every shallow breath. The library, once a place of quiet contemplation, now feels like a pressurized chamber. The air is thick with the scent of old leather and the sharp, masculine spice of Lucian’s skin.

"You don't mean that," I whisper, though the way my voice cracks makes it a lie. "You’ve spent three years ignoring me. You barely even look at me when we’re in the same room."

"I look at you every second I’m in the same room," he counters, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a dark, velvet promise. He shifts his weight, pressing his lower body flush against mine. I can feel the hard line of him through the silk of my dress and the heavy fabric of his trousers. "I ignore you because if I let myself really look at you—if I let myself see the way your eyes darken when you’re pretending to be happy—I wouldn't be able to stop myself from doing this."

He drags his nose along the line of my jaw, his breath hot against my skin. "I watched him waste you, Sienna. I watched him take your light and try to dim it so it wouldn't outshine his own pathetic ego. Every time he made you cry, I wanted to put my fist through a wall. Every time he forgot an anniversary or stayed out late 'working,' I wanted to show you what a real man looks like."

"Lucian, stop," I moan, but my hands find the lapels of his jacket anyway, bunching the expensive wool in my fists. I’m not pushing him away; I’m pulling him closer.

"Make me stop," he dares me. His hand leaves my hair and slides down my back, his fingers tracing the dip of my spine until they reach the small of my back. He presses me harder against him, molding our bodies together until there’s no room left for doubt. "Tell me you don't want this. Tell me you don't feel the way the air caught in your lungs the first time we shook hands. Tell me you haven't been wondering why the 'safe' brother felt so wrong while the 'dangerous' one felt like home."

He’s right. God help me, he’s right. Every time Lucian entered a room, the world shifted on its axis. I’d spent years convincing myself it was just intimidation—that he was just a powerful, cold businessman who made me nervous. But it wasn't nerves. it was recognition.

"It’s too late," I choke out, the words feeling like shards of glass in my throat. "He’s my friend now, Lucian. He’s your brother. The scandal would—"

"I don't give a damn about the scandal." He pulls back just enough to look me in the eye, his expression fierce and uncompromising. "I’ve spent my whole life protecting the Sterling name. I’ve built the empire, I’ve cleaned up Leo’s messes, and I’ve played the part of the dutiful son. I’m done. If the price of having you is burning the family name to the ground, I’ll light the match myself."

My heart is thudding so hard I’m surprised he can't feel it through his ribs. This is the man I’ve been terrified of—the man who doesn't compromise, who doesn't lose. And he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.

"You’re serious," I breathe.

"I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life." His gaze drops to my lips again, and this time, there’s no hesitation. "I told you I was done waiting. Tonight, you aren't the girl who got away. You’re the woman I’m taking."

Before I can respond, his mouth crashes down onto mine. It isn't a gentle kiss. It isn't an ask. It’s a claim. It’s years of hunger and frustration and secret longing pouring out in a single, devastating moment. His tongue sweeps against mine, demanding entrance, and I give it to him gladly, my head spinning as I finally taste the dark, complex flavor of him.

He tastes like smoke and expensive scotch and something primal that speaks directly to the parts of me I’ve tried to keep buried. My hands fly from his lapels to his hair, my fingers tangling in the thick, dark strands as I pull him even closer. I want to be consumed. I want him to leave marks. I want to forget that there’s a party happening on the other side of that door.

Lucian groans into my mouth, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through my entire body. His hands are everywhere now—gripping my waist, sliding up to cup my breasts through the silk, dragging my dress upward until his palms are flat against my thighs. The contact of his skin against mine is like fire, a scorching heat that makes me ache in places I haven't felt in years.

He breaks the kiss, but only to trail a path of fire down my neck to the sensitive spot where my shoulder meets my collarbone. He bites, a sharp nip that makes me gasp, and then soothes it with his tongue.

"You’re mine, Sienna," he growls against my skin. "Not his. Never his. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I sob, my head falling back against the bookshelf. A few volumes shift behind me, falling over with muffled thuds, but I don't care. "Yes, Lucian. Please."

"Please what?" He pulls back, his eyes dark with a hunger that looks almost like pain. He wants me to say it. He wants me to choose this ruin.

"Please... don't stop."

He lets out a harsh, triumphant breath and sweeps his arm across the nearest table, sending a stack of ledgers and a brass lamp crashing to the floor. He lifts me by the waist, my legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, and settles me onto the cold, hard wood of the table.

The contrast between the chilled surface and the heat of his body is staggering. I’m exposed, vulnerable, and completely under his power, and for the first time in my life, I feel exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Lucian stands between my knees, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches for the zipper at the back of my dress. "It’s not too late, Sienna. It’s just beginning."

Come back for another chapter

Author Notes:

Welcome to a brand-new standalone story! His Brother’s Regret was born out of a moment of pure tension that simply wouldn't fit anywhere else. This is a high-heat, dual-POV short story featuring the Sterling brothers—one who didn't know what he had, and one who has been starving for it for years. If you love forbidden tropes, "it was always you" energy, and a hero who is tired of playing the dutiful son, this one is for you.

Copyright © by LS Phoenix

No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Published by LS Phoenix

New Hampshire, USA

https://linktr.ee/authorlsphoenix

First Edition: May 2026

Cover Design by LS Phoenix