

All the Brayton Brothers Want Me
Passion Exclusive

Romance


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Dear Diary,I was just taking a walk. Clearing my head. Then Alec Brayton grabbed my hand, pulled me close, and kissed me like we'd been in love for years. Then he whispered, "Play along." Turns out, the Brayton brothers are competing for their grandfather's empire. The first to find true love gets the entire business. Alec needed a girlfriend, fast. And now, that's me. Brandon, his cocky playboy brother, keeps asking what it would take for me to switch sides. Callum, the quiet, dangerous one, told me to leave before I regret it. And Genevieve, Alec's gorgeous, ruthless ex, is digging for proof that I'm a fraud.Now Henry Brayton-the man who holds their fate in his hands-wants to meet me. He's sharp, brutal, and impossible to fool. The whole family is watching, waiting for me to slip.And Alec? He's not pretending anymore. Not with the way he touches me. Not with the way he looks at me.I should run. But what if I don't want to? - Ivy
Chapter 1
Mar 21, 2025
Diary Entry:
Date: September 2nd
Time: 11:45 PM
Dear Diary,
I thought moving here would be the worst part. I was wrong.
Tonight, Alec Brayton—who basically owns this town—kissed me. Not a sweet, romantic kiss. No, this was a “you’re going to help me or else” kiss.
His family runs everything. My dad’s job depends on them. And now, I’m his fake girlfriend.
I don’t know what’s worse—the fact that I have no choice… or the fact that, for a second, I liked it.
-Ivy
The streets of Ashbourne are eerily perfect—manicured lawns, spotless sidewalks, houses so big they could have their own zip codes. It feels like the set of a movie where nothing bad ever happens. But Ivy knows better.
She pulls her hoodie tighter around herself, walking off the frustration of yet another conversation with her dad that left her stomach in knots.
"This job is everything," he had said at dinner, his voice quiet but desperate. Ivy had barely eaten, her appetite gone as he sat there, hunched over his plate like a man carrying something too heavy. "We can’t mess this up, Ivy. Not after everything."
She had nodded because what else could she do? She remembered too well the months spent scraping together rent money, watching her mother’s face grow tighter with each overdue notice. The for-sale sign staked into the front lawn of the only home she had ever known. The way her dad looked when he came back from the casino that last time—ashen, defeated, the weight of every lost dollar sinking into his bones.
So she had swallowed her frustration, told him it would be fine, and now here she was, pacing the eerily quiet streets of the wealthiest neighborhood in town, trying to breathe.
A hand grabbed her wrist.
She barely had time to gasp before she was yanked off the path and shoved against a thick hedge, leaves scratching at the back of her neck.
“Don’t scream.”
The voice was low, calm, a quiet command that made her entire body lock up before she even saw who it was.
Alec Brayton.
Tall, sharp-jawed, dressed in a black suit that probably cost more than her dad’s entire salary. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a brief, disorienting moment, she thought he looked almost amused.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed, trying to yank free.
His grip was firm—not painful, but unshakable, like letting her go had never been an option.
“You’re about to save my ass,” he said smoothly.
Then he kissed her.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was hard, heated, and completely unrelenting. His hand slid up, fingers curling around the side of her neck, holding her in place like he was daring her to pull away.
Flashes went off behind her eyes—except they weren’t coming from her. They were coming from everywhere.
She barely registered the sound of shutters clicking, the low murmur of voices, the realization that they weren’t alone.
Alec finally pulled back, his smirk maddeningly confident.
“Congratulations, sweetheart. You’re officially my girlfriend.”
She stared at him, breathless, heart still hammering from the kiss she had never seen coming.
“What the actual hell?” she whispered.
Alec tilted his head, still watching her like she was some kind of puzzle he was piecing together. “Keep up,” he murmured. “Unless you want this to go badly for both of us.”
It was then that she noticed them—the photographers. The men with cameras, the women whispering into their phones, the low hum of a scandal in the making.
Alec turned slightly, just enough to shield her from view as he leaned in again, his lips so close to her ear that she could feel his breath.
“My grandfather is watching,” he said, voice smooth as glass. “And right now, you’re my perfect little long-distance girlfriend who just moved here for me. So smile.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “You are insane.”
Alec smirked. “Maybe. But you’re out of options.”
She pulled back just enough to look at him, searching his expression for any hint that this was some elaborate prank. He held her gaze, unbothered, confident. Then his hand slid down to her wrist again, fingers tightening slightly.
“Your dad works for my family now, doesn’t he?” His tone was casual, but the words hit like a punch. “Do you really think we hired him out of generosity?”
Her stomach twisted. She yanked her hand away, heart racing. “You wouldn’t—”
“I wouldn’t,” Alec agreed. “But my grandfather? That’s another story.”
She felt sick.
“I need a girlfriend, Ivy,” Alec continued, voice almost gentle now. “And you need your dad to keep his job.”
A breath shuddered out of her, and she hated the way her chest tightened because she knew, deep down, that he was right.
She wasn’t stupid.
People like Alec Brayton didn’t make requests. They decided, and people fell in line.
Her throat felt tight. “How long?”
His smirk deepened. “Until I win.”
She didn’t know what that meant, but before she could ask, he was already leading her toward the sleek black car parked by the curb.
“Let’s get you home,” he said.
She slid into the passenger seat, her hands clenched into fists in her lap.
The ride was quiet. Alec didn’t fill the silence with small talk, didn’t try to ease the tension. He just drove, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily against the gear shift.
When they pulled up in front of her house, she hesitated before opening the door.
“I’m not some pawn in your game,” she said, voice low.
Alec’s gaze flicked to her, unreadable. “Aren’t you?”
She wanted to slap him. Instead, she stepped out, slamming the door behind her.
Inside, the house was quiet. Too quiet.
Then she saw it.
The envelope on the counter, her dad’s shaky hands holding it open, his expression one of pure relief.
“It’s official,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “We’re working for the Braytons.”

All the Brayton Brothers Want Me
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