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120 — MRS. ROURKE…
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2025-09-14 22:22:24
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Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement. 136 — ALLERGIES
SILVAN (SEVEN YEARS OLD…)It’s happening again. And I hate it. I really, really hate it.The room is pitch black and so silent, I can hear my heart rattle behind my ribcage. An eerie creak pierces the air as the door slowly swings open, followed by the quiet slap of bare feet on the cold floor.Fear sits in my chest like a fiery boulder. I slam my eyes shut and clutch my blanket, trying my hardest to control my rapid breathing.“Silvie, baby, are you asleep…?” The soft female voice should be soothing, even welcoming, but all it does is send skitters of horror down my spine.The house is empty again. I just know it. She only torments me when father goes on his business trips.Where did he go this time? Rome. Yes, that’s it.Whenever father prepares to leave, she falls on the couch and cries her heart out, begging him to stay. But once he’s out the door, her gloomy mask disappears, swiftly replaced with a serpent-like smile.My father has no idea that his innocent young wife is an exper
Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement. 135 — THE BABIES AND THEIR FATHER.
ASTRIDFIVE HOURS LATER…“Aw, mommy. Mr, Silvan is sleeping!” Zara wiggles in my grip and I set her down, watching with uncertainty as she inches towards Silvan’s bed with her sister.Meanwhile, I remain rooted at the door, unable to take my eyes off the gentle giant sleeping peacefully just a few feet away.He’s lying on his front, his gorgeous face buried in the pillows. His chest is bare, exposing the hard, muscular ridges of his arms and back. But a thick duvet covers him from the waist down.Right now, the fierce, untouchable billionaire who rules conference rooms and commands the attention of top moguls with the lift of his finger is tucked somewhere out of sight.In his place is a soft-faced young man who sleeps with the pillows squashed beneath him and his wrist curled underneath his chin. He seems almost boyish, so at peace. “He’s so handsome, mommy.” Zoey whispers. “Don’t you think so?” She looks up, lashes fluttering at me as she waits impatiently for my agreement.My ga
Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement. 134 — WE NEED YOUR HELP.
ASTRID24 HOURS LATER…Today makes it four days since I set my eyes on Silvan.Four days since he bulldozed into my house, a man on a mission, to rescue us from harm.Four days since he rocked me in his arms and looked at me like his entire life depended on my will to live.And four days since he made love to me with such rough tenderness, I can still feel the ache deep in my limbs.Within these four days, he has gone completely AWOL. No calls, no texts, no random appearance at my home or office. No random extravagant gifts either. Yesterday, my tummy ached like hell because I ate a bad sandwich and I literally sat in my office, staring longingly at the door, expecting to see Michael barge inside with a fancy bag filled with pain relief medications.And when I stayed till the close of work and he did not magically show up, I gave up and went home, my shoulders drooping with disappointment. Silvan has not reached out to the kids either. Recently, I found out that he got their phone n
Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement. 133 — HE IS NOT MY FATHER…
SILVANHenry’s guards push me away, and I feel one of them grab my gun from my waistband. I give him a hard, warning glare;“That shit is expensive. You better handle it with care.”The man gives me a bewildered look.“You almost killed him, sir. This is not right.”My fury returns like it’s been doused with petrol. A harsh growl bubbles in my chest as I advance towards the talkative guard. “This is not right?” I seethe, my voice sharp as a blade. “This is not fucking right? Then I guess being attracted to children as a grown ass man is right, isn’t it? Asking a fourteen year old for a blow job should be normalized, shouldn’t it?”He turns as pale as a sheet, raising both hands in silent surrender;“I’m sorry…”“You better be! And you better hope I never catch you being a rape apologist.” I growl, cutting him off, my warning stern.“Besides, this bloody imbecile is not my father.”He stopped being my father the day he chose his new wives over me. ***TWO DAYS LATER…“Sir, we made s
Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement. 132 — EXCUSES OF A MONSTER…
SILVAN“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Henry stutters, edging backwards and watching me with wide, shifty eyes.At that moment, standing there and watching the slimy vermin, regret slams into me with the force of a speeding truck. All those days when I had unlimited access to his food; to the crazy expensive Arabian tea he loved to drink every morning, I should have poisoned the moron a long time ago.I should have killed him when I had the chance. If I did, he would never have lived long enough to hurt Astrid.“So you’re telling me that you never forced yourself on her? On a fucking minor?”His eyes grow wider, if that is even possible. The bastard is trembling now, like the coward that he truly is.“I promise nothing of the sort happened.”I cock my gun, the hatred inside of me coming alive. The Lord knows I have not despised anyone on earth the way I despise my own father. “You have three seconds to tell me the truth. When your time is up, I will not hesitate to bl
Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement. 131 — HOW MANY TIMES?
SILVANI return to an empty house barely an hour later, a crazy buzz thrumming in my bones, my brain spiraling with exhaustion.The mere thought that my father might have abused Astrid is like a deadly poison curling through my insides. “Welcome, sir.” Michael greets me at the door. “You look… tired. Would you like a hot bath?”I run a hand through my hair, releasing a long sigh. “Where’s Astrid? And the kids?” I ask, my gaze straying to the empty house behind me. “Uh… Miss Machiavelli left with the kids a few hours ago. Zeya and Gemini were here to pick them up.”My heart tightens with an emotion I cannot name. Sadness. Yes, that’s it. She ran from me again. I’m not even surprised.“Don’t worry about the bath, Michael.” I growl, trudging into the room. “I’m fine.”It’s a miracle that I make it all the way without falling on my face. I climb into the bed without bothering to take my clothes or shoes on, and bury my face in the pillows, warmth spreading through my chest when I catch
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