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152 — THE DANGERS THAT LURKS IN THE DARK

Author: Blaq
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-30 23:59:05

MARCUS

The air in the bunker is thick and hot, tasting like someone left a handful of pennies on a frying pan. Fifteen of us are crammed in here, sweating and hating the same two people.

Marcus stands in the middle, a slash of anger with a scar down his face to prove it. Silvan gave him that. "We need to hit them hard," he says, his voice like gravel. "Where they feel safest."

Lena, who lost her company to one of Silvan's buyouts, slams her fist against the rusty wall. "His apartment. We hit where he sleeps. Where he thinks he's untouchable. I want him to bleed.”

My gut twists. I think of the photos I saw earlier — Silvan and Astrid on their balcony, her laughing, him with his arm around her. The one place he looks like a man instead of a monster.

The prick does not deserve to be happy.

"Too many civilians," I say, my voice rough. "Kids live in that building."

Marcus turns his cold eyes on me. "Since when did you grow a conscience, Kael?"

I shut my mouth. Now isn't the time.

Jax, a k
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  • Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement.   163 — JUST LIKE THAT, BABY…

    ASTRIDBeneath me, Silvan has gone stock still. His eyes are glassy as he appraises me like I’m some kind of exotic sea creature.His arms tighten around my waist and he pulls me closer, making sure there’s no iota of space between us. My breasts are squished against his chest, my nose is almost pressed to his, our lips are a hair’s breadth away from touching, my heart feels like it’s about to explode… but I wouldn’t trade this for the world. I want to remain in this cocoon forever, just us yearning for each other, loving each other…“Angel…” his voice is gruff. Almost like he’s holding back tears.His palm slips underneath my pyjamas top and an involuntary shiver wracks my frame when he splays it on my naked back. His eyes are two endless, bewitching pools of graphite, making it impossible to look away.“Listen to me very closely. Everything I do for you, I do because I love you wholeheartedly, without condition. I admit that you’re not the best with words, but everyone has their s

  • Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement.   162 — I LOVE YOU, DO YOU LOVE ME?

    ASTRIDPRESENT***I got off the call with Hayley thirty minutes ago and kept my eyes glued to the window, silently urging Silvan to get here quickly.When I finally heard his voice from downstairs, when I finally saw him, a thousand and one emotions slammed into me all once — relief, love, remorse…I wanted to crawl into his skin and remain there for the next few hundred years, but one look at his wet, shivering frame and I started panicking.Aunt Elena takes one long look at my face, her eyes darkening with an unreadable expression when she notices that Silvan’s left palm is firmly clasped in mine.“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?”I nod, my veins buzzing with impatience.“I can handle this. Let me handle this.”Another tense heartbeat later, she nods. Her gaze morphs from warm to freezing cold as she refocuses her attention on Silvan;“You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Rourke. But don’t think you can escape this conversation. By sunrise, we will pick up where we left off.”I turn t

  • Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement.   161 — PLEASE, FORGIVE HIM.

    ASTRIDThirty minutes prior…***It’s almost midnight. I should be sleeping, cozying up to the lulling sound of the rain. Instead, I’m pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows like a war general, peering every two seconds at the gloomy, rain soaked streets.After Zeya’s eye opening lecture, I sent my husband a tiny text, hoping to express how much he really means to me. I realized this afternoon that unlike silvan, I do not have a way with words. I love him with every fiber of my being, but putting those feelings into words is one of the hardest things to do. He definitely read my text, but I still haven’t gotten a response. I sink my fingers into my hair, resisting the urge to pull each strand from my scalp.Silvan is a very… verbally romantic person. I cannot shake the feeling that he took one look at my ridiculous text and concluded that I wasn’t worth the effort. Now I’m left wondering if I should send another one.The shrill sound of my phone ringing shatters the silent

  • Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement.   160 — SHE LOVES ME…

    SILVANIt’s settled.Today is by far the shittiest day that I have ever had. It took a lot of effort to get Edward to climb back in his car and leave. And twice that effort was required to peel Hayley away from Toby’s grave.But the damage is already done. Edward’s horrible words… fuck! Once again, I was subjected to the horror of watching my best friend break to pieces… all because of him.I am so exhausted, I can feel my bones rattle with wariness. This is not just a physical, surface-level exhaustion. It goes deeper. My spirit, soul and body are crying for rest.Which is why I called Michael and had him come over to the cemetery and drive us home. If I’d gone behind that wheel, I would’ve probably driven us into an oncoming truck. Hayley is seated beside me with her eyes closed, but I lean forward and access her tired face, just to make sure she’s fine.Convinced that she’s okay, I pull out my phone and stare at the notification bar, a painful twinge blooming in my chest when I f

  • Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement.   159 — SIS, YOU BETTER CALL THAT MAN.

    ASTRID“Life sucks, huh?” I speak into the silence, trying and failing horribly to quell the burning pain in my chest. “I should be honeymooning right now, enjoying Jamaica with my husband. Instead, I’m stuck here, watching you do…” I flick a glance at my best friend who is currently covered head to toe in pastel watercolour, “…whatever you’re doing.”Zeya rolls her eyes. “Girl, all I want is to paint in peace.” She says absent-mindedly, slapping more paint on the disaster that is her canvas, “I let you join me because I thought you wanted to paint too.” Her lips curl in mock disdain as she glances at my blank canvas.“All you’ve done for the past three hours is bitch and moan about your man.”“Well, what else am I supposed to bitch and moan about?” I say on a huff, flopping on the Italian chair and casting a gloomy look at the vaulted ceilings. “It’s been, what, five hours since he left with Hayley? I don’t know, Zeya. I think something is wrong.”When three seconds tick by and all

  • Dear Ex-husband, My Stepbrother is Your Replacement.   158 — EDWARD RIVERA

    SILVANThe sky is a gloomy grey, just the perfect weather to complement my foul mood. I finally managed to get Hayley to stop crying a while ago, but that didn’t last because right now, she’s on her knees, her fingers buried in the dirt and her forehead pressed against the wet tombstone, crying her eyes out all over again.Something hard and painful lodged itself in my throat when I received her call early this morning, and it has refused to go away.It wasn’t this bad last year, her breakdown. She cried a few tears and was moody for a few hours, but she got over it quickly. But it’s different this year. I can swear Hayley got spooked by something. She’s broken. Completely shattered.A suspicious pressure builds behind my eyes and I lower my head, blinking rapidly to keep it at bay. I loved Toby like he was mine. Hell, at some point, people thought he was my son. I would’ve given anything to bring him back, anything at all.That horrible night, two years ago, taught me that I wasn’t

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