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The Cleanup
Fecha de publicación:
2026-04-06 06:31:31
Último capítulo
My Ex-Boyfriend is my New Step-Brother The Courtroom Becomes a Stage
"He’s using the same voice, Roman. The exact same one he used when he told me what to wear to the charity dinners," I whispered, my fingers digging so hard into the fabric of Roman's jeans that my knuckles turned white.We were sitting in the front row of the gallery, the air in the courtroom smelling of old cedar and nervous sweat. Across the aisle, Marcus stood at the podium. His hands were clasped loosely in front of his pristine charcoal suit, his posture so straight and effortless you’d think he was hosting a private gallery opening instead of defending himself against twenty federal indictments."Let him talk, Scar," Roman murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration against my ear as his arm wrapped tight around my waist, his thumb rubbing small, heavy circles into my hip. "The microphones here don't belong to him anymore. He can try to perform all he wants, but the script is out of his hands.""The defense expects the court to look past the sensationalized, highly emotional n
My Ex-Boyfriend is my New Step-Brother The Trial Opens
"Do you think they can smell the mountain air on us, or do we just look like two more people waiting for a car crash?"I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the SUV’s window. Outside, downtown Manhattan was a sea of moving bodies. It wasn't just the press; it was a circus. People were holding signs—some calling me a hero, some calling me a liar, and others just there to catch a glimpse of the 'Angel' falling from grace. The quiet of the cabin we’d just left felt like a dream I was being forced to wake up from."They don't see us, Scar," Roman said. He was gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his eyes tracking a news drone hovering above the courthouse steps. "They see a headline. They see a story they think they own. But they don't know the weight of the air in that shack, and they sure as hell don't know you.""I feel like I’m walking into a cage," I whispered. "Just a bigger one this time. With more lights.""I’m right behind you," he promised, reaching over to
My Ex-Boyfriend is my New Step-Brother The Angel Unmasked
"Are the lights too bright? We can adjust them, Scarlett. We want you to be comfortable," the interviewer said, her voice dripping with that rehearsed, soft-shell empathy that usually made my skin crawl.I looked at her—a woman named Sarah who had built a career on 'exclusive' emotional bloodletting. I looked at the three cameras angled toward my face, then down at my own hands. I wasn't wearing the five-carat diamond Marcus had forced on my finger for every gala. I wasn't wearing the silk Dior sheath or the heavy, pore-clogging foundation that made me look like a porcelain doll. I was wearing a faded black sweater of Roman’s and a pair of jeans. My hair was tied back in a messy knot. I looked tired. I looked like I hadn't slept in three years, which was the most honest thing about me."The lights are fine, Sarah," I said, my voice sounding foreign in the quiet studio. "And I don’t think I’m ever going to be 'comfortable' again. Let’s just talk.""People want to know about the 'Angel,
My Ex-Boyfriend is my New Step-Brother The Arrest
"Miller is here, Marcus. You can hear them, can't you? That’s not the sound of a rescue party," Roman said, his voice flat and cold as the sirens began to scream against the quarry walls.Marcus didn't move at first. He stayed hunched over on that wooden crate, his fingers still digging into his scalp. He looked like a man trying to hold his brain together with his bare hands. The blue and red lights were dancing off the rusted corrugated metal of the shack now, rhythmic and relentless, turning his white silk shirt into a strobe light of failure."They're coming for the monster," I whispered, my hand still locked in Roman's. I could feel his pulse—steady, rhythmic, a sharp contrast to the frantic drum in my own chest. "It’s over, Marcus. Really over."Marcus looked up then. His eyes were wide, darting toward the door as the first gravel-crunch of heavy boots echoed outside. "I can fix this," he muttered, more to himself than us. He stood up, swaying on his feet, his hands smoothing do
My Ex-Boyfriend is my New Step-Brother The Final Confrontation
"You think you’re so clever, don't you? Hiding in the dirt like a pair of rats while my life's work burns!"The voice didn't come from a distance. It was a jagged, breathless snarl from just outside the shack's door. I jumped, the tablet sliding from my lap and clattering to the floor. I hadn't heard a car—he must have left his vehicle down the ridge and climbed the rest of the way like a man possessed, driven by a rage that wouldn't let him breathe.Marcus stumbled into the light of the doorway, and my stomach turned. He wasn't the polished god of the Reed Tower anymore. He was sweating, his expensive silk shirt torn at the shoulder, and his eyes were bloodshot. He’d tracked the ghost-ping on Lydia’s cloud, following the digital trail of his own betrayal right to our doorstep."How did you find us?" I breathed, backing away until my heels hit the edge of the cot."I built the systems you’re using to destroy me, Scarlett! Did you really think I wouldn't have a backdoor into your mothe
My Ex-Boyfriend is my New Step-Brother Lydia’s Testimony
"She looks like she’s aged ten years in a single night," Roman muttered, his thumb tracing the play button on the tablet.I sat between his knees, leaning my head back against his chest. The air in the shack was thick and still, the only sound the distant whistle of wind through the quarry. "She’s not wearing her pearls, Roman. She never goes on camera without her pearls.""She’s not going on camera for a magazine spread this time, Scar. She’s going on camera to save herself from a prison cell," he said. He hit play.The video quality was sharp—Chloe’s legal team clearly didn't do things halfway. My mother, Lydia, sat on a velvet sofa that looked like it belonged in a funeral home. Her eyes were puffy, her skin sallow under the harsh studio lights. She looked at someone off-camera, probably a lawyer, and licked her dry lips."My name is Lydia. I am the mother of Scarlett... and for the last three years, I have been a participant in a lie that I can no longer carry," she began, her voi
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