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2025-05-08 01:37:19
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My Stepbrother, My Ruin 73.
I stared into his eyes for a half-second too long before I turned away.No smile. No nod. Just... silence.If Ryder was surprised by that, he didn’t show it. But his jaw ticked. Slightly and tightly. Like he was biting down on something sharp.I didn't smile at him and turned on my heels, kept walking without looking back at him. My heart clenched at the feeling of doing that but I didn't care. It's gone. He is a traitor and I don't trust him anymore. I shook my head not wanting to think about the past or him. I didn't want him to ruin my mood. I came here to discover Sienna's goal and use it to my own leverage. I pushed open the glass door and stepped into an exquisite looking ballroom. The ballroom was carved from money—glass walls, black marble floors, spotlights diffused just right to make everyone look more important than they really were. Everything about it was curated for vanity. And tonight? I wasn’t here to blend in.I was here to haunt someone.My crimson dress caught eve
My Stepbrother, My Ruin 72.
I wore sunshades to cheer practice.They didn’t like that.At all.“Evie,” one of the girls said, tugging her ponytail tighter as she approached, “this isn’t a fashion show.”I didn’t even look her way. Just kept stretching.“It’s the sun,” I muttered. “My eyes are sensitive.”“It’s cloudy.”“I’m sensitive to clouds too.”A few girls snorted behind me. Whispered things they didn’t bother keeping quiet. I didn’t care. I wasn’t here for them. I wasn’t even really here for cheer right now. I just needed to move. To breathe. To focus on anything that wasn’t him.“Where’s Mia?” another girl asked.No one answered.No texts.No calls.Nothing.Vivianne slid into place beside me during warm-ups. Her gaze flicked toward me under her lashes. “You good?”I nodded too fast. “Just busy.”She hummed like she didn’t buy it, but didn’t press either. Thank God.Because if anyone asked one more time, I was either going to cry or scream.And I didn’t feel like deciding.---Later that day, I was in the
My Stepbrother, My Ruin 71.
Stay calm, Evie. Stay calm.But I was shaking with anger.Not the loud kind. Not the kind that screamed or threw things.This was the kind that lived deep in your bones. That crawled under your skin and clenched your throat and made everything feel too quiet.We were eating takeout on his couch.Ryder was talking about football now. Something about new drills and how Coach Graham was riding him hard about missing a pass last week. His voice was low, familiar.Safe.But I barely heard a word.My fingers were curled around the chopsticks, noodles untouched in the container.He glanced at me mid-sentence, brow creasing. “You okay? You’ve barely said a word.”I didn’t look at him.Not yet.if I didn't say it, I would die from within. Even though I wanted to act as if it didn't matter. It did. It fucking did. So I did it. Even if it would ruin our relationship I said it. “You said you weren’t there.”Ryder stopped mid bite.The room fell silent.He blinked. “What?”I finally turned to
My Stepbrother, My Ruin 70.
Ryder’s penthouse looked like something off the cover of a billionaire lifestyle magazine. It was sleek, masculine cold in a way that felt intentional. The walls were painted a deep charcoal, the floors a polished dark wood that reflected just enough light from the massive windows facing the city skyline. There was a pool table in the far corner, untouched. Shelves lined one wall, filled with books that looked like they were chosen more for aesthetic than interest.But the living room, yeah, that was his favorite spot. Black leather sectional. Minimalist décor. Everything smelled like cedarwood and ambition.I was curled into the far corner of the couch, arms wrapped around my knees. He stood across from me, hands shoved in his pockets, staring like I was some unsolvable equation.I told him everything that happened with Maya, not that I was hoping for his support. I didn't need it. Not from a liar.“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” he said, voice tight, “I’m saying you need to slow
My Stepbrother, My Ruin 69
Dean Marshall.He was the head of Ravencrest’s disciplinary board. Former military. Cold eyes. Voice like gravel. The kind of man who didn’t tolerate excuses and had zero patience for drama. If you got a summons from him, you didn’t sleep the night before.And there he was.His name, listed beside all the others.“He was part of it?” I asked, voice barely a whisper.Maya didn’t look away from the screen. “That explains a lot, doesn’t it?”I swallowed. “The missing records. The cover-up. No investigation. It makes sense now. He was probably paid."Maya nodded. “He has the power to bury anything he wants. And if he was in on it…”“He made sure Liliana’s death disappeared,” I finished for her.I stared at the screen, fists clenched at my sides, heart pounding so hard it hurt.But then—My eyes froze on a paused frame in one of the videos.Two boys.Laughing. Holding red solo cups.One of them was Caden.And the other, younger, maybe seventeen.Was the one person that made my heart skippe
My Stepbrother, My Ruin 68
Maya drove quietly for a while, her fingers drumming on the wheel, some low R&B song playing through the speakers. It wasn’t awkward, just… heavy. Like we both had too many thoughts and not enough space in the car to say them out loud.We pulled into a quiet neighborhood, one of those older parts of town with cracked sidewalks, chipped fences, and the scent of fried food wafting through the air. Her house was small, pale blue with flower pots near the porch. To be sincerely speaking, I expected more. Most Ravencrest students, boast about their houses. Homes and how rich they were. This was just unexpected. “This is me,” she said, throwing the car into park.“Cute,” I murmured.Maya smirked. “Wait till you see inside. I know it isn't much, but it's mine and I worked hard for it without my parents help.”I smiled. "Really nice."I followed her up the steps, and the second we got inside, I was hit with the smell of cinnamon and old books. A fan spun lazily overhead, and photos cover
My Stepbrother, My Ruin 67.
Practice ended with a whistle and a muttered curse under Mia's breath. I barely heard any of it.My eyes were on Maya.She hadn’t come back after storming off. Her stuff was still sitting near the benches. Her water bottle half full. Her bag unzipped.I waited, letting the rest of the team filter out slowly—laughing, gossiping, brushing past me like I didn’t exist.When Maya finally showed up again, she moved fast. Her eyes didn’t meet anyone’s. She just grabbed her bag and turned to leave.I took a breath and moved quickly.“You’re Liliana’s friend,” I said.She froze.Then turned slowly, brows raised, guarded. “Excuse me?”“I heard what you said earlier. About the anniversary. About lighting a candle.”Maya’s eyes darted around like she was searching for an exit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”“I’m not trying to start anything,” I said quickly. “I just—”“You shou
My Stepbrother, My Ruin 66
Ryder turned off the water with one hand, the other never leaving my waist. He wrapped a towel around me with the kind of care that made my throat tighten, then lifted me again—my body limp in his arms, skin warm and slick from the shower.Not because I was weak.But because I wanted him to carry me.I wanted to be held.And he did.He held me like I was something fragile. Like the fire he'd stoked in me hadn’t just burned through the room minutes ago. Like I was still soft under the ash.The bedroom lights were low, the sheets slightly rumpled, shadows dancing along the edges of the walls as he laid me down—gentle, deliberate, like setting something precious into place.He didn’t rush to leave. Didn’t grab his phone. He didn’t even bother with clothes.He just joined me.Pulled the covers over both of us, slid behind me, and tucked my bare body against his chest. His arm looped around my waist. His lip
My Stepbrother, My Ruin 65.
"I...I can't feel my legs..." I panted, voice wrecked, throat raw, hips still twitching from the aftershock. I ran a trembling hand through my hair, trying to steady myself, still pinned between the mirror and his chest—his cum slowly dripping out of me, thick and warm between my thighs.Ryder didn’t answer right away.He just looked at me.Smirking. Possessive. Still hard.His cock—still fucking hard.God help me.He pulled out slow, and I whimpered at the loss, at how empty I suddenly felt, how my walls clenched down around nothing.Then he dropped me.Not rough—no. But deliberate.I collapsed to my knees with a weak cry, my thighs quivering, muscles useless and slick with our mess. I barely had time to catch myself on my palms before his hand fisted in my hair and yanked my head up to meet his gaze.He looked down at me like I was a treat he hadn’t finished devouring.“You can’t feel your legs?” he mocked, voice husky, dripping with amusement. “Good. You won’t need them for this.”
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