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Chapter 27: Nobody Is Answering
publish date:
2026-09-30 07:05:40
Latest chapter
The Sweetest Stepmom Chapter 101: Skyfall
The rain lashed against the tarmac, turning the helipad into a slick mirror of chaos. Ethan didn’t wait for permission. He grabbed Amelia’s arm, hauling her toward the hovering helicopter, while Patrice stumbled behind them, clutching her bleeding side with one hand and keeping her pistol trained on the unconscious form of Marcus Thorne with the other. "Get in!" Ethan shouted over the deafening roar of the rotors. "Now!" Amelia shielded Noah tightly against her chest as she scrambled up the ramp. The interior of the aircraft was dimly lit by emergency strips, smelling of leather and aviation fuel. She tossed herself into a seat near the cockpit, buckling Noah into a harness beside her before strapping herself in. Ethan slid into the pilot’s seat, his movements efficient and practiced. He wasn’t just a CEO; he had learned to fly years ago during his rebellious youth, a secret skill Richard had never bothered to erase from his records. "Patrice! Move it!" Ethan yelled out the open d
The Sweetest Stepmom Chapter 100: The Unholy Trinity
The service elevator groaned as it ascended, the metal walls vibrating with the distant thunder of explosions from the lower floors. Amelia leaned against the cold steel, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Noah was asleep in her arms, exhausted by the adrenaline dump and the sedatives still lingering in his system. Ethan stood beside her, checking the magazine of his rifle, his face a mask of grim determination. "Helipad is two levels up," Ethan said, glancing at the digital display. "If Marcus gets on that chopper, he’s gone. And if he injects that syringe into the main server node before takeoff..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. They both knew what it meant. Total neural collapse for Amelia. Death for Clara. And likely, fatal feedback loops for anyone connected to the network—including Noah, whose brainwaves were already synced with the facility’s core. "We have to stop him," Amelia whispered. "But we can’t fight an entire Zurich extraction team alone." As if summ
The Sweetest Stepmom Chapter 99: The Third Player
The red emergency lights bathed the nursery in a hellish glow, casting long, distorted shadows against the pastel walls. Marcus Thorne stood calmly in the center of the room, the syringe of glowing green liquid held loosely in his hand. He didn't look like a threat. He looked like a doctor waiting for a patient to settle down. "Step away from the boy," Amelia commanded, her voice trembling not with fear, but with suppressed rage. Clara surged within her mind, eager to tear the man apart, but Amelia held her back. She needed answers. And she needed them now. Marcus smiled, a thin, polite expression that didn't reach his eyes. "I am not here to harm him, Amelia. I am here to save him. From you. From Richard. From the very existence of this cursed estate." Before Amelia could respond, the heavy oak doors burst open. Richard Whitmore strode in, flanked by two remaining honor guards. His face was flushed, his suit torn at the shoulder where smoke and debris had caught him during the atr
The Sweetest Stepmom Chapter 98: The Storm Breaks
The sedatives were still in her bloodstream, a heavy fog clinging to the edges of her vision. But Amelia pushed through it, fueled by the cold, sharp clarity of Clara’s rage. She didn’t stumble. She didn’t sway. She walked with the predatory grace of a woman who had nothing left to lose and everything to reclaim. Ethan stayed close, his hand hovering near hers, ready to catch her if she fell. He looked terrified, not of the Zurich mercenaries approaching from the outside, but of the transformation happening within his wife. "Amelia," he whispered, his voice tight. "Are you sure about this? We can wait for an opening." "There is no opening," Amelia said, her voice steady, layered with that dual resonance—her warmth, Clara’s steel. "Waiting means dying. Fighting means living. And I intend to live." They reached the door. It was locked electronically, a red light pulsing on the keypad. Amelia placed her palm flat against the surface. She didn’t hack it. She didn’t guess the code. She
The Sweetest Stepmom Chapter 97: The Crumbling Facade
The room was a masterpiece of deception. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of manicured gardens, blooming hydrangeas, and a fountain that cascaded water with soothing precision. Sunlight streamed in, warm and golden, illuminating the plush white carpet and modern furniture that screamed wealth and comfort. To any outsider, it looked like a sanctuary. A place of healing. To Amelia, it felt like a terrarium. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, practicing the art of stillness. Across from her, Ethan paced nervously, his eyes darting to the corners of the room where small, unobtrusive cameras blinked red every few seconds. "We need to leave," Ethan whispered, leaning close to her ear, pretending to adjust her hair. "This is too easy, Amelia. Richard doesn't give gifts. He sets traps." Amelia didn't move her lips. She spoke directly into the neural link Clara had established with the facility's internal network. *Stay calm, Ethan. Let the
The Sweetest Stepmom Chapter 96: The Silent Offer
Dawn broke over the forest not with a gentle glow, but with a harsh, gray light that filtered through the canopy like dirty water. Amelia woke with a start, her hand instantly flying to Noah’s forehead. The boy was still sleeping, his breathing deep and even, the fever broken by Clara’s precise application of yarrow and pine resin. For a moment, she felt a surge of pride. She had saved him. But then, the weight of the previous night crashed down on her. Ethan was gone. Captured in the burning cabin. And she was alone in the wilderness with a child who didn’t know he was half-machine. A low hum vibrated through the air, subtle at first, then growing louder. It wasn’t the wind. It was mechanical. Precise. Amelia froze, pulling Noah close behind the trunk of the oak tree. Her eyes scanned the sky above the clearing. Three black drones descended silently from the mist, hovering ten feet off the ground. They bore no markings, no logos. Just sleek, matte-black exteriors and glowing red o
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