All Chapters of My Stepbrother, My Ruin: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

I tugged my blue hoodie tighter around my body as I slipped under the bleachers, gravel crunching beneath my sneakers. The early morning air was cold and sharp in my lungs. Light filtered through the gaps in the metal above, painting strips of gold and shadow across Ryder’s figure.He was already there—leaning against one of the poles, hands in his pockets, head down like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see me or not.I stopped a few feet away. My heart was racing, but not the kind that came with fear.“I came early,” I said, stupidly. Like it wasn’t obvious.He glanced up. His eyes were tired, guarded. “So did I.”For a second, neither of us said anything. We were acting as if he hadn't fingered me under his father's table. The silence stretched, filled only by the distant echo of cleats hitting pavement and someone shouting near the gym. Then I pulled the flash drive out of my hoodie pocket and held it up.“We cracked

He stared at me as if I had grown three wings, his eyebrows knitting together in a deep frown. Then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So what now?”I laughed under my breath. A dry, humorless sound. “Now? I wait for the house to burn.”He didn’t laugh.Didn’t even smile. Just watched me, like he could see all the cracks in my chest, the parts I’d spent years hiding behind charm and sarcasm and expensive distractions.“Why’d you do it?” he asked finally.I didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, “Because she deserved better than a monster like me.”“Monster… Ryder, you aren't a monster. You and I both know that.”I laughed, low and bitter. “No? Then what am I, Nate? A coward? A liar? A rich kid with a conscience that only shows up when someone dies?”He opened his mouth, probably to give me some bullshit comfort, but I wasn’t done.“You should be glad your dad’s name isn’t in that file,”

Sienna did not expect to see her face plastered all over the internet the next morning. As a social media influencer, she was used to attention—welcomed it even. But not this kind. Not screenshots of her laughing in the background while a girl screamed. Not blurry clips of her holding a syringe. Not headlines calling her a murderer.The video was everywhere. And with it came the storm of hate comments. “You monster.”“Rot in prison.”“Justice for Liliana.”“You’ll pay for this.”“We know what you did.”“Hope you get jumped in jail.”Some weren’t even that subtle:“Die, bitch.”“Watch your back. Real justice is coming.”“I know where you live.”Her hands trembled as she scrolled, scrolling past one death threat after another. Her comment section wasn’t just on fire—it was a funeral pyre. And she was the body.She tried to call Cohen. He didn’t answer.She tried again. No response.She cursed under her breath and yanked her phone away from her ear, staring at the screen like it betray

My leg won't stop shaking under the mahogany table. The leather chair feels like ice against my back, and every breath tastes like fear and expensive cologne. Ryder's staring at me from across the conference room, one eyebrow cocked in that way that usually makes my stomach flutter. But I can't look at him. Not now. Not when I know what's coming.I force my gaze to the floor-to-ceiling windows instead, watching the storm clouds gather over the Caldwell estate grounds.Alexander stands at the head of the table like a king addressing his court, his silver hair perfectly styled even in his rage. The news alert still glows on the tv screen. Apart from the issue from the video, another news story popped up. Serena Holden Announces Engagement to Victor Lancaster. A hotel heiress marrying a mogul. Alexander’s ex wife marrying his rival. Funny, but I couldn't laugh just clasped my fingers together. "Twenty years," he mutters, pacing behind his chair. "Twenty fucking years I kept that woma

I stared at her for a second, my chest tightening. My mum wasn’t the type to break down. She was the type to hold everything together until it burst, like an overstretched rubber band. And right now, the rubber band had definitely snapped.“Sorry for what?” I whispered, afraid of what she'd say next.She didn’t speak immediately, just stared straight ahead, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. Her breathing hitched, and I could see her gathering strength—preparing to tell me the ugly truth she'd tried so hard to avoid.“For everything,” she finally said, her voice low and raw. “For pretending this wasn’t happening. For not seeing how serious it was. I’m glad Riley is finally getting what she deserves. God, Evie, I’m so glad that girl might finally get justice.”I swallowed, my throat tightening. “But?”She sighed shakily, a fresh tear rolling down her face. “But I hate that I sat there silent when Alexander threatened Ryder. The way he spoke to his own son, Evie—it ma