All Chapters of In love with my step father in law : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Chapter 2: The House of Silence---The estate was too quiet without Ethan.Even the air felt heavier, as though the house held its breath the moment his car left the grounds. I stood behind the drawing-room curtains, watching the black Mercedes disappear into the tree-lined drive, the shadows of dusk stretching long and thin behind it. A chill crawled across my bare shoulders despite the summer heat.Ethan hadn’t even kissed me goodbye. Just a polite nod and a distracted “I’ll call.”As if I were his assistant, not his wife.I remained by the window long after he was gone, the silence pressing in around me like velvet walls. Soft, suffocating.The house was a maze of too many rooms. Rooms with locked doors. Rooms no one entered. Rooms filled with relics of a family legacy I had married into but didn’t understand. Sometimes, I wondered if anyone really lived here—or if the mansion was merely a monument to cold ambition.I wandered the hallways, my robe whispering against the marble fl

---Chapter 4: The Distance Between Beds---Ethan came back with the scent of airport lounges and obligation. Not perfume. Not guilt. Just… distance.His voice was polite when he kissed my cheek, his hands cold when they lingered at my waist. I stood still, letting him touch me like I was a glass door he was about to walk through—not a woman he once claimed to love.“Everything alright here?” he asked as we climbed the grand staircase together.“Yes,” I replied.Lie number one.We passed the hallway that led to Christopher’s study. The door was closed. But I could feel his presence—like static crawling beneath my skin.Ethan didn’t look at it. Didn’t look at me either.“I’ll be in the guest room tonight,” he said casually.“The guest room?”“I’m jetlagged. Early meeting tomorrow.”He didn’t see the way my expression faltered. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care.The bed in our room was cold. Untouched. Just like the last three nights.---I dreamt of water again.Dark waves pull

Chapter 6: Shattered MirrorsThe morning after the storm arrived like a fragile promise. Pale sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains of the mansion, but it did little to warm the cold knot of dread tightening in my chest. The silence was unsettling — too still, as if the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to break.I sat alone in the greenhouse, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and crushed leaves, clutching the dusty leather-bound diary I’d found hidden beneath the floorboards. Aurelia’s diary. Her words spilled across the fragile pages, raw and intimate, painting a portrait of a woman both desperate and defiant — a woman who had lived behind a mask of perfection, just like I had tried to.Each entry was a fractured reflection, a shattered mirror revealing secrets that no one in this house wanted to face. Her handwriting trembled in places, revealing pain I could feel in my bones. Her fears, her regrets, the twisted love she’d shared with Christ

Chapter 8: The Forbidden TruthThe silence in the mansion wasn’t empty — it throbbed, pulsed like a living thing. It pressed against the walls, filled the air between conversations, and wrapped around me when I was alone. I felt it every time I touched the diary hidden beneath my mattress, every time Christopher looked at me as if I were his sanctuary and his sin.But it was no longer just our secret. Someone else knew.The notes had stopped — but not the feeling of being watched.I noticed it in the smallest ways: doors that weren’t closed the way I left them, cold spots in the hall even when the fire was roaring, a flicker of movement in the mirror that vanished when I turned around. The paranoia dug into me like thorns beneath my skin.Still, I couldn't stop. I needed to know what happened to Aurelia. I needed to know why Christopher never spoke of her death, why Ethan's fury had begun to feel personal, and why every answer led me deeper into a maze of deception.---One evening, I

Chapter 10: Splinters of GlassHospitals always smell like denial.Bleach, sterile metal, faint blood. The scent of pain cleaned over, like grief scrubbed into silence. That’s what hit me first as I stepped into the ICU waiting room — then the silence. The kind that speaks louder than screams.Christopher was alive. Barely.They had stabilized him, said the blade missed his heart by inches. Lucky, they called it. I didn’t believe in luck anymore. Only survival.I watched through the glass as he lay pale and unconscious, tubes threading from his arms like ghostly veins. Machines whispered rhythmically — reminders that life could be broken down into beeps and numbers, even if the heart behind them was shattered.He looked so unlike the man I knew. No fire in his eyes. No quiet defiance in his jaw. Just stillness. As though part of him had already crossed over and hadn’t decided whether to return.---I didn’t sleep that night. I paced the corridor outside his room until dawn, Aurelia’s