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

Ivana D'Amelio, wedding day--- As I wear my wedding necklace, I can't help but scratch my neck. It is not the wedding necklace I have not gotten used to. It is the pearls that seem heavier than they should have been. It makes me think, the vows I have taken. Can a person collapse under the burden of pearls and a necklace of lies? Perhaps it is the way your cool, calculating, and unapologetic gaze followed me across the ballroom. Too his eyes my husband was nothing but prey.My stepfather-in-law Christopher D’AmelioWith cold and unloving eyes and soothing voice, “You should be glowing my wife now,” said Ethan, the ‘lucky’ not so lucky groom of mine as he whispered sweet nothings to me, lightly squeezing my back.Was I everything I was told to be, to smile my true self smile. For family, friends and folks Ethan could not pretend for. To savor, dress, and feast on concealment, and tip toe round better my phasms worst harshly bewildered, clenching my body cross to the inaronet or your t

Chapter 3 -The morning GardenI was guided only by instinct as I strolled to the rear of the property gardens and saw the sky bleeding amber. Something felt like it was drawing me, an unseen thread tugging at my spine, away from the sterile corridors and chilly chandeliers of the D'Amelio home. After then, I noticed it.A greenhouse. Forgotten. Half devoured by nature under overgrown ivy's curtain. Moss smudged the glass; the frame rusted, like a secret someone had attempted to conceal but never quite could. I entered. The air changed the instant the door creaked open. Thick. Earthy. Loaded with recollections. Into my lungs coiled the aroma of wet dirt and decaying roses. The silence was hearing rather than dead. Within, chaos unfolded in quiet. Flower beds had been devoured by vines; thorns dominated the walkways. Catching on floating dust like golden confetti from a forgotten party, sunlight filtered in through the broken ceiling. Centered was a wrought iron bench. be

------Chapter 5:Forbidden waysIt’s always in the dark when things come undone.The night the storm hit, I couldn’t breathe. Not properly. The walls of the house felt like they were pressing inward, suffocating me with silence, with all the things no one said but everyone knew.I walked barefoot down the corridor, my fingers grazing the wallpaper like I needed to touch something real. The thunder outside cracked so violently it rattled the windows, but that wasn’t what made my chest tighten.It was the way the house sounded different now. Empty in a way that wasn’t physical—more like it had been hollowed out by secrets. Or maybe grief. I don’t know.I didn’t plan to go to the library. My body moved before I had a chance to think. That room was supposed to be his sanctuary, not mine. But I think, deep down, I wanted to see if the storm had gotten to him too.He was there.Christopher.Not looking at anything. Just sitting. One hand curled around a half-empty glass of something dark, th

------Chapter 7: Threading ShadowsThere are silences that speak louder than screams.This house was full of them.Not the quiet of peace, but the kind that hums beneath the skin. A silence that watches. Waits. Breathes.The walls knew things I didn’t. And lately, they seemed eager to share.I began to feel it during breakfast. The way Christopher’s hand lingered over his cup, not drinking. The way his gaze wandered when I asked about Aurelia’s painting, as if the name alone cut something open in him.“Did she like to paint?” I asked, tracing the corner of the canvas with my finger.“She liked to disappear,” he replied, not looking at me.A beat passed between us, the kind you don’t know what to do with. So I let it sit there, heavy and hot.“She was troubled,” he added after a moment. “Too sensitive for a house like this. Or maybe this house made her that way.”I wanted to ask more, but the air between us was too thick, too charged with something I didn’t yet understand.Instead, I s

.------Chapter 9: Unshackled The mansion's atmosphere had shifted.It wasn't merely tension anymore; it was a palpable dread—thick and oppressive, akin to the air before a tempest. This dread seeped into my bones, making the walls seem as though they were listening.Every door creaked louder. Shadows lingered longer. And somewhere deep within the house, Ethan watched.Christopher and I maintained our secret, but the fear of discovery intensified daily. Our encounters became brief, hurried, stolen moments in stairwells or behind the greenhouse's tall hedges. Each touch felt like we were tempting fate to bring everything crashing down.But I no longer feared the fall.I feared what we might uncover upon landing.---One morning, I awoke to find another letter slipped beneath my door.No return. The thread runs crimson. Find the box in the attic. — V.My heart pounded as I stared at the note. The handwriting matched the elegant scrawl on Aurelia’s letters to Vincent. But Vincent was de