All Chapters of Claimed By My Stepbrother : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The day was already off to a rocky start, and I wasn’t about to let it get any worse by dealing with Ethan again. After dodging him this morning, I thought I would get some breathing room at school. But school wasn’t exactly known for its calming vibes, was it? I trudged into the building, weaving through the crowd of students who all seemed way more awake than me. Someone was blaring music from their phone, a couple was arguing near the lockers, and a group of juniors were huddled together, laughing way too loudly for 8 a.m. It was chaos, as usual. First period was math, which I hated with a passion. Numbers and I had never been on good terms, and Mr. Higgins wasn’t exactly helping. His monotone voice was practically a lullaby, and I had to fight to keep my eyes open as he droned on about quadratic equations. Tess wasn’t in this class, which meant I didn’t even have her to distract me. Instead, I doodled in the margins of my notebook, trying to make it look like I was taki

I woke to the shrill blare of my alarm, a sound so piercing it could’ve been ripped straight from the climax of a horror movie. Fitting, really, considering my life had taken a hard left into nightmare territory since moving in with Greg and his deranged son—a bona fide psycho and, to top it off, a goddamn stalker. Groaning, I smacked the snooze button and rolled over, burying my face into my pillow. Five more minutes, I promised myself, which was clearly a lie because five minutes always turned into twenty. But nope, not today. I couldn’t risk being late again, not with Mom already giving me the talk about “responsibility” and how I needed to “set a good example" to others like I actually give a fuck. Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled toward the bathroom. The cold tiles sent a shiver up my spine, jolting me awake. I turned on the shower, waited for the water to heat up, and stepped under the spray, letting the warmth wash away the grogginess. Shampoo, conditioner, body was

The day started weird, and somehow it just kept getting weirder. Ethan was everywhere. I don’t mean the occasional hallway run-in or awkward glance across the room—no, I mean every single class. First period? He waltzed in right as the bell screamed its final warning, completely unfazed. Mrs. Kline—our drill sergeant of a math teacher—was infamous for slamming the door shut at exactly 8:00, stranding latecomers in the hallway of shame. But Ethan? Somehow, he got in. No apologies, no scolding, not even a raised eyebrow from her. He just strolled to an empty seat in the back, radiating that smug I-bend-the-rules energy, like the classroom was his personal kingdom and we were just lucky to breathe the same air. Second period? Science. Ethan wasn’t even in my lab group, yet somehow, there he was, lounging against the counter like he had always been part of our team all along. His audacity was almost impressive. Mr. Howell, the guy who could sniff out a misplaced student faster

I am being watched. That was my first thought when I woke up, my heart racing as if I had been startled awake by something—or someone. The room was dark except for the faint glow of moonlight seeping in through the curtains, but it felt... off. Like I wasn’t alone. My breaths came in shallow bursts as I scanned the shadows around me, searching for something, anything, that would explain the weird sensation crawling up my spine. I swear I felt someone standing beside my bed. Watching me. The logical part of my brain screamed, It’s just your imagination, Camila. Go back to sleep. But logic didn’t feel convincing when every hair on my body was standing on end. I sat up slowly, my eyes darting around the room. Nothing. Just the faint outline of my desk in the corner, the pile of laundry I had promised myself I would deal with a week ago, and my bookshelf, looking as innocent as ever. Maybe it was a dream. Yeah, that had to be it—a dream. Or maybe stress from dealing wi

"Snapped out of it." I jolted out of my thoughts, blinking like I had just been slapped. My eyes darted to Tess, who was staring at me with a mix of worry and curiosity. “Snap out of what?” I asked, feigning innocence and trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. Tess narrowed her eyes at me, her pen tapping against her notebook. “Don’t play dumb, Cam. You’ve been like this all through class. Zoning out, scribbling nonsense in your notebook, looking like you just saw a ghost. Is something wrong?” I glanced down at my notebook and cringed. Instead of the neat notes I should’ve been taking, the page was covered in random doodles—mostly spirals and jagged lines that looked more like a crime scene than a study guide. “I’m fine,” I said, waving her off. “Just tired, I guess.” She tilted her head, her curls catching the sunlight streaming in from the window. “You sure? Because tired doesn’t usually come with a side of paranoid twitching. What’s going on?” “It’s n