IN LOVE WITH MY STEPSON のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

Author's POVThat morning, the sky was heavy with gray clouds, as if even the heavens were getting ready for what was about to unfold. Inside the Chicago Police Headquarters, the air felt tense yet strangely expectant. Since the new Inspector General resumed duty, quiet changes had been taking place. Old files were being reopened. Untouchable names were being whispered again.And now, one of those names was about to be written in black and white — with damning evidence to back it up.A man walked into the station, wearing a simple shirt and a dark hoodie pulled halfway over his head, he seemed like one in his early middle fifties. He kept his head low as he approached the front desk. His eyes were sunken, his face pale, but he walked with determination, as though this decision had taken months to build.“I need to speak with the Inspector General,” he said. “It’s about Julius Edwards. My name is Raymond Trent.”The officer looked up sharply. That name — Julius Edwards — still carried

DONALDThe air in Julius's mansion felt colder than usual, even with the sun setting beyond the tall windows. Dust hung lazily in the golden light streaming in. Every creak of the tiled floor and every whisper of the wind outside sent a chill through me. Something wasn't right.We had searched almost every corner of the house-every room, every closet, every locked drawer-and still no sign of Auntie Harriet. Claire's voice trembled when she called out for her. Sasha kept checking behind doors, her eyes were wide with worry. Williams's fists were balled up in quiet frustration. Even though Emily had been asked to stay back at home because of her leg, she had insisted we call her if anything changed.We were on the last hallway. I turned toward the door at the far end-the one Julius always kept locked. The handle was stiff when I twisted it, and it creaked open with a reluctant groan. The room was dim, barely lit by a broken ceiling bulb that flickered weakly overhead. My stomach twisted

CLAIREPrison gates closed behind me with a metallic thud that echoed through my bones. Nothing about this visit felt normal. Nothing ever would. Cold concrete walls lined the hallway as I followed a silent officer down the corridor. Every step I took burned with purpose. Julius's hearing was in two days, but I couldn't wait. I had to see him-face to face-before he stood in court, before the world decided what to do with the monster that ruined so many lives."Good day Sir, I want to speak to Julius Edwards," I told the front desk officer earlier, my voice steady despite the rage swimming in my chest."Who are you to him?" He asked."His assistant at the office." I could have said I was his daughter, but I never wanted to be linked to that murderer, even though his blood flowed through my veins."Fifteen minutes only," he warned, flipping through a register. "And please, be brief.""I will," I cooed.Now I sat inside the sterile visitor's room, my arms folded tight against my chest. A

JULIUSShadows stretched across the cracked walls of the cell I now called my own. The air smelled of sweat, piss, and stale soap. Faint voices from other prisoners echoed down the hallway-some laughing, some shouting, some crying in their sleep.This wasn't a nightmare.It was my reality.My cellmates-three of them-barely gave me a second glance when I first walked in. But once the metal door slammed behind me and they saw the once-powerful Julius Edwards in orange prison overalls, the taunts began."Isn't that the billionaire from the news?""Man thought he would die in a mansion. Now he's wiping his own shit in here.""Hey Julius, where's your butler? Forgot to bring him?"I sat on the edge of a hard steel bunk, my jaw tight, saying nothing. I refused to give them the satisfaction.Time dragged on and every second felt like a slow burn.A loud buzzer rang. A prison warder banged on the cell bars."Move! Dinner time!" he barked.Two of my cellmates shot up quickly, knowing better th

JULIUSSilence reigned in the prison block, only broken by the occasional dripping sound of a leaking pipe nearby. I had dozed off after a long day on the field, my body sore and my spirit numb from the weight of disgrace. As I turned on the hard mattress, drifting in and out of a restless sleep, something shifted in the air around me-so quiet yet oddly unsettling.My eyes opened and I saw a figure pushing the door to my cell-slowly and carefully. The dim bulb above flickered, casting shadows on the walls. I squinted, trying to focus.Then I saw her.It was the female prison warder-the same chubby, light-skinned woman in her late forties who had brought me that strangely warm meal days ago. Her hair was braided tightly to the back, and she wore that usual deep navy-blue uniform that barely held in her curvy figure. She wasn't supposed to be here. I mean, not at this hour.I tried to speak, but she quickly raised her finger to her lips, signaling me to keep quiet. Confused, I slowly li