IN LOVE WITH MY STEPSON のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

SASHANo one saw Donald's release coming-not even me. After the storm died down and Julius was finally behind bars, I thought justice had been served completely. But the news of Donald being taken in by the police as a suspect in the Julius data leak hit differently.They said he was involved, they also said the anonymous tips about Julius's underground dealings had digital fingerprints that traced back to Donald's old laptop. I remembered how frantic Emily was, crying and pacing at the police station, swearing he had nothing to do with it. Deep inside, I believed her. I knew Donald might be a lot of things, but he wasn't reckless. He was too careful to leave tracks if he was ever going to play dirty.Weeks later, he was released. No evidence, no proof, no confession. Just silence. It almost felt like someone high up had ordered it. Maybe someone had protected him-or maybe he was really just clean. I never asked. I had stopped needing explanations from people.Since Julius's arrest, l

Author's POVMiss Diane poured two glasses of chilled apple vodka and set them beside the large platter of food on the glass table. Dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and shorts, she looked relaxed, unbothered, and very much in a big mood.Frances, her friend, sank into the couch with a dramatic sigh and threw her hair behind her shoulder. "You always go all out when you're off duty. Damn, girl."Diane chuckled. "I told you, I like to enjoy my days off. There's pasta alfredo, glazed ribs, mashed potatoes with creamy garlic sauce, shrimp, and grilled chicken salad. Pick one. Or pick all, in fact..."Frances lifted the cover of one tray and let out a moan. "Christ! Diane, You prepared all these today? Man, I need you to quit that job and stay in this kitchen forever.""You wish.""I'm serious! Every time you're off, I eat like royalty. What's this? Goat ribs with bourbon glaze?""Yup.""Then that's what I'm having," Frances declared, grinning. "God bless the correctional facility for gi

JULIUSLying on the stiff prison mattress, I stared at the cracked ceiling above me, the rejected plate of tasteless prison porridge still lingering in my mind like guilt. Hunger pierced my belly, but pride had held my throat hostage earlier. I had refused that rubbish. Tonight, I would rather sleep hungry than eat what tasted like sawdust mixed with shame.A soft knock came at my cell gate. I blinked, unsure if I had imagined it. Then, another knock followed.“Who is it?” My voice came out gruff.“It’s Diane,” came the smooth whisper. “Open up.”I sat up in a blink, adjusting the hem of my worn shirt as I approached the cell gate. The lock clicked softly when I turned it. I opened the gate just enough to let her in, and she stepped inside with a bowl wrapped in white napkin and a cold bottle of water tucked beneath her arm.Officer Diane. Full-figured. Lips always painted red. Her eyes were always sharp. And tonight, in her off-duty hoodie and jeans, she looked nothing like the enfor

SASHAI paused at the sight before me, blinking twice to be sure I wasn't imagining it. Claire walked in with a young lady I had never seen before, her eyes swollen with tears, her face pale, and her arms wrapped tightly around her tiny frame. Something about her looked fragile-too fragile. Maybe it was the way she avoided my gaze or how her body trembled slightly with every step she took."Good evening, ma'am," the girl greeted softly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "My name is Ivy... And...Miss Claire here told me about you. She said you help people who are... going through things."What? She hadn't arrived and she was talking this much! Claire stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. "This is Ivy Hale," she said, beaming. "She'll be staying with us for a while. I'll tell you her story later, but for now, let's just make her feel safe."My lips parted, but no words came out. Safe? In this house? Our house?Claire looked so determined, like

SASHAA soft knock echoed from the front door, sharp and clear, dragging my attention away from the plate of watermelon slices I had barely touched all morning. My stomach twisted a little-not from hunger but from something else. A kind of uneasiness I couldn't name.It had been exactly one week since we sent Ivy to Hope's Bridge Orphanage. Claire had driven us there herself. I remembered the tall gates, the peeling yellow paint, and the quiet air of order around the place. I also remembered the woman who met us-calm eyes behind clear round glasses, a gentle but firm face, her long grey-and-white habit flowing over her small frame, and a wooden rosary resting on her chest.Now, as I approached the door, something in my chest sank.I pulled it open slowly.There she was. That same Reverend Sister, standing quietly, her hands folded in front of her. And beside her, Ivy.My heart dropped."Sister..." I started, my voice unsure, already praying it wasn't what I feared.The woman offered a