All Chapters of How To Love A Murderer.: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Chapter Eleven: Don't Look At Me Like A Monster The rain poured down as Zhedya’s car pulled up to Ian’s apartment. He saw him immediately…a lone, drenched figure standing on the front porch, not even trying to escape the downpour. “Very dramatic,” Zhedya whispered to himself with a faint shake of his head. He grabbed his umbrella and stepped out. “Ian,” he called out, his voice cutting through the sound of the storm. But Ian didn’t move towards him. Instead, he broke, his words tumbling out in a frantic, rain-soaked ramble. “It was her blood… the suit… Alisa…” Zhedya approached him slowly, holding the umbrella over both of them. His voice was the softest, gentlest it had ever been. “You’ll get sick from standing in the rain, sweetheart.” He gently took Ian’s arm and led him inside. Ian didn’t resist, but his body was stiff, unyielding, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. “You’re soaked,” Zhedya murmured, his hands moving to unbutton Ian’s wet shirt. “How long were you

Chapter Thirteen: Blood and Glass The knife hovered in the air, a sliver of steel reflecting the rage in Zhedya’s eyes. But the blow never fell. Ryan’s hand shot up, gripping Zhedya’s wrist with a desperate strength. They struggled, a brutal, silent battle of wills, muscles straining. With a furious roar, Zhedya shoved Ryan harder, sending them both crashing into the heavy oak desk. A shower of glass from a shattered lamp rained down around them, leaving thin, bleeding cuts on their arms and faces. “You’ve lost your fucking mind!” Ryan yelled, his voice raw. This wasn’t a fight to the death. It was a clash of two predators, a violent dance of dominance and old, festering wounds. “You want to kill me? Then do it!” Ryan spat, blood trickling from his lip. “Or are you too scared? I’m a threat because I know your damn secrets, Zhedya! I can go to Ian and tell him exactly who he’s sharing a bed with! So go on, DO IT!” He laughed, a harsh, broken sound. “Anything happens to m

Chapter Fifteen: Normal Is Overrated “Good morning, everyone,” Zhedya’s voice echoed through the lab like he owned the place, his steps calm and unhurried. “Good morning, Mr. Zhedya,” several workers responded, some standing a little straighter at his presence. He always carried this cold, untouchable kind of confidence. The type that made people watch him from a distance with respect…or fear. Or maybe both. “You get away with too much,” Conner said sharply, walking up to him. “You’re late. Had us waiting.” Zhedya turned to face him, flashing that slow, smug smile. “I live a bit far from here. Honestly, I should’ve been let go when I tried to quit. But it seems someone just isn’t good enough to replace me.” That earned a few muffled chuckles and whispers from nearby staff. Zhedya leaned in, gripping Conner’s shoulder a little too tight. “I’ve got something to handle,” he said calmly and walked away. A few minutes later, he was in the autopsy room, gloves on, scalpel ready.

Chapter Seventeen: The Storm Ian’s heart hammered against his ribs as he stood in the quiet corner of the library. He wasn’t here for books. He was here to meet a ghost…an anonymous source who claimed to have the truth. A whisper cut through the silence from the other side of the shelf. “Hey, you’re here on time.” Ian’s breath hitched. “I’m here.” “I’m going to slip it through the books and leave,” the voice hissed, lower now. “Make sure you do justice to them. Publish it as you should.” A soft rustle, and then… nothing. The presence was gone. Ian’s hands were shaking as he reached between the thick volumes and pulled out a plain brown envelope. He didn’t wait. He clutched it to his chest and hurried out, the weight of it feeling like a brick. ***** Back in his apartment, Ian spilled the contents onto his desk. Photographs. Copies of the original autopsy report for Nicholas Chan. And right beside them, Zhedya’s falsified version. His hands trembled as he held the paper

Chapter Nineteen: Slipping Sanity “Incorrect password or email.” Ian stared at the screen, his stomach dropping. “What the hell?” he muttered, his fingers tapping nervously on the keys. He’d been trying to log into his Feral Minds blog for the past twenty minutes. This was his password…the one he’d used for years, the one he could type in his sleep. But now, his mind was just… blank. “Wait… was it a number first? Or a word?” he whispered to himself, typing another variation. Error. Again. “No… no, this isn’t right. I know this by heart.” His fingers started to tremble, a cold dread creeping up his spine. Why couldn’t he remember? It was like trying to grab smoke. “You’re pushing yourself.” Ian jumped at the sound of Zhedya’s voice right behind him. A firm hand gripped his shoulder. “Close it. I can’t be taking care of you just for you to treat yourself like this.” Flushing with embarrassment, Ian quickly slammed the laptop shut. “I’m just tired,” he mumbled, trying to convi