All Chapters of Tamed By The Devil Stepbrother : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Clara's POV I stand at the edge of the university quad, fingers curled tight around the worn strap of my messenger bag. The campus is alive with the usual chaos—students darting between classes, laughter echoing from the steps of the library, and the scent of coffee drifting from the café. Normally, I’d feel at home here, comforted by the familiar rhythm of academia. But today, everything feels off. It's as if I'm walking onto a stage where the spotlight's glaring down, reminding me that there's no escaping the part I'm supposed to play. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. It’s just another semester—just classes, just lectures, just me and my goals. But the truth is, nothing is “just” anything anymore. Not since Mom married Richard Carter, not since Nolan Carter’s shadow loomed over my life like a dark cloud. Nolan Carter. The very name sends a jolt of anger racing through my veins. He’s the type of guy who makes heads turn—tall, athletic, with dark hair that looks perp

Clara's POV I drop my bag by the door and tread cautiously to the kitchen, where Mom is chopping vegetables for dinner. The warm space feels suffocating, like a cocoon I can’t quite breathe in. My thoughts spiral back to the cruel taunts of the day, and the dread of facing Nolan fills me with an uneasiness I can’t shake. It’s like a knot lodged in my throat, suffocating and bitter. “Hey, sweetheart. How was your first day?” Mom asks, looking up at me with that genuine interest that only makes my turmoil feel more pronounced. I shrug, my fingers swirling around the smooth surface of an apple plucked from the bowl on the counter. “Fine. Same as always.” Her brow furrows slightly, sensing something’s off. “Did you see Nolan?” At the mere mention of his name, my heart sinks. I don’t want to discuss him, don’t want to relive those moments filled with torment. Instead of lying, I choose silence as I sink my teeth into the apple, the tartness causing my eyes to water. Each crunch feel

Clara’s POV The moment the words left my mouth, I couldn’t stand there another second. My skin felt too tight, my chest too heavy—the weight of Nolan’s smirk pressing down on me like a curse I couldn't shake off. I turned on my heel, the echo of my hurried footsteps betraying the conflict raging inside me, each sound reverberating with the tension of what I had just witnessed. The floorboards creaked beneath my hurried steps, each sound a reminder of the line I had just crossed, one I never should have approached. The further I got from his room, the easier it was to breathe, but the echo of his laughter trailed after me, dark and taunting, as if it clung to the walls themselves, wrapping around my senses like a suffocating fog. Once in the kitchen, I leaned against the counter, gripping the edge until my knuckles turned white. My hands trembled, and a wave of nausea twisted in my stomach, knotting tighter with each passing second. The cold surface felt like a lifeline, a distrac

Clara’s POV Just as I settled in, the door swung open, and there he was—Nolan, striding into the room with an unmistakable air of arrogance, turning heads as he made his way to the front alongside her. My heart sank, panic threading through me. He was not alone. Beside him was a girl I recognized, tall and confident, with long, flowing hair and a bright smile that seemed to light up the entire classroom. Rebecca, the latest cheerleader darling of the campus—a girl whose charm could draw attention even in a crowded room. The contrast was jarring; my stomach twisted at the sight of them together. I feigned interest in my notes, trying to will the world around me to dissolve along with the tightening knot in my stomach. But Nolan’s presence loomed like an unwelcome shadow, his confidence thick and palpable in the air, especially with Rebecca giggling at something he whispered against her ear. “Look who it is, our resident artist,” he called out, his voice smooth and taunting, head

Clara's POV “Clara!” Nolan’s voice cut through the rain, piercing the veil of my thoughts, and I froze, realizing too late that he had spotted me. The gleam in his eyes shifted—playful certainty melting into something sharper, more invasive. I stumbled, retreating a step as the rain cascaded around my feet, soaking my clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn away fully. “I’m—” but the words failed me as I looked back at him, tension in his gaze thickening the air. In an instant, he disentangled himself from Rebecca, pulling away with a frustrated smirk, irritation warring with something else simmering beneath the surface. “What happened to watching your step, Clara?” he called, taunting. The edge in his voice sharpened, laced with a challenge. “I thought you were too busy being our resident Picasso.” The rain pooled in my heart, mixing with the overwhelming urge to flee. “Just—just forget it,” I stammered, my voice thin, ready to escape this twisted reality that had consum