Claiming His Stepmother のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

The air in the room felt heavy. Althea’s sweet floral perfume smelled strange next to the scent of rain and old wood. Standing by the desk, she crossed her arms. Her eyes showed that she was hurt, but she wasn't going to back down."The lease on the penthouse is already signed, Ethan," Althea says, her voice trembling but firm. "We decided this months ago. We were going to start our lives away from this museum. Away from your father’s."Ethan is standing by the window, his back to her. He looks out at the sprawling gardens, his mind clearly miles away, tucked into the master suite where Zora is currently resting."The situation has changed, Althea," he says, his voice a low, flat rasp. "My father needs me here. The Reynolds business is in a delicate state, and with my stepmother’s health being tampered with, I can’t leave the estate.""Stepmother’s health?" Althea lets out a sharp, incredulous laugh. She walks up to him, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Ethan, you’re her stepson, no

The car is a silent, leather-lined cage. Ethan is at the wheel, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard the leather groans. He hasn't spoken a word since we cleared the mansion gates.I sit in the passenger seat, my coat wrapped tightly around me. My hand is buried in my pocket, my fingers curled around the tiny glass vial of body oil. It feels like a thermal detonator."You’re twitching, Sapphire."Ethan’s voice breaks the silence, low and rasping. He doesn't look at me."I'm just nervous," I lie, my voice thin. "Going back to see my past and the graves... It's a lot.""Don't lie to me. You’ve been reaching for your pocket every thirty seconds since we left." He swerves the car suddenly, pulling into a deserted, gravel-strewn lot beneath a rusted overpass. The engine cuts out, and the silence that follows is deafening.He turns in his seat, his grey eyes burning with a terrifying clarity. "Take your hand out of your pocket.""Ethan, it’s nothing…""Now!"I pull my hand out, the

Ethan sits across from me at the dining table. He hasn't touched his wine. He hasn't even looked at his plate. He is staring at Arthur with a gaze so sharp it should be drawing blood."You look distant, Ethan," Arthur says, his voice slicing through the silence. "Did the trip to the old neighborhood bring back memories of Zora’s struggles?""It was... enlightening," Ethan replies. His voice is a low, dangerous rasp. "I saw things I didn't expect to see. Patterns I didn't know existed."Arthur tilts his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Life is full of patterns, son. We should be grateful for our comfort. People are struggling out there." He pauses, setting his fork down. “Which is why you should move to the penthouse as Althea suggests. Don’t jeopardize the merger. It isn't good for business.”I notice the vibration in Ethan. Since we left my parents' graves, he hasn't spoken. He hasn't touched me. He just stares at his father with a look that sits somewhere between pity and pu

The afternoon sun bleeds through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the sunroom. Althea sits perched on an armchair, looking every bit the future princess of the Reynolds empire."Hello Mrs. Reynolds, please come sit," Althea says, gesturing to the chair opposite her. "We haven't had a chance to speak properly since I moved in this morning."I sit, my spine stiff. I can feel the weight of Ethan's gaze from the hallway, he’s monitoring security, but I know he’s watching me."I know Ethan is a complicated man," Althea begins, pouring tea with a hand that is terrifyingly steady. "He has secrets. Dark rooms in his mind that even I haven't been invited into yet, but then I thought I was in control of his darkness""He’s... private," I manage to say, my throat dry."He’s more than private, Zora. He’s unfaithful."The word drops like a stone in a quiet pool. I freeze, my cup halfway to my lips."I found something in his room today," Althea continues. She reaches into the pocket of her cardigan

I hear a knock on the master suite door.Ethan.It’s past midnight and time to pay my Tax.I slide out from under the heavy silk duvet, leaving Arthur’s rhythmic, oblivious breathing behind. My heart is a frantic bird hitting the cage of my ribs. I don't grab a robe; I move in my thin silk nightgown, a slip of moonlight fleeing a nightmare.I crack the door. Ethan is there, a silhouette of jagged edges against the dim hallway light. He doesn't say a word. He reaches out, his hand wrapping around my wrist like a cold iron shackle, and drags me toward the library.The moment the library door shuts, the "click" of the lock sounds like a gunshot."Ethan, you’re hurting me," I gasp, my back hitting the heavy large desk.He doesn't let go. He crowds into my space, his body a wall of heat and vibrating fury. "I watched him," he hisses, his face inches from mine. "I stood in that gallery and watched his skin touch yours. I watched him claim a piece of you as if he had the right. As if he c