All Chapters of My Enemy [BL]: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Finally, after what seemed like an endless stretch of awkward silence and my parents’ overly sweet flirting, the drive came to an end. As Carlby guided the limousine down a narrow, tree-fringed path, I spotted the cabin through the windshield — big, wooden, and nestled among towering pines. The lake sparkled in the background, sunlight dancing on its surface like polished glass. For a moment, I nearly forgot to breathe. It was stunning... in that oddly quiet way that made you feel both at ease and a little on edge.When we stopped, Mom was the first to hop out, her heels crunching on the gravel as she took in her surroundings with wonder. "Oh my," she exclaimed, hands clasped together. "It’s... beautiful. Like something out of a movie.""Hasn’t changed a bit in seven years," Roderick said with a proud smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Used to come here with Rowan and...his mom every summer. Thought you two would love it too."I glanced at Mom,

Rowan’s lips curled into a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and as he started walking toward me, every instinct in my body screamed to run. But I didn’t move. I stood my ground, even as his shadow loomed over the porch, swallowing up the light between us."Well, well," he said, his voice low and sharp, "look who finally decided to speak up. I didn’t think you had it in you to talk back to me like that again."He probably thinks he’s some kind of god or something, but yeah, I was done being pushed around.His tone was icy, mocking. With every step he took forward, I instinctively stepped back, the wooden boards creaking under my feet."I guess being around your precious Frank has made you bold, huh?" he continued, his eyes gleaming with a satisfaction that felt almost tangible. "But don’t forget who you’re talking to, Atlas. You’re way out of your depth.""Don’t... don’t start that again," I managed to say, even though my throat fel

Rowan plated the food in silence, sliding one dish towards me before taking a seat across the table. The aroma of the eggs and sautéed tomatoes filled the cabin, stirring a mix of hunger and embarrassment in my stomach.I hesitated for a moment before mumbling, "Thanks."He didn’t even glance my way; he just dove into his meal like I wasn’t even there. Classic.I picked up my fork and took a bite, and wow, my taste buds were dancing. This stuff was... actually delicious. Like, seriously good. The eggs were fluffy and seasoned just right, and those tomatoes had this fresh tanginess that made everything pop. I couldn’t resist going in for another bite."Okay," I said, swallowing slowly, "This is... really amazing."He raised an eyebrow but kept chewing, his expression still unreadable.With curiosity getting the best of me, I couldn’t hold back. "W–when did you learn to cook? I’ve never seen you near a frying pan before. The chef p

Just a three days had passed since our parents disappeared into their own world of irresponsibility, and somehow Rowan and I had already fallen into a quiet routine of avoiding each other. He stayed on his side of the cabin, I stuck to mine, and we only really crossed paths for meals or when we both needed the kitchen which was awkwardly neutral territory.Still, even in silence, he found ways to annoy me.Everywhere I turned, there was evidence of Rowan’s presence scattered around. A hoodie carelessly thrown over the couch. A half-empty water bottle perched on the porch railing. His basketball bag sprawled wide open in the hallway, just waiting to trip me up.At first, I figured it was just his lazy side showing—until it hit me. Back at the mansion, Rowan was annoyingly tidy. He kept his sneakers perfectly lined up and his room looked like something out of a design magazine.So, clearly, this mess wasn’t just a fluke.That realization ma

Rowan sat in silence for a bit, the flickering candlelight dancing between us. Outside, the storm continued to pound, filling the quiet with low, rumbling sounds. I could feel his gaze on me, uncertain and maybe even a little conflicted. Then, finally, he broke the silence."What do you mean it reminds you of your dad?" His voice was cautious, but there was a curiosity tucked beneath his attempt at indifference.I glanced up and for a heartbeat, it felt like he actually cared. But then he exhaled, rubbed the back of his neck, and muttered, "Not that I care or anything. I just—whatever. You brought it up."That familiar irritation bubbled up in my chest, but this time it was mixed with something else. I turned my gaze away, focusing on the flicker of the candle flame. "It doesn’t matter," I murmured. "Forget I said anything."He frowned, stepping closer as if he was about to say something more, but I quickly shook my head. My throat was tight, and