My Ex-Boyfriend is my New Step-Brother のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

The mansion was never truly silent. It hummed with the sound of the industrial AC and the faint, rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the ghost of Roman’s arm around my waist from the motel, followed immediately by the memory of Marcus’s security hammering on the door.I gave up at 2:00 AM. My throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper, and the expensive bottled water in my mini-fridge was empty.I crept down the stairs, my bare feet silent on the cold marble. I didn't turn on the lights. I didn't need to. The moon was hitting the floor-to-ceiling windows, turning the kitchen into a room of silver and deep blue shadows.I stopped in the doorway.Roman was sitting at the massive marble island. He was just sitting there in a grey hoodie, staring at a bowl of cereal he hadn't even started. He looked younger in the dark, less like the "Blacklisted King" and more like the boy who used to wait for me after rehearsals

The English Lit lecture felt like a fever dream. The teacher was droning on about "the tragedy of the unspoken" in some old play, but my mind was miles away, stuck in the kitchen at 2:00 AM. I kept seeing the way the light hit that small, dome camera on the ceiling—the way it whirred and rotated to follow us.The immediate, heart-stopping terror of the car chase and the drone from yesterday had started to settle into a dull, heavy ache. I was still cautious, flinching every time a car followed us too closely on the way to school, but the walls of the mansion felt thicker now. Marcus had made it clear that we were "protected," even if that protection felt more like a prison sentence. The threat from the outside was still there, lurking in the back of my mind, but the threat from the inside—the cameras, the master keys, the silent war between Roman and his father—was what kept me from breathing.The bell finally cut through the silence of the classroom. I didn't wait for the teacher to

The drive back to the Malibu estate was a suffocating exercise in silence. Harris didn’t mention the script again, and I didn't offer a single detail about the audition. I just watched the sun dip lower over the Pacific, casting long, bruised shadows across the highway. I had been an actress since I was fifteen, long before my mother ever met a billionaire, but sitting in the back of this armored SUV, I felt like a beginner again—one who had just been bought and paid for.When we pulled through the massive iron gates, the mansion was glowing. It didn't look like a home; it looked like a set prepared for a performance I hadn't rehearsed for."We’re here, Ms. Wood," Harris said, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror as he killed the engine. "Mr. Reed is expecting you in the dining room. He’s already started the toast.""I haven't even changed out of my audition clothes, Harris," I said, looking down at my rumpled shirt. "I need ten minutes.""He said the 'work-worn' look adds to the authe

The door hadn’t even fully clicked shut before Roman’s hand was a vice around my arm. He didn’t say a word, his face set in a hard, lethal mask as he hauled me toward the back of his suite. We blew past the bed and the sleek furniture, heading straight for the heavy walk-in closet."Roman, let go—you're actually hurting me," I hissed, trying to wrench my wrist back."Shut up for a second," he muttered, his voice low and sharp.He pushed aside a row of his structured black jackets and shoved me into the far corner of the closet. He didn't stop until we were pressed against the back wall, surrounded by the scent of his cologne and leather."The microphones in the hallways are high-frequency," he whispered, his face inches from mine in the dim light. "Marcus has the sensitivity turned all the way up. He can hear a whisper from across the foyer if the house is quiet enough. But back here? Behind the stone and the shelving? He can’t hear a thing."He snatched the polaroid from my hand. He

The air in the main hallway of Northcrest Academy always smelled the same: expensive floor wax, pressurized oxygen, and the faint, metallic tang of old money. Usually, that smell made me feel like I was finally part of something. Today, it felt like the scent of a refrigerated vault.As I walked toward my locker, the "Social Blackout" was a physical force. It wasn’t that people were whispering about me; it was that they weren't. When I turned a corner, a group of senior girls stopped mid-sentence, their faces going blank as they looked through me like I was made of glass. One of them didn't even move her bag out of the way; I had to sidestep her to avoid being tripped.I reached my locker and leaned my forehead against the cold metal for a second. My skin felt raw, sensitized by the memory of Roman’s hands in the closet and the ice in his eyes at the gate.Clang.The locker next to mine slammed shut. I didn't have to look to know who it was. The scent of French peony and ozone gave he