All Chapters of My Ex-Boyfriend is my New Step-Brother: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

79 Chapters

Eye in the Kitchen

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

Back to School

I didn't sleep at all after leaving the kitchen. I just sat on the edge of my bed, watching the clock until the sun came up. By 7:30 AM, the house was already moving. I could hear doors opening and closing, and the muffled sound of Marcus giving orders to someone downstairs.When I got to the front door, my mother was waiting. She was perfectly dressed, as usual, but she kept twisting her wedding ring around her finger—a nervous habit she’d picked up the second we moved in here."Your ride is ready, Scarlett," she said. She didn't look at me directly. She was busy checking the hallway. "Marcus wants you to go straight to school. No stops.""I know, Mom. I heard him yelling it last night."Two identical black SUVs were idling in the driveway, their exhaust thick in the morning air. Roman was already outside, standing by the first car with his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets. He looked exhausted. His hair was a mess, and he was staring at the gravel like he wanted to disappear

Back to School 2

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

Audition

The leather seat of the SUV felt like a block of ice against my legs. Outside, the palm trees of Los Angeles blurred into a hazy green smear against the tinted glass, but my eyes were fixed on the highlighted lines of the script in my lap.The Gilded Cage. The title was starting to feel less like a dramatic choice and more like a premonition. I tried to focus on the dialogue, but my mind kept spiraling back to the school hallway—to the way Roman had just adjusted his bag and walked away while Sienna tore into me. The immediate, heart-stopping terror of the stalker and the car chase from yesterday had settled into a dull, heavy ache in my chest, but the cold reality of the Reed mansion was louder. I was being watched by cameras at home, guarded by men in suits at school, and now I had to go be "perfect" for a room full of strangers."We’re ten minutes out, Ms. Wood," Harris said, his voice as flat as the asphalt."I know," I muttered, flipping a page. "I can see the GPS from the back s

Show Off

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

My Angel, That Was Amazing

The click of my bedroom door locking felt like a pathetic defense. In this house, locks were just suggestions. I kicked off my heels, the expensive silk hitting the hardwood with a dull thud, and caught my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling vanity mirror. I looked like the "Pure Angel" Marcus wanted, but my eyes were bloodshot and my hands were still shaking from the dinner.I had spent five years—every day since I turned seventeen—clawing my way up. I’d done the grueling commercial shoots, the bit parts in indie films, and the endless chemistry reads to build a name that belonged to me. And in one night, Marcus had turned that name into a subsidiary of Reed Industries.A soft, hesitant knock came from the door."Scarlett? Honey, can I come in?"I closed my eyes, a sharp spike of irritation hitting my chest. "The door’s locked, Mom.""I have the spare," she said softly.The lock turned—a reminder that privacy was a luxury I no longer owned—and my mother slipped inside. She had changed

Behind Locked Doors

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

A House Full of Strangers

The sun was barely a gray smudge over the Pacific when I crept out of Roman’s suite. My bare feet were silent on the cold marble, and every tiny rustle of my silk dress sounded like a gunshot in the dead quiet of the hallway. I didn't look back to see if he was still sitting in that chair by the door. I just needed to get behind my own locks before the house staff started their morning rounds.I made it. I spent an hour standing under a freezing shower, trying to scrub the scent of his cedarwood cologne and that cramped closet off my skin. By the time I dressed for school—black jeans and a sweater that felt like armor—I looked exactly like the "Pure Angel" the public expected.But my eyes were hollow, and my stomach was in knots.The breakfast nook was flooded with bright, unforgiving morning light. Marcus was already there, looking sharp in a charcoal suit, sipping espresso while he swiped through a tablet. My mother sat opposite him, her smile tight and perfectly painted on, though

Close Enough

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

Private Fitting

The leather seats of the SUV felt like a cage that was slowly shrinking. Outside, Malibu was a blur of high-end boutiques and sparkling ocean, but inside, the air-conditioning was humming a low, steady drone that made my ears ring.I pulled my phone from my bag, my thumb hovering over the screen. I shouldn't have looked. I knew better. But the notifications were a literal landslide.@AngelSource: FIRST LOOK! Scarlett Wood on the set of 'The Gilded Cage.' Is she the new face of the decade?I scrolled through the images. They were from yesterday—the screen test. Marcus had leaked them. He hadn’t waited for a contract, a press release, or even my consent. There I was, bathed in that blinding white light, looking fragile and ethereal. The comments were already piling up in the thousands."She looks like a literal angel." "Finally, a face that isn't manufactured."I wanted to laugh. I was the most manufactured thing in this city. Every "natural" curl in my hair, every "innocent" glance at

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