Todos os capítulos de Dirty Stepbrother: Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

The clicking of Elena’s heels against the marble floor grew louder as she moved toward the back hallway. I couldn't stay on the open landing.If she looked up even once, the light from the entrance would show my shadow leaning over the iron railing.I turned and moved backward into the dark guest corridor, my boots sliding silently across the thick carpet.My mind was spinning out of control. The sunroom wall safe. The papers were right below me, but the woman who killed my father was walking straight toward them.Instead of running back to my bedroom to hide like a coward, I turned toward the narrow doorat the very end of the hall.It was the old servants' staircase, a tight, twisting set of wooden steps that led directly down to the pantry right next to the sunroom corridor. It was dark, dusty, and nobody used it anymore.I opened the wooden door with a tiny click and slipped inside, closing it gently behind me.The air inside the service stairs was freezing, smelling of old wood a

Sebastian stood right in front of me like a solid wall, his large shadow completely blocking theyellow glare of the flashlight.I could hear his heavy, frantic breathing shaking his entire chest. He didn't look back at me, buthis large hand reached behind his hip, his fingers twitching as if he desperately wanted to touch me and make sure I was still breathing.The raw tension in his body was terrifying. He was completely unprotected in his torn blackshirt, his broad shoulders squared right at the black barrel of the revolver in Elena’s hand."Step aside, Sebastian," Elena said. Her voice didn't even shake. She kept the gun pointedstraight at his chest, her eyes wide and black. "This doesn't concern you anymore. Your father already handled you last night. Don't throwyour life away over a boy who just used you to get into my house.""I said get away from him," Sebastian growled. His voice was a low, vibrating animal rasp thatsounded like it was scraping against the bones of his b

The wheels of the stretcher clicked loudly against the clean linoleum floor of the emergency room hallway. The transition from the freezing morning fog to the bright, blinding lights of the hospital made my eyes burn. Nurses in light blue scrubs hurried past us, their rubber-soled shoes squeaking against the floorboards, while the distant, mechanical beep of heart monitors filled the air.Sebastian walked right alongside the cot, his large hand still locked around mine. He refused to look at the hospital staff. His dark eyes were fixed completely on the two detectives in trenchcoats who had just stepped away from the sliding glass doors to block our path.The older detective, a man with gray hair and a tired face, held up a leather wallet showing agold police shield."Jae Montgomery? Sebastian Vaughn? I’m Detective Miller, County Major Crimes. We need to secure the physical evidence immediately."His eyes dropped straight to the thick black leather book wedged under Sebastian’s arm.

The interrogation lasted for three hours, and by the time Marcus Vance finally closed his legalpad, my throat felt coated in ash.Two detectives had stood on the other side of the yellow curtain, listening through the gap as I walked Vance through every single detail of thenight. I told him about the splintered wood on the sunroom frame, the heavy weight of Archer’s hand on my collarbone, the smell of the gunpowder, and the flat, dead look in my mother’s eyes when she pulled the trigger.Vance didn't show any emotion. He just nodded, his expensive fountain pen scratching acrossthe paper, capturing the legal reality of my broken family."The county prosecutor will use this to block Archer’s bail hearing at noon," Vance said,snapping his leather briefcase shut. The brass locks clicked loudly in the quiet room. "Betweenthe embezzlement routing numbers Sebastian leaked and your physical injuries, they haveenough to hold him under maximum security. Your mother won't even be considere

The neon green light from my phone screen faded, leaving the corner of the hospital room dark again. I stood by the metal hook, my fingers frozen against the cold glass of the device.My breath felt trapped in my throat, a sick, heavy knot twisting deep in my stomach.Look inside the lining of your old hockey duffel bag in the sunroom.Even from a holding cell down at the county precinct, my mother was still pulling the strings.She had timed the message perfectly.She waited until the adrenaline from the arrest had washed away, until we were sitting in thesterile quiet of this hospital room, thinking we had finally won, before dropping another bombdirectly into my lap."Jae?" Marcus Vance asked, his silver eyebrows pulling together as he watched me stare at thescreen."Who is that text from?"Sebastian’s head turned quickly on the pillow. His dark eyes locked onto my face, his chesttensing behind the hospital gown as he noticed how pale I had gone. He reached for his phoneon the