All Chapters of One Night Stand with My Stepdad: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw was the familiar, sterile white ceiling.The soft, rhythmic chime of the cardiac monitor hummed near my head, echoing off the pale walls. For a few lingering seconds, my brain felt shrouded in fog, heavy and disjointed, unable to piece together where I was or why my entire frame felt so thoroughly drained.Then the fog cleared, and I saw my mother sitting on the plastic chair right beside my bed.She was still dressed in the clothes from yesterday, though her jacket was draped over the back of the chair. Her usually immaculate appearance was frayed at the edges; dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, resting against her knees."Mom..." My voice came out as a low, dry rasp.Vanessa immediately leaned forward, her eyes widening as she searched my face. "Elena. You're awake."She reached for the small plastic cup of water on the bedside table, holding the straw to my lips. I swallowed greedily, the

Marcus arrived at the hospital later that afternoon, his dark coat sweeping past the heavy glass doors of the private wing. The sterile smell of antiseptic hung thick in the air, but his eyes locked onto Elena the second he entered the dim room.Chloe was still sitting beside the bed, her hands folded tightly over her lap, looking pale and exhausted.Marcus stepped closer, his boots making no sound against the rubberized floor. He paused at the foot of the bed, his gaze lingering on Elena’s frail frame before turning toward Chloe."You've done a lot for her," Marcus said, his deep voice carrying a quiet, weighted gratitude. "Thank you, Chloe. Truly."Chloe offered a small, weak nod, running a hand through her messy hair. She looked at Elena, whose eyes were fixed blankly on the IV bag dripping above her head."She's going through a lot," Chloe murmured, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of the secrets currently fracturing Elena's entire world. "More than anyone should have

Marcus's POVVanessa came upstairs, her designer heels clicking softly against the hardwood before coming to a complete stop outside the bedroom. Her usual composure was frayed around the edges, her sharp eyes wide with an underlying panic she was trying desperately to hide.She reached out and knocked twice, her gold rings tapping sharply against the polished wood."Elena, darling... please open the door," Vanessa called out, her voice tight and forced. "It's your mother. Let me in, sweetie."Nothing.Not a floorboard creaked; not a breath was drawn from the other side. The absolute stillness radiating from behind that dark wood was more deafening than a scream.Vanessa lowered her hand slowly, turning to look at me. The vulnerability in her expression was rare, calculated, but beneath it lay something genuinely terrified."She's upset," Vanessa murmured, her hand hovering awkwardly between us in the narrow corridor."I know," I said, my voice low and dark. I kept my arm casually bra

Marcus's POVThat night, standing in the dim light of the ground-floor study with a glass of untouched bourbon in my hand, I called Chloe."I need you to come over," I said the moment she picked up, my voice clipped and low.She sounded worried, her tone instantly sharpening through the speaker. "What happened? Is Elena okay? Did something happen with her blood work?""Elena hasn't eaten," I replied, running a tired hand over my jaw. "She's locked herself in her bedroom since we brought her home from the hospital. She won't open the door for me, and she won't open it for her mother. I need you here, Chloe.""I'll come right now," she said without hesitation, the background noise of her apartment cutting out as she grabbed her keys.When Chloe arrived twenty minutes later, her coat damp from the light drizzle outside, she didn't waste time on greetings. She headed straight up the grand staircase, her soft steps echoing against the runner.I waited at the bottom of the stairs, leaning b

Chloe's POVElena told me everything.Sitting on the edge of her plush velvet bed in the dark room, she unspooled the nightmare piece by piece, her voice barely louder than the rustle of the sheer curtains in the draft. She spoke in broken, trembling sentences, laying out the entire horrific sequence of events that had brought her to her knees.She told me about the hospital—the blinding fluorescent lights, the cold scent of antiseptic, and the sudden, terrifying realization when the doctors brought in the donor charts. She described the quiet, devastating scene when Arthur had walked into her room, his face stripped of all paternal warmth, replaced by a chilling, detached hatred that felt far worse than anger. He hadn't just turned his back on her; he had erased twenty-six years of memories as if she were nothing more than a failed business transaction.She told me about her mother—Vanessa standing at the foot of the bed, her face pale but her eyes cold, stubbornly refusing to answer