All Chapters of My Ex-Boyfriend is my New Step-Brother: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

107 Chapters

Hands Off

The wardrobe suite in the main building was a mausoleum of silk and tulle. Rolling racks of costumes for The Gilded Cage lined the walls, shrouded in protective plastic that crinkled like dry skin every time the air conditioning kicked on. The lighting was surgical—harsh, overhead LEDs that made every stitch on the garments look like a wire."The head of wardrobe is just grabbing the accessories from the vault," Leo Hart said, his voice smooth and too loud for the small dressing nook he’d led me into. "Why don’t you get into the first look? The white Victorian slip. We need to see how the fabric moves against your skin."He didn't leave. He stood by the velvet curtain, his hands tucked into the pockets of his linen trousers, watching me with a clinical, detached hunger."I’ll need a minute, Leo," I said, my voice steady despite the hammer of my heart. "Alone."He smiled—a slow, indulgent curve of his lips—and finally stepped back. "Of course. Privacy is the luxury of the star. I’ll be

The Red Dot

The air in the dressing nook was stagnant, charged with the kind of electricity that precedes a lightning strike. Roman’s forehead was still pressed against mine, his breathing a ragged, rhythmic heat against my skin. In the triple-mirror, we were a blur of white silk and black cotton—a portrait of two people who shouldn't exist in the same frame."Roman," I whispered, my fingers tightening in the fabric of his hoodie. "Why did you act like I was invisible today? You let Sienna say those things. You let her treat me like a servant."He didn't pull away. If anything, he leaned harder into my space, his hand sliding from my hair to the side of my neck, his thumb resting right over my pulsing carotid artery."Sienna isn't just a girl I go to school with, Scarlett," he muttered, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. "Her father is the majority shareholder in Reed Tech’s European division. Marcus didn't just 'suggest' we date; it’s a merger. She reports every move I make back to her father

Secret?

The soundstage felt like a pressure cooker. The crew had gone silent, scurrying into the corners like roaches in the light. Roman didn't let go of my arm immediately. He stood his ground, his body vibrating with a tension that felt like it could shatter the floorboards."There’s someone in here, Marcus," Roman said, his voice flat. "The lights didn't 'glitch.' Someone bypassed the board. And Scarlett saw someone behind the set."Marcus didn't even look at the rafters. He didn't look at the cage. He just stepped closer, his expensive shoes clicking with terrifying precision."Director Hart tells me you’ve been 'overseeing' the fitting since four o'clock," Marcus said, ignoring Roman's warning. "You’ve interfered with the wardrobe, you’ve intimidated the director, and now you’re disrupting a ten-thousand-dollar-an-hour lighting test. Do you have any idea how much this 'tantrum' is costing me?""I don't care about your money," Roman spat. "She was targeted. Right here. Under your 'fortre

Angel and Liars

The silence of the Malibu mansion was never truly quiet. It was a pressurized, expensive hum—the sound of high-end security systems, climate control, and the distant, rhythmic thud of the Pacific Ocean hitting the cliffs below. It was the sound of a gilded cage keeping the world out, or perhaps, keeping the prey in.I sat on the edge of my bed, my fingers trembling as I clutched the small, battered locket I’d kept hidden for three years. It was a cheap piece of silver, tarnished at the edges, containing nothing but a scrap of a movie ticket from a night when we were just two teenagers hiding from the world in a darkened theater.In the dim glow of my bedside lamp, the locket looked like a relic from a different life. A life before "The Angel," before the Reed merger, and before Marcus Reed had looked me in the eye and told me that the boy I once loved was a predator.“He only knows how to possess, Scarlett,” Marcus’s voice echoed in my skull, smooth and paternal, yet sharp as a razor.

The King’s Silence

The Social Blackout at Northcrest Academy didn't just feel like silence anymore; it felt like a physical weight. As I walked through the glass-domed quad, the student body parted like a sea of navy blazers and expensive perfume, leaving a ten-foot radius of isolation around me.I could feel the stares. The Studio Incident hadn't made the tabloids yet—Marcus was too good at his job for that—but the rumors had leaked through the staff. The word difficult was being whispered in the hallways. Unstable. The Angel with clipped wings.I kept my head down, my fingers tracing the strap of my bag. Underneath my skin, I could still feel the phantom heat of Roman’s hand on my wrist from last night. “Don’t trust me if you don’t want to,” he’d said. “But don’t you dare trust him.”"Well, if it isn't the girl of the hour."I froze. Zane Miller was leaning against my locker, his tie loosened and a smirk playing on his lips that signaled nothing but trouble. Zane was the only person at Northcrest who

Pretend You Hate Me

The athletic wing of Northcrest was a glass and steel tomb that smelled like expensive rubber and filtered oxygen. I walked down the hallway, my chest feeling like a zip-tie was being tightened around my lungs with every step.I had exactly forty-five minutes before Zane Miller expected me at the East Gate. Forty-five minutes to find Roman and figure out if Marcus’s new pet detective was just a scare tactic or the beginning of the end.I didn't bother knocking when I reached the private boxing suite. I just shoved the heavy door open.The room was dim, lit only by the blue hum of a sports drink fridge. Roman was there, shirtless, his back a map of tensed muscle as he absolutely unloaded on a heavy bag. Thud. Thud. Crack. He wasn't practicing form; he was trying to kill the thing. His knuckles were wrapped in white tape that was already starting to show red spots."Was it worth it?" I asked. My voice sounded small in the big, hollow room, but it stopped him cold.Roman caught the bag w

Three Minutes to Ruin

Zane’s car smelled like high-end leather and a heavy cologne that was trying too hard to be sophisticated. He drove the way he did everything else—with a bored, reckless arrogance that suggested he owned the asphalt under his tires. We were flying down the Pacific Coast Highway, the ocean a blurred smear of blue and gray to our right."You're very quiet, Scarlett," Zane said. He didn't take his eyes off the road, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He shifted gears, the engine roaring in a way that made the floorboards vibrate under my feet. "Most girls are screaming or taking selfies by the time we hit the third hairpin turn.""I’ve spent the last three years in front of cameras, Zane," I said, staring straight through the windshield. My hands were folded in my lap, my fingers gripping each other so hard my knuckles were white. "I know how to keep my face still. It’s part of the job."Zane laughed, a sharp, jagged sound that cut through the wind whistling past the windows.

After the Search

The silence in my room after the security team left was the kind that made your ears ring. Everything I owned had been touched, moved, or tossed. Marcus didn't just want my secrets; he wanted me to know that in this house, I didn't even own the air I breathed.The door pushed open. My mother, Lydia, was standing there with a glass of wine, her face tight and pale. She didn't look at the mattress hanging off the frame or my clothes piled on the floor. She looked at me with a pained, fragile sort of pity."I told him you wouldn't have anything," she said, her voice thin. "I told Marcus you were too smart to keep things that didn't belong to you anymore.""You told him?" I walked toward her, stepping over a heap of my own sweaters. "Or you helped him? Did you tell him about the vent, Mom? Or did you just stand in the hallway while they went through my life?"Lydia flinched. "He is trying to protect the merger, Scarlett. Everything we have depends on this deal going through. If Roman ruin

Security Upgrade

The power drill was my alarm clock.I woke up to a high-pitched whine vibrating through the door frame. I didn't check the time; I knew it was early because the light hitting the Pacific outside my window was still a sickly, bruised purple. I threw on a robe and pulled the door open, nearly hitting a man in a gray work shirt.Harris, Marcus’s head of security, was standing in the hall with a tablet. Two workers were crouched at my feet, screwing a heavy-duty electronic keypad into the mahogany frame. Above them, a black dome camera was already mounted, its red "power" light staring at me like an unblinking eye."What is this?" I asked. My voice was thick with sleep, but the adrenaline was already clearing it."Security upgrade," Harris said. He didn't look up from his tablet. "Per Mr. Reed’s orders.""It’s a bedroom, Harris. Not a vault.""In this house, they’re the same thing," Marcus’s voice came from the top of the stairs.He looked perfect. Not a hair out of place, charcoal suit p

The Pre-Gala Briefing

The red light on the keypad blinked. It was the only thing I could see in the dark. It felt like an eye. Marcus was watching. Even when he wasn't there, he was there.I didn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the power drill. I heard the click of the lock.At 7:00 AM, my door beeped. Someone else had typed in the code. I sat up, pulling the blanket to my chin.It was my mother. She had a tray with green juice and a small bowl of fruit. Behind her, Harris stood in the hallway like a stone statue."Time to get up, sweetie," Lydia said. She sounded like she was talking to a toddler. Her voice was too high. Too happy. "We have a big day. The gala fitting is tomorrow, but Marcus wants a full run-through of the family talking points this morning.""Talking points?" I asked. My voice was scratchy. "We’re a family, Mom. Not a press release.""In this house, there is no difference," Marcus said.He walked into the room. He didn't knock. He never knocked anymore. He looked at the dre

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