All Chapters of My Fake Sister Took Everything: Now It’s My Turn : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

“Uh… around the West Union axis,” I say, my voice faltering slightly. His brow furrows, and I can sense the question forming in his mind. The West Union area was known for little more than a market square and an organization building—definitely not somewhere you'd expect someone like me to be headed at this hour. But, thankfully, he doesn’t push any further. I’m relieved.The rain picks up, drumming harder against the windshield, transforming from a gentle shower into a relentless downpour. It’s almost impossible to see the road ahead. “Shit,” he mutters, pulling over to the side. The smell of leather from his car and the intoxicating blend of his scent invades my senses, wrapping around me like an invisible blanket. It’s... overwhelming, almost intoxicating. The silence between us grows, thick with tension. I shift in my seat, hyper-aware of every breath, every beat of my heart. The rain outside beats in rhythm with my pulse, and I can’t shake the feeling of being trapped—not by th

"I'm so sorry, it won’t happen again," I say, my voice barely above a whisper as I stare at my feet, shame prickling at my skin."Don't tell me that. That’s what you always say," Paula snaps, it is quite obvious she is in a sour mood today. I can feel her eyes burning holes into me, and though it's not entirely my fault, I can't bring myself to argue. I overslept."Get to work," she orders with a dismissive wave of her hand, and I move quickly, the weight of my exhaustion pressing down on me like a heavy blanket. All day, I feel sluggish, and waves of nausea ripple through me. I force it down, clutching at my stomach when no one is looking. ****Later******The evening rush has hit, and the café is swarming with customers. The hustle and bustle makes my head spin, but I keep pushing forward, the thought of the weekend barely enough to keep me going. ‘Tomorrow’, I tell myself. Tomorrow I can rest. Or maybe not—I still need to search for another job. We need extra income, and our savin

One thing I respect about him is that he never pushes—he respects boundaries. I think he must’ve noticed the hesitation on my face because he didn’t press me further. “Th… thank you,” I murmur, watching him stand up, his broad back retreating toward the desk. Cocky bastard. He doesn’t even bother turning around as he waves me off dismissively. Why is he even here today? He hardly shows up. God knows what might’ve happened if Mr. Hawthorne hadn’t walked in when he did. I shudder at the thought. The rumors would’ve been endless—my haters would’ve had a field day. At least I was validated this time, but it still feels like I narrowly dodged something worse.As I walk out of the office, I head straight for my usual spot. Geez, I’ve got so much to tell Maryam about her so-called "MCM." That’s what she calls him. Every time I complain about Thorn, she brushes me off, saying, “But he’s hot, so everything he does is valid,” As if good looks justify everything.Her favorite line? “There’s a

It is Monday already. I was heading to work, the weight of the weekend still heavy on my shoulders. The agent had shown us places way outside our budget, and it was a struggle—honestly, a draining, frustrating struggle. We wanted a decent place, something that didn’t look like it would fall apart with one strong breeze. But our budget had us cornered, leaving us at the mercy of what little we could afford.We had to settle for something in a lower-class neighborhood—a ghetto, really. But it wasn’t too bad, considering the other places we were shown. It was decent enough, and that’s all we could ask for. Two bedrooms, small but comfortable. At least Maryam and I would have our own spaces. It wasn’t much, but it was something. We’ll move in completely tonight, scraping by with just mattresses. Sofas, home décor, and the little touches would come later, once we could save up again. One step at a time."Good morning," I greeted the watchman as I entered work. His smile was warm as he ans

Daphne’s POV“Wh... what if—”“Shhh, nothing is happening,”Maryam says, projecting a calmness I didn’t know she possessed. “Nothing will happen to you, as long as I’m here. No one can hurt you.” The weight of those words hung in the air, but the truth was that my heart raced with uncertainty and insecurity. “But Nate… he saw me. He knows I’m alive.” Maryam’s hands trembled as she handed me a glass of water, the liquid sloshing slightly as she passed it to me. We sat on the cold, empty floor of our new apartment, the chill seeping through my clothes and into my bones. I had looked forward to this day, the promise of a fresh start, a chance to escape the shadows of my past. But now, as I surveyed the barren walls and the unadorned space, it felt like none of it mattered. The excitement I had envisioned seemed to evaporate, replaced by an overwhelming sense of loss. I couldn’t shake the feeling that joy had slipped through my fingers like sand.I had dreamed of this moment—of new begi