All Chapters of Forced to Marry My Stepbrother: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

***Raven***I was pleasantly surprised when my wife greeted me at the door, wearing an adorable apron and a warm smile. She helped me remove my coat and necktie, her hands gentle and efficient. She even made sure I slipped into my home shoes, leaving my dirty ones by the rack until they were clean enough to be stored in our shoe closet. She handed me a damp, hot towel to clean my hands, her touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Then, with a playful grin, she led me to the round table near the balcony, where the city lights sparkled like a sea of stars. The soft hum of romantic music filled the air, and the flickering candles added a touch of magic to the scene. Patricia, Seth, and Irene were eating in the dining room, but my wife had prepared something special for just the two of us. She looked stunning in an olive green dress, her hair twisted into a low, messy bun. My mind wandered to all the things I wanted to do with her tonight, but for now, I focused on the momen

***Raven***I forced myself to stay seated during the meeting, even though every fiber of my being screamed to leave. Hyacinth had assured me she was fine, but the unease gnawed at me. My partners and our business dealings were important—crucial, even—but nothing mattered more than my wife. “I’m sorry, but I need to leave immediately. There’s an emergency,” I said, rising from my chair. My voice was steady, but my heart raced.Colton Pines, the first of the three partners I’d met who shared my passion for rare gems, leaned back in his chair, his tone casual. “What’s going on?”“My wife needs me,” I replied, my words clipped.“Wife?” Dane’s head snapped up, his expression a mix of surprise and mock offense. “You got married without inviting us?” His voice rose, and I raised a hand to silence him, my jaw tightening.Minerva, ever the dramatic, rolled her eyes and pushed her fiery red hair back. “Oh, bummer. Guess we’re not important enough for wedding invitations.”“I’ll introduce you

***Hyacinth***I sat in my swivel chair, my mind racing as I tried to figure out what to do next. My imagination spiraled with ideas on how to catch that *bastard*. Restlessness gnawed at me, and sleep felt impossible. I glanced at my husband, Raven, who was hunched over his computer, laser-focused as he made yet another call. It was well past midnight, and here we were, still tirelessly checking on our friends back in the Philippines.“Raven,” I called out softly. He paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard, and turned to look at me. Our eyes locked, and for a long moment, we just stared at each other. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat. “Never mind,” I muttered, looking away as I turned back to my laptop. I could feel his gaze lingering on me, heavy with unspoken concern.In that moment, I couldn’t help but wish I had run away with Raven years ago. I wished there were no stalkers, no threats, no shadows lurking in our lives. Why did this person want

***Hyacinth***It all happened so quickly, like a whirlwind tearing through our lives. We arrived at the airport to meet the private plane Raven had sent to transport Cal to a specialized facility. The place they chose was renowned for its state-of-the-art care, the best money could buy. Cal was still unconscious, trapped in a coma, and the sight of him lying there, so fragile, was a dagger to my heart. Kelly, too, was suffering, left behind in her own hospital bed. Despite our pleas, Uncle Hayden insisted she remain there, though I couldn’t shake the guilt of leaving her alone.The hospital where Kelly was staying was top-tier, but the facility Cal was being moved to offered even more personalized attention. We ensured he was settled into a VIP suite, with a dedicated nurse monitoring him around the clock. I stood by, watching as they adjusted his IVs and checked his vitals. His eyes fluttered open a few times, only to close again moments later. It was progress, albeit small. He even

***Hyacinth***After the conference, my father’s gaze lingered on me in a way that made my skin crawl. It was unsettling, unfamiliar. He had never looked at me like that before—was it guilt? Regret? I couldn’t tell, and I didn’t care to decipher it. My heart was a fortress, hardened by years of suspicion and pain. How could I forgive him when I was convinced he had a hand in my mother’s death? The thought clawed at me, relentless. He had always been more interested in her wealth than in her. I knew it. My mother and grandmother had hidden their assets from him for a reason. They saw what I now see—a man driven by greed, not love.And then there were the insurance settlements. I was certain he had profited from her death. The pieces were falling into place, memories resurfacing like shards of glass. Rosie, his favorite, had been spoiled rotten. I remembered the horse he bought her shortly after Mom’s death. A horse Rosie had beaten to death in a fit of rage after falling off it. The im