All Chapters of Forced to Marry My Stepbrother: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

*** Raven ***Janice’s unease was palpable, a dark cloud hovering over her usual sharp demeanor. She stood in the corner, her fingers gripping the wine glass like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. My eyes narrowed as I tried to piece together what had shaken her so deeply. The flowers—those damned flowers—were a piece of the puzzle, a clue to the stalker who had been lurking in the shadows. But before I could dig deeper, the door opened, and Anthony and Maggie walked in.Hyacinth greeted them with her usual warmth, but my stomach churned. Their arrival felt... calculated. My plan was unraveling, and I didn’t like it.The evening pressed on, the room filling with laughter and the clinking of glasses. My mother and Hyacinth had outdone themselves with finger snacks and drinks, creating an atmosphere that felt almost too perfect. Eino, ever the social butterfly, was already deep in conversation with my friends, his familiarity with Anthony raising my suspicions. Venla, graceful

**Raven**The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the house. I was already on edge after Irene handed me that letter, “This is surprisingly yours, sir.” Irene said. The single black rose in the bouquet for Hyacinth sent a chill down my spine. A black rose meant something dark. Whoever sent it knew too much, and I wasn’t about to let anything threaten my wife. I slid the letter into my pocket, determined to deal with it later.“That’s for Hyacinth,” I pointed to the bouquet. “Burn it.” “Yes, sir.” She nodded and went back to the guard’s house while I went back inside the house. I went close by the windowsill and watched as they lit up As I turned, Hyacinth descended the stairs, her hair tousled from sleep, her eyes still heavy with drowsiness. She was breathtaking, even in her half-awake state. I met her at the bottom step, pulling her into my arms. Her lips met mine, soft and warm, and for a moment, the world faded away. But of course, Patricia had to

*** Hyacinth ***The drive back to the main city was a blur of passing lights and idle chatter, but the moment we stopped by BGC, the air shifted. Conti’s cafe stood there, a familiar haven, and the promise of Mango Bravo ice cream was enough to lift my spirits. But as soon as I stepped out of the car, my heart stuttered. There they were—Venla, her tall, elegant frame impossible to miss, and Rose, her laughter ringing out like a bell. They stood there, shopping bags in hand, sharing a moment that felt too intimate for my comfort. My stomach twisted. Rosie’s presence always spelled trouble, and the thought of her whispering venom into Venla’s ear made my chest tighten. Venla would tell Eino, and then… I shook my head, trying to dispel the anxiety clawing at me. “No,” I told myself. “I shouldn’t care.”Patricia nudged me, her touch grounding. “Come on,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “Let’s get the cake.” I followed her into the store, my eyes darting back to the glass wall where

***Raven***I don’t have concrete evidence that Anthony is the one behind the assault on the private investigator. He’s currently in the hospital, and we’ve already collected his statement. The investigator also found a sample of Anthony’s handwriting, which I sent for forensic analysis. The results were inconclusive—while the handwriting matched, there were peculiarities in each stroke. The forensic expert Janice consulted pointed out that handwriting can be replicated, and some people even share similar styles naturally. But would Hyacinth’s stalker go to such lengths to deceive me? It’s a question that gnaws at the edges of my mind, leaving me restless.“Raven,” Hyacinth’s voice broke through my thoughts, soft and drowsy. I thought she was asleep, but she sat up, her arms wrapping around my back in a warm, sleepy embrace. “You’re still awake.”“Sorry, babe,” I murmured, turning to face her. Her eyes were half-lidded, her hair tousled from sleep, and her expression a mix of concern

***Rosie***I never had seen anyone get her attention so much. She’s like a child getting pampered. I know exactly how it works. Just a little manipulation, a few well-placed words, and she could get whatever she wanted. But what caught my attention more was the ring she’s wearing now. It was gaudy, really—full of colors, rare gems, and that obnoxious diamond in the middle. It screamed desperation, as if she needed to prove something to the world. Or maybe just to herself. “It seems that you are not enjoying it much,” Venla commented in her crisp British accent. “I see you like it loud and drinking more…” “Yes,” I said, my voice dripping with feigned boredom. “It’s kind of boring here, isn’t it?” I asked her, though I knew she wouldn’t answer. She’s too polite, too refined to admit the truth. I smiled lopsidedly, my eyes flicking to that *doctor*, the dermatologist I’ve been trying to book an appointment with. He’s currently engrossed in some mindless video game with that blonde man,