All Chapters of Don't Touch The Bride : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Miles “I told you she’s a genius—it’s insane. She beats me at chess every single time,” Gavin said as we walked out of the gym.“She didn’t come out to swim with the others. Think she’s overwhelmed?” I asked.“Cheryl’s introverted. She’s probably either napping or drawing,” he replied.“She draws?” I asked, surprised.Gavin stopped walking, gave me a look, then laughed. “Is she really your wife?”“Fuck off,” I said, brushing past him and heading to my room.When I opened the door, Chris was lounging on my couch, scrolling through his phone.“Chris, find Cheryl for me,” I said, already unzipping my gym bag to grab a towel.“Sure thing, sir,” he replied, standing and leaving the room without question.I showered quickly, changing into sweatpants as I dried my hair with a towel. I had just thrown the towel aside when Cheryl walked in, Chris following close behind. He gave a slight nod and excused himself, leaving us alone.Cheryl took one look at me, then immediately turned around, her

Cheryl Dia: I see you are living fine. Good for you. That was the message I received from my stepsister. No explicit threat in her words, but then again, any text from her should be considered a threat. The fact that I’m heading back to the dorms tomorrow feels like a setup—a perfect opportunity for her to unleash her malice on me. Am I a fool for willingly walking into her line of fire? Can I catch a break for just one week? To make matters worse, Mr. Han isn’t speaking to me. Don’t ask why because I honestly have no clue. At first, I thought he’d miss me when I wasn’t around the house or at work. After all, he kept asking if I was sure about staying in the dorms. Now, here I am, standing outside his room, debating whether to go in and tell him about my stepsister's text. He promised to protect me, didn’t he? “Mr. Han,” I called, stepping inside his room cautiously. “Cheryl, I’m busy. Can you come back later?” he said, his back turned to me as he worked at his desk. How does

Miles “Mr. Han,” Moses called again. If someone says my name one more time, I swear I’ll lose it. I raised a hand, cutting him off before he could continue. “No one speak to me—at least not today.” My tone was sharper than I intended as I stepped out of the elevator and into my office. I shrugged off my coat, tossing it onto the chair, and sank into my desk chair. Across from me, Chris was standing with his arms crossed, twisting his lips as if debating whether to speak. I shot him a look, silently warning him to think twice. Whatever he had to say could wait. I turned my attention to the sketches on my desk, trying to focus on designing the hardware for the next Tonyhan mobile phone. But it was futile. My thoughts kept drifting, veering toward places they shouldn’t. I thought avoiding Cheryl would help. I convinced myself that once she left for school, things would return to normal. That the dirty, intrusive thoughts I had whenever I looked at her would fade. But I was wrong. I

Cheryl My phone buzzed relentlessly under my pillow, worsening the dull throb in my head. Ever since I woke up in the school clinic with a concussion, headaches had become my unwelcome companion. So much for standing up to my bullies. If I’d run, I’d still have a perfect medical record—and no pounding headache to ruin my life.Reluctantly, I pushed myself up from the soft pillows, wincing at the effort, and fumbled for my phone. The screen lit up with a familiar name. Mr. Han.It was 10 p.m. What could he possibly want at this hour?“Mr. Han,” I groaned, pressing the phone to my ear.“Come outside,” he said simply.My brows furrowed. “Come outside where?”“Your dorm.”I snorted. “That’s where I nearly got my brain bashed in last time. Hard pass.”“Cheryl, come outside. Don’t play with me,” he said, his tone flat but commanding.I sighed, tossing the phone onto the bed before grabbing my jacket and smoothing down my hair. I stepped outside into the crisp night air, my breath puffing o

Miles The storm had jolted me awake, the wind howling and rain lashing into my room through the open window. How had I forgotten to close it? Groggy and disoriented, I stumbled out of bed and trudged toward the window.As I reached to shut it, something caught my eye—a figure in the lake behind the house, swimming under the storm.“What the…? Is that Cheryl?” I leaned closer, squinting against the rain.It was her. She was struggling to swim back to the shore. The storm was too strong.Adrenaline kicked in. I slammed the window shut and bolted downstairs, my heart pounding. Racing through the rain-soaked backyard, I made my way to the lake, the wind biting at my skin.“Cheryl? What the hell are you doing in the lake during a storm in the middle of the night?” I yelled, my voice barely carrying over the storm’s roar.“I’m fine,” she replied, stepping out of the water, shivering violently.“You’re not fine!” I snapped, scanning her drenched frame. She was wearing nothing but a black bi