My Stepson's Blackmail Toy - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading My Stepson's Blackmail Toy, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of My Stepson's Blackmail Toy.
Vanessa Lombardi's screams tore through the night, shattering the silence from Room 603 below.
I bolted downstairs, Sophia Valrose hot on my heels—only to freeze at the nightmare before us.
My father, Richard Lowell, sat crumpled on the floor, a bloodied kitchen knife clutched in his trembling hands. His sobs were raw, desperate. The second his eyes locked onto mine, he unraveled completely.
"Ryan—thank God! You have to beli me! That bastard attacked Vanessa. He deserved what he got! I didn't kill him... he fell onto the knife! It was an accident!"
My gut twisted. I scanned the room—Vanessa clung to him, her dramatic sobs grating against my nerves.
Half a day. That's all it took for rything to go to hell.
But why was my father n here? Unless someone lured him…
Vanessa's handiwork, no question.
"Vincent! That's Vincent Deross!" Sophia's voice cracked as she pointed at the corpse.
Vanessa's ex-husband. Dead by my father's hand. This stank of a setup.
Before I could piece it together, cops swarmed in, sealing off the scene.
Then—
"There's another body in the bathroom!"
Ice shot through my veins.
Two officers hauled out a second corpse, draped in white. As they passed, a glint caught my eye—a necklace identical to the one I'd given Sophia earlier.
But Sophia was right beside me.
No. This couldn't be real.
Sophia's entire body seized. Then she lunged, ripping the sheet away.
The dead woman was her mirror image.
"Emma?! What—who did this to you?!" Sophia's scream was pure agony as she clutched the body, refusing to let go.
My legs nearly buckled. The woman I'd met earlier—Emma—had been wearing Sophia's necklace.
"My twin sister," Sophia choked out before whirling on Vanessa, eyes blazing. "You vicious bitch! I'll kill you for this!"
She snatched the knife from my father's grip and charged.
Vanessa barely dodged—the blade slashed her arm instead.
Cops wrestled Sophia down, but her screams didn't stop.
"Vanessa, you knew! When clients harassed me—when one raped me—you turned a blind eye! Then you made me your puppet, luring men for blackmail. But this? Murdering my sister? I swear, I'll destroy you!"
Vanessa went ghost-white, staring at Emma's body like she'd seen a ghost.
"Don't pin this on me! I didn't kill her!"
"Liar!" Sophia spat. "You set this whole thing up. You called Vincent here, played victim, and used Richard to kill him—because you were sick of him bleeding you dry for his gambling debts!"
Vanessa's mask finally cracked.
"Your sister died because of you! Did you think I cared about money? I hated him because he betrayed me—with you! You knew we were only separated, knew I still loved him! But you slithered into his bed anyway. The only regret? That it wasn't you lying dead!"
My father's face drained of color before fury took over.
"You used me to kill a man?! After rything I—" His voice broke. Then he collapsed.
I barely caught him. The hospital saved him—physically, at least.
But he was nr the same. He'd mutter Vanessa's name like a curse, a prayer.
The security footage cleared him. Three days later, Vanessa hanged herself in her cell. Sophia got locked away as an accomplice.
The real tragedy? Emma. She'd covered Sophia's shift that night—mistaken for her, dragged into that room. When Vincent came at her, she fought back. She nr knew about her sister's affair with him.
Vanessa hadn't n known Sophia had a twin.
The city seized our land. The Grandelle Inn was gone.
And my father? The man I knew died that night too. He lived out his days hollow, haunted by a woman who'd played him for a fool.
I bolted downstairs, Sophia Valrose hot on my heels—only to freeze at the nightmare before us.
My father, Richard Lowell, sat crumpled on the floor, a bloodied kitchen knife clutched in his trembling hands. His sobs were raw, desperate. The second his eyes locked onto mine, he unraveled completely.
"Ryan—thank God! You have to beli me! That bastard attacked Vanessa. He deserved what he got! I didn't kill him... he fell onto the knife! It was an accident!"
My gut twisted. I scanned the room—Vanessa clung to him, her dramatic sobs grating against my nerves.
Half a day. That's all it took for rything to go to hell.
But why was my father n here? Unless someone lured him…
Vanessa's handiwork, no question.
"Vincent! That's Vincent Deross!" Sophia's voice cracked as she pointed at the corpse.
Vanessa's ex-husband. Dead by my father's hand. This stank of a setup.
Before I could piece it together, cops swarmed in, sealing off the scene.
Then—
"There's another body in the bathroom!"
Ice shot through my veins.
Two officers hauled out a second corpse, draped in white. As they passed, a glint caught my eye—a necklace identical to the one I'd given Sophia earlier.
But Sophia was right beside me.
No. This couldn't be real.
Sophia's entire body seized. Then she lunged, ripping the sheet away.
The dead woman was her mirror image.
"Emma?! What—who did this to you?!" Sophia's scream was pure agony as she clutched the body, refusing to let go.
My legs nearly buckled. The woman I'd met earlier—Emma—had been wearing Sophia's necklace.
"My twin sister," Sophia choked out before whirling on Vanessa, eyes blazing. "You vicious bitch! I'll kill you for this!"
She snatched the knife from my father's grip and charged.
Vanessa barely dodged—the blade slashed her arm instead.
Cops wrestled Sophia down, but her screams didn't stop.
"Vanessa, you knew! When clients harassed me—when one raped me—you turned a blind eye! Then you made me your puppet, luring men for blackmail. But this? Murdering my sister? I swear, I'll destroy you!"
Vanessa went ghost-white, staring at Emma's body like she'd seen a ghost.
"Don't pin this on me! I didn't kill her!"
"Liar!" Sophia spat. "You set this whole thing up. You called Vincent here, played victim, and used Richard to kill him—because you were sick of him bleeding you dry for his gambling debts!"
Vanessa's mask finally cracked.
"Your sister died because of you! Did you think I cared about money? I hated him because he betrayed me—with you! You knew we were only separated, knew I still loved him! But you slithered into his bed anyway. The only regret? That it wasn't you lying dead!"
My father's face drained of color before fury took over.
"You used me to kill a man?! After rything I—" His voice broke. Then he collapsed.
I barely caught him. The hospital saved him—physically, at least.
But he was nr the same. He'd mutter Vanessa's name like a curse, a prayer.
The security footage cleared him. Three days later, Vanessa hanged herself in her cell. Sophia got locked away as an accomplice.
The real tragedy? Emma. She'd covered Sophia's shift that night—mistaken for her, dragged into that room. When Vincent came at her, she fought back. She nr knew about her sister's affair with him.
Vanessa hadn't n known Sophia had a twin.
The city seized our land. The Grandelle Inn was gone.
And my father? The man I knew died that night too. He lived out his days hollow, haunted by a woman who'd played him for a fool.
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