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My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 241: Down The Rabbit Hole
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We followed him down the corridor, the house growing quieter and chillier as we went deeper. Logan’s study was just what I’d expected: dark wood paneling, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a massive desk that looked more like a throne, everything arranged with military-like precision.
We spread out and started searching the filing cabinets, desk drawers, shelves, even the locked boxes that Ethan somehow knew the combinations for. But the more we dug, the clearer it became: Logan had been thorough.
Important documents were missing entire sections, files suspiciously incomplete, anything that could have been incriminating had vanished ages ago. The room wasn’t chaotic like it had been when Ethan describe it earlier; instead, it felt intentionally bare, stripped down, sanitized.
The absence of anything useful was louder than any smoking gun.
I straightened up from the last drawer I’d checked, frustration tightening in my throat.
"We’ve looked everywhere," I said, wiping dust off my palms. "There’s nothing here. We should probably wrap this up and search somewhere else before someone notices the lights of this room is on."
Ethan nodded, looking as defeated as I felt. "Yeah. Let’s—"
Adrien raised a hand, freezing us mid-sentence. He was staring at the old desktop computer on the corner of the desk, the one that looked ancient next to everything else, dusty and almost forgotten. His green eyes narrowed, something igniting behind them.
"We haven’t checked everything," he said quietly.
Ethan and I turned to follow his gaze, and just like that, the room felt smaller, the air heavier, and the possibility of answers suddenly alive again in the dim glow of a machine nobody had bothered to throw away.
Logan’s study felt heavy and stale, almost like we were all holding our breath for some endless stretch of time. Maybe we were, sneaking in through the side door after dark, with our hearts racing like we were in a bad heist movie where the heroes just keep tripping over themselves.
Ethan was hunched over at the computer, his fingers darting across the keyboard with a frantic energy that hinted at all the twisted history he had with his uncle. He was trying one password after another, each one dredging up memories from the darkest corners of his mind.
I stood right behind him, close enough to feel the tension radiating off Adrien, who was beside me, as the three of us huddled in this dimly lit room that smelled a bit of aged leather and pricey bourbon, the kind Logan probably sipped while scheming his next move.
With each failed attempt, that annoying red "Access Denied" flashed on the screen, and I noticed Ethan’s shoulders tightening, his jaw set firmly, making him look older than he really was.
Finally, on what must have been the sixth or seventh try (I’d lost track after the fourth, my mind drifting to ridiculous backup plans like "what if we just smash this thing and run?"), the screen sprang to life.
The lock screen vanished, revealing Logan’s neatly organized desktop. A stunned silence fell over the room, the only sound was the soft hum of the hard drive waking up. My heart raced louder in my ears, drowning out everything else. For a split second, Ethan froze, breath catching in his throat before he leaned in closer, navigating through folders and icons with the skill of someone who’d done this before, maybe during secret rebellions while living under Logan’s thumb. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚
Adrien hovered at Ethan’s side, eyes narrowed intently, while I leaned in too, my stomach twisting with a mix of anticipation and dread, each click sounding more like a countdown.
We dove right into the email client, and at first, the inbox was just a sea of typical business emails, contracts, meeting requests, the same old corporate chatter that made Logan’s life seem polished and dull like his hotel suite.
But Ethan knew exactly where to look, his instincts guiding him to a subfolder called "Archives," buried deep enough to scream "don’t touch this unless you want trouble." That’s when we found it, hiding among a few encrypted files: a recent exchange with an anonymous sender.
The subject line was ironically bland "Pending Discussion"...but the words within were anything but. The tone was cold and business-like, as if they were negotiating a real estate deal instead of something far more sinister. As we scrolled through, I felt like I was getting hit in the gut.
Logan had written about keeping "the secret" tucked away for years, mentioning he’d received almost nothing in return for his silence.
His words dripped with a bitter entitlement that made my skin crawl, revealing his silence had been a bargaining chip all along, one he wasn’t willing to offer for free anymore. The anonymous reply was careful and clipped, asking what exactly he wanted.
Logan’s chilling response, fifteen million dollars, discreetly and quickly transferred, or everything about Joanne Fell would be exposed, no consequences spared...sent a shiver down my spine.
The last message arranged a face-to-face meeting soon to sort out the details, and suddenly, the weight of those implications crashed over us like a wave, pulling us under in horror.
Ethan turned ghostly pale, his face losing color so quickly I thought he might actually faint in that swivel chair. His blue eyes widened in shock that, surpassed anything I’d seen before...beyond the guarded vulnerability from the earlier fights with Adrien.
He stared at the screen as if it had betrayed him personally, his hands trembling slightly on the mouse, and I could see the last fragile thread of denial snap inside him, unraveling the years of forced acceptance that his uncle was just an abuser, just a monster who had shaped his life with fists and words, but never something this cruel.
"This... this can’t be real," he muttered, his voice cracking as he shoved himself back from the desk, the chair scraping against the wooden floor as he stood up and paced a few shaky steps toward the door, running a hand through his messy hair.
"I knew he was a bastard, physically, emotionally, every way you can imagine..
but murder? Blackmail? No. He wouldn’t... he couldn’t..." His words faded into a disbelieving laugh that sounded more like a sob, and before I could reach out or say anything, he stormed out from the room, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft thud that echoed in the sudden quiet.
Adrien, on the other hand, collapsed into the nearest chair, as if his legs couldn’t hold him anymore, his broad shoulders sagging under the weight of everything. His face twisted in distress and simmering anger, making my heart ache just watching him.
He buried his face in his hands for a moment, fingers digging into his dark hair. When he lifted his head, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears, his jaw set so tight I worried he might crack a tooth.
"I knew it," he whispered, voice thick with a rage that had been building for years. "I always knew it wasn’t just an accident. Mom didn’t... she wouldn’t have..."
He trailed off, staring at the screen where the emails still glowed accusingly, piecing together the horrifying reality, his mother’s death tangled up in secrets and payoffs, Logan not just a negligent lawyer but an active participant, demanding money from some anonymous figure to keep some truth buried.
It wasn’t just one crime anymore; it was a whole web of extortion and power plays, a secret so explosive it was worth millions to silence, and here we were, staring right at its heart.







