Chay007

Lesly was just your typical kind of sadistic high school gym teacher, having her idyllic life disturbed when she was taken away by this strange butler, who informed her about her being the true heiress of a fallen family. 
That wasn't all; he was asking her to sign the papers to marry a husband whom she had never met before.
Normally, she would have run away and reported them to the police—if it weren't for them threatening her with the (for her) most important hostage.

On her first day in the villa of her new husband, she barged in on her stepson, intertwined with a brunette girl, not stopping to do the deed just because of her presence.
Clearly a psycho.

Next was the husband, who enticed her with money if she stayed for a year, slept in his bed, and played his wife. 
Lesly decided to go through with it for the good ol' money - however, after being introduced properly to her psycho stepson with ravishingly handsome looks, she had a feeling that things in this house would develop in a dangerous direction.

And she should be proven right.

First Volume: 'The Burning Man' is finished! I am going on hiatus with this because it was a hell of a ride for me as well. I think the big unveiling is done now, and I hope I answered most of the questions. I have a few ideas in mind for the second volume, but I wanted to write something new. The author is unpredictable, so maybe I take it on tomorrow again, but right now, I don't know.

Thanks for all your support!
(*ˊᗜˋ*)/ᵗᑋᵃᐢᵏ ᵞᵒᵘ*

My Psycho Stepson and me

The cat was fed and cuddling with me, the light was out, and I lay in the bed with my underwear because the hotel didn't provide nightwear and I forgot to buy some.

I stared at the ceiling that would light up every time a car drove by on the street.

"What is this shitty hotel." No one answered me...luckily, as I would be scared to death if someone did. The room again was lit up, and I turned my head to look at the see-through curtains that were definitely misused in this room.

Thinking about the big cat, I asked myself what he was doing, and if he was sad because he couldn't go and live out his lunacy, aka stare at me. I wanted to comb through his hair again; I hate to admit it, but his fur was way more comfortable than that of my cat.

As if it heard my thoughts, I received a bite. Holding my finger up into the light beam from the next car's headlights, I observed how a drop of blood emerged from the shallow wound.

83. Superpowers, Mice and Math