My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 77: Trust (BC)

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I blinked at him, still trying to wrap my head around what he just said. He looked so relaxed about it, like handing over a stunning lakeside property was as simple as offering me a piece of gum. My mouth must’ve been hanging open because Adrien couldn’t help but smirk, clearly finding my reaction entertaining.

"Wait," I finally managed to say, shaking my head in disbelief. "You’re serious, aren’t you? You’d really just give me an entire cabin mansion and a forest like it’s nothing?"

He shrugged, his demeanor annoyingly casual. "Yeah. Why not? You seem to enjoy it here more than I do."

"Adrien, that’s crazy," I said, getting up from the rocking chair. "Do you even get how big this place is? The land alone has to be worth—" I trailed off, helplessly waving my arms at the endless trees and the lake spread out before us.

It could be worth millions!

"This isn’t just a tiny cabin in the woods. It’s a whole property. You can’t just hand something like this over to me."

He chuckled softly, clearly entertained by my flustered state. "Chill, princess. No need to sign anything just now." His smirk grew as he leaned against one of the porch beams. "But think about it—you could bring your golden boy here, live out your cute romantic fantasies in the woods. No noise, no drama, just you and Ethan, the ultimate couple of dumb losers in your little love nest."

I groaned, half laughing and half annoyed. "You’re such an idiot."

Adrien grinned. "You’re welcome, by the way. I’m giving you peace, love, and isolation. An ending straight out of a fairytale."

"What you’re really offering me is a headache," I said, rolling my eyes, though I couldn’t hide the small laugh that slipped out.

He laughed softly, the sound somehow warm. But just when I thought the teasing would keep going, his expression shifted. The playful spark in his eyes faded, replaced by something quieter—more uncertain. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out.

It was the journal.

My stomach dropped a bit as I recognized it instantly, Joanne’s journal. The one I’d found.

"I read a few pages last night," Adrien said, his tone now serious, his gaze fixed on the well-worn leather cover. He turned it over in his hands, seeming unsure of how to start. "You mentioned yesterday that... you thought there might be more to her death."

I swallowed, feeling my heart race.

He finally met my eyes. "Be honest with me," he said quietly. "Do you genuinely think my mom’s death wasn’t an accident?"

The way he asked—I could tell it wasn’t just curiosity. There was fear in his voice, a quiet hope that maybe he wasn’t wrong to sense that something about his mother’s death was off.

I hesitated, unsure how much truth he really wanted. But I owed him honesty now. "No," I said softly, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. "I don’t think it was an accident. At least, not entirely."

He frowned slightly, waiting.

"I think someone might’ve been after her," I continued cautiously. "The note she wrote to you in it...it wasn’t written by someone paranoid or delusional. It came from a woman who was scared for her life. She mentioned that people didn’t believe her because of her anxiety and depression, but..." I trailed off, watching the tension tighten his jaw. "I believe her. Whoever she was scared of, I think they found her before she could escape."

Adrien stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. His fingers brushed over the journal cover again, his thumb tracing the indentations of the pen marks underneath the leather.

"So you think someone killed her," he finally said, his voice low, like the words themselves were hard to get out.

I nodded, remembering the newspaper article in the old study back at Oakfield. "I believe there’s more to the story than what you were told."

For a moment, we were both silent. The breeze stirred through the trees again, whistling softly against the porch railing, and I noticed his expression darken slightly as he gazed out at the lake. His eyes, once a bright green in the sunlight, seemed distant, clouded with confusion and a touch of anger.

"Maybe you’re right," he murmured after a while, his voice nearly lost to the wind. "And maybe I’ve just been too scared to believe that all this time."

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just stood there beside him, the sounds of the forest filling the silence between us, both staring at the same horizon but caught up in completely different storms.

Adrien’s focus lingered on the journal like it held some sacred weight. The longer he gazed, the darker his expression became, and for the first time since I’d met him, I could see the walls he’d built around himself trembling just a little. His hand tightened the grip around the journal, and his voice came out low and steady.

"I always knew something was off," he said quietly. "Even back then...when I was twelve. They told me it was a car accident, but it never made sense."

I didn’t interrupt. I couldn’t.

He let out a bitter laugh under his breath, one that didn’t reach his eyes. "I kept asking questions... the police, my dad, anyone who’d listen. But no one cared. They all just said I was a grieving kid looking for someone to blame." He looked away, his jaw tightening. "Eventually, I stopped asking. I told myself I’d imagined it. That maybe she really just lost control of the car."

The words hung heavily in the air.

Then he took a step toward me, slow and deliberate. I instinctively leaned back against the chair. His height suddenly felt imposing, the way he loomed over me, the air feeling thin between us. His eyes found mine, sharp and searching.

"But you..." he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "You’re the first person who’s ever seen it the way I did."

My breath caught in my chest. "Adrien..." I began, unsure of what to say.

He chuckled lightly, the sound strained but genuine. "Kind of weird, huh?" He tilted his head, his eyes scanning my face like he was trying to understand me. "You, of all people."

"W—what do you mean by that?" I stammered, trying to ignore how warm my face felt under his gaze.

"Nothing," he replied, though the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "It’s just... for years, no one believed me. And now here you are...telling me I might’ve been right all along."

His tone wasn’t teasing anymore. It felt almost grateful. Almost.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. There was something in his eyes—something intense and restless, as if he’d been waiting years for someone to give him the go-ahead to start asking questions again.

Then, as if making a decision in that moment, Adrien straightened up, closing the journal with a soft thud. His shoulders squared, and the faint vulnerability I’d seen only moments earlier hardened into resolve.

"I’ll find them," he said quietly, but the weight of his words made it sound like a promise. "Whoever went after her... whoever did this. I’ll find out why."

I swallowed hard, looking up at him. "Adrien, that could be dangerous," I cautioned. "If your mom really was—"

"I don’t care," he interrupted, his tone sharp but not unkind. "I’ve spent half my life pretending her death didn’t affect me. That it was just an accident I had to get over. But if there’s even a chance that someone killed her..." He glanced down at the journal again, his knuckles white around it. "Then I need to know. I have to know."

He looked at me again, and for a moment, all the tension slipped away. There was something almost vulnerable in the way his eyes softened, like he was unsure if he was asking for help or warning me to stay away.

And even though I should’ve said something reasonable, something safe, I couldn’t bring myself to.

"Then we’ll find out," I said before I could stop myself. "Together."

It didn’t matter if he didn’t think of me as family, if he thought it wasn’t my business. But his actions earlier contradicted him, if he didn’t see me as anything more than some dumb guy...why would he entrust me with his late mom’s sanctuary?

He blinked, almost surprised, then let out a soft laugh, low and incredulous. "You really don’t know when to call it quits, do you?"

"Not when it comes to people I care about," I replied before I could think it through, and the words slightly dimmed his smirk.

His eyes lingered on me a moment. "So you do care about me."

I tilted my head, "Yeah, a little... Someone has to keep you out of trouble." I paused for a moment.

"If you’d let me of course, just because I’m your stepbrother doesn’t mean I can just intrude."

The air between us felt heavier now, filled with something neither of us was ready to name. And as Adrien turned his gaze back toward the forest stretching beyond the porch, I held my breath for his response.