Marrying My Father&# Chapter 153: Steven’s Confession

Chapter 153: Steven’s Confession

Chapter 153: Steven’s Confession

Steven sat alone in the cold interrogation room, the fluorescent light overhead buzzing faintly.

His hands rested on the steel table, cuffed but motionless.

For once, there was no smirk, no cold act to hide behind.

He looked tired, his shoulders slumped under the weight of secrets he had carried for years.

When the detective entered, Steven didn’t bother to look up. He knew why he was there.

"Steven Blackwood," the detective said, flipping open a file. "You’ve had quite the career, haven’t you? Business deals, property acquisitions, forging docunts—should I go on?"

Steven chuckled bitterly, still not looking up. "You forgot ’living in my brother’s shadow.’"

The detective ignored his sarcasm.

"So you agree to save us both so ti and start talking? We already have enough evidence to bury you. But if you cooperate, maybe we can make this easier."

Steven finally raised his head, his eyes hollow.

"Make it easier?" he repeated. "Nothing about my life has ever been easy, detective. But fine. You want the truth? You want all of it?"

The detective leaned forward, his pen poised over a notebook. "I’m listening."

Living in Henry’s Shadow wasn’t easy for him...

"Being Henry Blackwood’s brother wasn’t exactly a privilege," Steven began, his voice flat. "He was the golden boy—perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect charm. And then there was . The screw-up."

He shifted in his seat, the chains on his cuffs rattling softly.

"Our father made sure I knew it every single day. ’Why can’t you be more like Henry?’ he’d say. It didn’t matter what I did—I was never good enough."

Steven’s lips curled into a bitter smile. "But Henry? Oh, he could do no wrong. He inherited the company, the family na, everything. I was just... there. An afterthought."

The detective studied him. "And that’s why you did what you did? Out of jealousy?"

Steven snorted. "Jealousy? No, detective. It wasn’t jealousy. It was survival."

eting Beatrice was his downfall...

"Then there was Beatrice," Steven continued, his voice softening. "The first ti I t her, I thought she was incredible. Confident. Beautiful. Dangerous."

His eyes darkened as he stared at the table.

"But I didn’t know the truth about her. Not then. I thought she was this victim—married to Henry, trapped in his perfect little world. She made

believe she cared about . That she saw ."

Steven let out a hollow laugh. "I was an idiot. I fell for her lies, every single one of them."

"What did she want from you?" the detective asked.

Steven’s jaw tightened. "She wanted control. Over Henry, over the company, over everything. And she used

to get it."

Steven’s hands clenched into fists, his voice lowered a little. "The worst of it started with Helen. Eira’s mother."

The detective’s pen stopped mid-note. "What do you an?"

Steven hesitated, he gulped his saliva.

"Helen was too good for this world. She loved Henry, even when he didn’t deserve it. And she loved Eira more than anything. Beatrice hated that. She hated Helen for being kind, for being everything she wasn’t."

He looked up, his eyes filled with guilt.

"So Beatrice started scheming. She frad Helen for cris she didn’t commit, convinced Henry to turn against her. And when Helen went to prison, Beatrice wasn’t done. She wanted Helen gone for good."

"Are you saying Beatrice killed her?" the detective pressed.

Steven’s voice cracked. "Not directly. She had

do the dirty work. I was the one who kept Helen’s illness hidden. I forged the dical docunts. I paid off the guards to delay her treatnt. And when she died, Beatrice made sure it looked like natural causes."

The detective’s pen scratched furiously across the page. "You’re admitting to murder?"

Steven’s head snapped up, his voice sharp. "I didn’t kill her! I didn’t know she’d die—I thought it was just another of Beatrice’s gas. But when it happened..."

He trailed off, his face crumbling. "I couldn’t stop it."

Steven took a shaky breath, quieter now. "The diary... that was Marion’s idea. She gave it to Eira, told her to write everything down. It was supposed to help her cope, to give her a way to survive everything we’d done to her family."

His eyes filled with bitterness.

"Beatrice found out about it, of course. She made

break into Marion’s house after she died. I tried to look for the diary, but we only found it in Henry’s office. She laughed as she read it, said it was proof of Eira’s ’weakness.’"

"What else?" the detective asked, leaning forward. "What else did Beatrice make you do?"

Steven exhaled slowly, as if releasing years of buried guilt.

"She made

forge docunts for Henry’s company. Fake contracts, fake accounts. Anything to weaken him while she built her own empire in the shadows. I ruined lives for her. Good people lost their jobs, their savings, everything, because of ."

"And you went along with it because...?"

Steven’s smile was painful. "Because I thought I loved her. Because she made

feel like I mattered. And by the ti I realised the truth, it was too late. She had her hooks in , and there was no getting out."

The detective tapped his pen against the table, his voice cold. "Why are you telling

all this now, Steven? You could’ve kept quiet."

Steven leaned back in his chair, his eyes heavy with regret.

"Because I’m tired. Tired of lying, tired of running, tired of being Beatrice’s puppet. And because Eira... she deserves better than what we did to her."

He looked up, eting the detective. "I can’t undo what I’ve done. But maybe I can help put Beatrice away for good."

The detective studied him for a long mont before nodding. "Keep talking."

Steven sighed, his shoulders sagged under the weight of his confession.

"Beatrice doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She’ll burn the whole world down if it ans getting what she wants. But ? I’m done being her matchstick."

The detective closed his notebook, "This will go a long way toward your case. But don’t think it erases everything."

"I don’t want it erased," Steven said quietly. "I just want it to end."