My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 197

Chapter 197

I didn’t know what that meant but I knew it made Daddy nod.

“Can it last longer?” Daddy asked.

“That’s the interesting part,” he said. “If we repeat the stimulus, we can train the brain to stay in that state longer. We find the right amount,” he said softly. “Not too much, not too little. Just enough to keep her focused. She’s already very responsive. Some children shut down. She doesn’t. She adapts. Which makes her ideal,” he said

Daddy’s voice was quiet, “Ideal for what?”

“For study. We can map the exact point where confusion turns into clarity,” he went on. “Track it. Measure it. Push it further each time. With the right tools,” he said, “we won’t need the stick forever.”

Daddy placed a hand on my head, “She’s not broken, she is just… miswired.”

“And miswiring,” the doctor said quietly, “can be corrected.”

“She’s my life,” Daddy said, “I want her to be the best. Whatever you need to do to fix her brain, Doctor. I’ll provide the equipment. I’ll provide the… motivation.”

I looked at the red marks on my hands. They were starting to puff up. My hands hurt, but Daddy said he was doing it because he loved me.

The Doctor smiled, but his teeth were too straight and too white, “We’ll start with the sensors tomorrow. We’ll find out what’s broken, and we’ll prune the bad parts away.”

I didn’t know what “prune” meant, but I hoped it would make Daddy love me even more.

Пooked back at the spiders on the page. They were starting to move again, getting all messy and blurry. I looked at the wooden stick on the desk and then at Daddy.

I wanted him to love me again.

Mom stood up so fast her chair fell backward with a loud thwack. She stepped in front of me, spreading her arms out.

“She isn’t going back there! Not today, not ever!” Mom screamed. I had never heard her scream like that, “Look at her hands, Giovanni! Look at what you did! Please, just leave her alone. Let her play. Let her be a little girl. I won’t let you touch her again.”

Daddy walked closer, his shoes making a click-tap sound on the marble floor. He stepped right into Mom’s space until she had to lean back against the table, right over my soup.

“You won’t let me?” he let out a mean laugh, “You’re confused, Hazel. You think this is a house where you have a vote. You think you’re a partner.”

“I may not be your partner but I’m her mother. She is my daughter!” Mom screamed, her face turning bright red.

Daddy’s face changed. The skin around his jaw got tight, “No. She is a Toricelli. She is my blood. She is my legacy. You are just the woman I picked to carry her. Nothing in this house is yours. Not the diamonds around your neck, not the silk on your back, and definitely not the future of my heir. You have nothing. You are nothing.”