Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 268 Mom, what’s wrong?

After calming herself by the bedside, Betty prepared to lie down for some rest.

It was then she remembered her door was unlocked.

She stared at the door, hesitating for a long while.

Finally, she walked over, her hand gripping the doorknob tightly.

As she locked the door, her jaw clenched as if she had made a significant decision.

She didn’t want to hurt Michael’s pride again, but for absolute safety, she felt she had no choice.

The act of locking the door seemed more fraught than ever before, as if she was guarding not just against Michael, but also against herself.

The moment the door clicked shut, Michael, who had been tidying up the room, froze.

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His body stiffened, and though his mouth was closed, his cheeks twitched visibly, a sign he was gritting his teeth.

Betty’s repeated actions were a blow to his self-esteem, akin to a man who confesses his love to his beloved, only to be mercilessly rejected time and again.

The heartache and sorrow were something any man who has faced romantic rejection could understand.

After a long while, Michael sighed softly and resumed his chores, though his silhouette carried a trace of melancholy.

Having finished his tasks, Michael returned to his room with a forlorn air.

He sat on the edge of his bed for a while, then, struck by a sudden thought, he turned on the surveillance footage.

On the screen, Betty was tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep.

Perhaps the image of Michael haunted her mind, relentless and inescapable, and her long-suppressed desires tormented her relentlessly.

Michael knew all too well what her restless movements implied.

He watched intently as Betty struggled with her insomnia and perhaps her arousal.

Her eyes, somewhat hazy, stared at the ceiling.

After much internal struggle, her hand slowly lifted her nightgown, revealing her underwear, and then she slid them off, exposing her naked lower body.

Michael’s eyes widened as he watched Betty indulge in self-pleasure in the secrecy of her bedroom...

After her indulgence, Betty lay limp, overwhelmed by a climax fueled by fantasies of Michael, though it did little to fully satisfy her needs.

Learning from the previous night, Betty cleaned herself with wet wipes, redressed, and turned to face the inside of the bed, clutching the blanket as if she had truly fallen asleep.

However, I knew she was not asleep, as tears trickled from the corners of her eyes.

After finding some comfort, the rational yet remorseful Betty couldn’t help but cry silently.

She clutched the blanket tightly, as if embracing someone for comfort.

Was she thinking of me or Michael?

After a while, Betty fell into a deep sleep, while Michael turned on the backup files in the surveillance system and continued watching.

There were too many old videos, and Michael spent a long time watching them.

This time, however, he didn’t take screenshots as before but chose a different approach.

He edited every video involving Betty, especially those depicting their first and subsequent sexual encounters, and saved them in a folder on his computer.

What he planned to do with them was unclear.

Could he be planning to blur the faces and upload them online?

The thought sent a chill down my spine.

With the prevalence of personal videos leaking online, even with blurred faces, the risks were immense, especially given the power of internet sleuths today.

If Michael were to upload those videos online, I wouldn’t put it past him.

A man deeply infatuated and driven by desire for his stepmother is capable of anything.

Perhaps he harbors an exhibitionist streak, relishing the thrill of strangers viewing his intimate moments with Betty, finding perverse satisfaction in it.

He might compile their past encounters into files and upload them to various forums.

Watching people comment could give him a twisted sense of fulfillment, as he pores over their reactions and opinions online.

These possibilities aren’t just wild guesses.

In my years as a journalist, I’ve seen too much and learned about all sorts of news.

I’ve encountered such cases countless times.

Initially, I scoffed at the idea, unable to fathom why such people existed.

But as I grew more seasoned in journalism, I became desensitized to these oddities.

However, I never imagined such things would happen in my own home, to me.

Michael meticulously edited the videos, pausing especially on the sensitive ones that captured their sexual encounters.

He focused on Betty’s expressions and demeanor, occasionally pausing the footage to ponder, perhaps analyzing her psyche from a psychological standpoint, aiming to fully grasp her inner thoughts.

The old adage ’know your enemy and know yourself, and you can fight a hundred battles without disaster’ seemed apt here.

As time passed, Betty was slowly succumbing to Michael’s schemes...

The next morning, Betty was jolted awake by her alarm, having overslept due to the previous night’s escapades.

After getting ready, she prepared a lavish breakfast for Michael, who emerged from the bedroom in baggy pajama pants, noticeably not wearing underwear.

The outline of his erection was visible with each step he took, making Betty feel awkward.

"Michael, I won’t be coming home for lunch anymore," Betty said at the breakfast table, trying to break the ice.

"I made extra for breakfast so you can just heat it up for lunch. If you want to cook something to your taste, feel free. If you’re too tired, just leave the dishes; I’ll clean up when I get back."

"Mom, what’s wrong? Don’t you like what I cook?" Michael’s eyes flickered with a subtle panic.

Had he pushed too far, too fast, prompting Betty to distance herself?

"It’s not that," Betty reassured him, "Your cooking is great. I love Western food. It’s just that my lunch break is too short to justify the commute. I didn’t leave you lunch yesterday because I was worried you’d be hungry. I usually nap at the office during lunch; it helps me recharge for the afternoon."

Betty’s expression shifted subtly as she navigated the conversation, touching on the delicate events of the previous day.

"Oh, okay... Just make sure you eat," Michael responded, a hint of sadness in his voice as he realized their time together would be reduced.

He cherished every moment with Betty, treating it like a battle where every minute could determine the outcome.

Yet, he managed a caring smile for her.

After Betty left for work, Michael sighed, reluctant to let her out of his sight.

It seemed every minute away from Betty was uncomfortable for him.