Ivan
"What the hell is this?" I demanded, slamming the newspaper on the dining table. My stepmother, calm and poised as always, enjoying her tea stared briefly at the newspaper on the table and looked up at me. She looked as if she knew nothing about any of this at all. So innocent and I knew it was far from that. She knew exactly what this was because she most probably has paid for it.
"Don't expect things to quieten down so soon," She replied, pouring me a cup of coffee. "It will take some time of course,"
"You know that's not what I mean," I grimaced and she shrugged, still feigning innocence. I think she was too old to act cute.
"I don't give a damn about who writes what about us," I snapped, irrita
