Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 215

Chapter 215: Chapter 215: You’re lying

‘Beatrix. How could she forget?’

Winter’s breath hitched the moment recognition struck. She stepped out of the car without a second thought, hurrying toward the commotion at the gates where the guards were holding back a disheveled woman.

Beatrix.

Her presence was like a storm—wild, grief-stricken, and completely unhinged.

The second Beatrix’s eyes locked onto Winter, something snapped. She shoved past the guards with a guttural cry, her face twisted in anguish and fury.

“You bitch!” she screamed. “Because of you, I lost my daughter!”

Her voice cracked under the weight of raw grief. It wasn’t just an accusation—it was a mother’s devastation, weaponized. The news of Diana’s death had clearly broken something inside her.

Winter froze, stunned by the venom in Beatrix’s voice, but before the older woman could reach her—

Kalix was already there.

He moved like lightning, stepping in front of Winter with a protective force that made the guards straighten instantly. His arm shot out, catching Beatrix by the wrist just as her hand lunged forward.

“That’s enough,” he said, his voice like steel—calm, commanding, and dangerous.

Beatrix thrashed against Kalix’s unyielding grip, her eyes blazing with grief-fueled rage as tears streamed down her face.

“How dare you stop me!” she screamed, her voice hoarse with pain. “I’ll kill you both! You’re both responsible for my daughter’s death!”

Her words struck like knives, but Kalix didn’t flinch. His hold remained firm, immovable. The fury in her voice was wild, unrestrained—but beneath it all was a mother shattered beyond repair.

Still struggling, Beatrix clawed at the air, trying to break free, but Kalix shot the guards a single, sharp look. They didn’t hesitate. In seconds, they moved in, seizing her by the arms and pulling her back.

Winter stood frozen, her heart pounding as she watched Beatrix being dragged away—kicking, screaming, and cursing her name.

Her chest tightened, guilt gnawing at her ribs like a parasite. But before the weight of it could crush her, Kalix turned to her.

He didn’t say a word—just reached for her hand and gently took it in his. Then, without another glance back, he led her through the gates, shielding her from the storm Beatrix had left in her wake.

Behind them, the sound of distant cries faded into the night.

***

“Master,” James called as soon as the couple stepped inside.

Kalix didn’t break stride. “Where is Seren?”

“She’s already asleep, sir,” James replied with a quiet nod.

Kalix glanced toward Winter—her hand slipped from his the moment the words registered. She said nothing as she turned and ascended the stairs, her silence louder than any scream.

Beatrix’s words had cut deep. That much was clear.

Kalix’s jaw tensed, but he remained composed. “Inform Grandfather about the situation,” he instructed James. “Let him know I’ll reach out—there’s no need for him to call right away.”

James bowed slightly in understanding.

Without waiting for a response, Kalix followed Winter upstairs. But when he reached their bedroom, the door was shut—and locked.

A flicker of concern crossed his face.

His gaze shifted quickly, scanning the hallway—until he saw it.

Seren’s door was slightly ajar.

Kalix moved without hesitation. Stepping inside the softly lit room, he found Winter kneeling beside their daughter’s bed, her hand resting gently near Seren’s small arm.

She didn’t speak but simply watched Seren sleep as if needing the child’s peace to anchor herself.

Minutes passed in stillness.

Then, with aching tenderness, Winter leaned down and kissed Seren’s forehead. Her fingers lingered for a moment longer before she quietly stood and made her way toward the door.

Kalix stepped back, giving her space. But the look in her eyes as she passed him—quiet, distant, broken—gnawed at something in his chest.

She didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t speak.

She simply walked toward their room, her silence echoing louder than the footsteps she left behind.

Kalix remained where he was, his eyes trailing after her.

There was something about that silence…

Something that felt like she was slipping away.

But just as Kalix moved to follow her, his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment.

He glanced at the screen—Sean.

With a reluctant sigh, Kalix watched Winter slip into the bathroom, the sound of the door quietly shutting behind her. He stepped away from the room and onto the balcony, the cold night air biting against his skin as he answered the call.

“What did you find?” Kalix asked, his voice low and sharp.

“Boss,” Sean began, his tone laced with frustration. “I followed your orders and tried digging into Dorothy’s whereabouts. I’ve checked her recent movements, accounts, contacts—everything. But surprisingly, there’s nothing suspicious. Not a single misstep. Her trail is clean.”

Kalix’s eyes narrowed, his grip on the phone tightening. “Too clean?”

“Exactly. Either she’s really that careful, or someone’s helping her cover her tracks. But so far, there’s no evidence linking her to Dianna’s death.”

Kalix exhaled slowly, the tension simmering beneath his composed exterior. He didn’t like this. Dorothy was a snake, and snakes didn’t slither around without leaving some trace.

“She’s hiding something,” Kalix said coldly. “Keep digging. She wouldn’t stay this clean unless she had a reason to.”

“Understood,” Sean replied. “I’ll double back and look deeper. I’ll let you know if anything surfaces.”

Kalix ended the call, jaw clenched as he stared out at the city lights. The silence around him was heavy, but not as heavy as the one waiting behind that locked door.

Dorothy was slipping through cracks—but Winter?

Winter was slipping through his fingers.

And that, more than anything else, unsettled him.

***

[Greyson Mansion]

“Why would you kill her?!” Dorothy hissed into the phone, pacing the length of her lavish but dimly lit room. Her voice trembled with panic. “I told you to scare her—not murder her!”

“She was never touched, madam,” the man on the other end protested quickly. “I swear on my profession. I couldn’t even get close—someone else got to her first.”

Dorothy’s breath caught, her fingers tightening around the phone.

“You’re lying,” she snapped, though her voice wavered. “I gave you strict instructions—”

“I followed every one of them,” the man interrupted, more defensive now. “But I swear, when I arrived, she was already down. I panicked and got out before I was seen.”

Dorothy’s heart pounded as a sickening realization started to sink in.

If it wasn’t him… Then who?

Her mind reeled with the implications. Dianna had threatened to expose the truth—to go to Winter. And then she was murdered at J&K International… right where Winter happened to be.

Dorothy’s mouth went dry.

Winter saw it happen.

The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through her, shoving her into full alert.

“I’ll call you back,” she muttered, and hung up without waiting for a response.

She didn’t waste another second. Slipping into the hallway, Dorothy moved swiftly toward the study. Her heels echoed against the marble floors like the ticking of a countdown.

Pushing the doors open, she was met with the stale scent of whiskey and the sight of David slumped in an armchair, drink in hand, his tie undone and shirt wrinkled.

The once-proud man looked defeated—drowned in his failure.

The fallout from the failed project had been catastrophic. Investors had pulled out, funding had dried up, and the whispers in the business world had turned to full-blown avoidance. No one wanted to touch the Greysons with a ten-foot pole.

Dorothy’s lip curled in frustration.

“You’re drinking again?” She snapped.

David barely looked up. “What else is there to do? Everything we built… ruined.”

“Not everything,” she shot back. “We still have leverage. But if we don’t get ahead of this, we’ll lose everything.”

He snorted bitterly. “We already have.”

Dorothy stepped forward, her voice sharp now. “Dianna’s dead.”

David’s head slowly lifted, eyes bleary and confused. “What?”

“She was murdered—at J&K,” Dorothy confirmed, her expression twisted with something between panic and calculation. “And it wasn’t the man I hired. Someone else got to her first. Someone who knew.”

A long pause stretched between them as David processed the gravity of her words.

“What are you saying?” he asked finally.

“I’m saying,” she said coldly, “we have a bigger problem than failed deals or reputation damage. Someone else knows what we did—and now they’re cleaning house.”

David sobered instantly. The haze of alcohol vanished like a switch had been flipped. A cold sweat prickled his skin, and an unmistakable chill crept down his spine.

Someone knew.

Which meant someone had been watching them—closely.

He sat up straighter, his voice tight. “Do you think it’s the same person who sent those letters?”

Dorothy crossed her arms, scoffing bitterly. “I doubt it. That person’s been all bark, no bite—just empty threats and dramatic letters. Weeks have passed and nothing’s happened. If they were going to do something, they’d have done it by now.”

She began pacing, her heels clicking against the hardwood, her mind racing.

“But this… this wasn’t a warning,” she said through clenched teeth. “This was a message. Dianna was killed. Slaughtered right where everyone could see. Whoever did this isn’t trying to scare us—they’re eliminating anyone who knows the truth.”

David’s jaw clenched, his face pale. “Then we’re next.”

Dorothy stopped pacing, turning slowly to meet his eyes. There was no trace of the composed, sharp woman she usually was—only cold calculation and rising panic.

And… for the first time since they had started their scheme, David realized—

They were no longer the ones in control.

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