Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 223

Chapter 223: Chapter 223: Eric had been moving silently behind the scenes

Dianna’s death hadn’t just shocked the world—it had left Agnes shattered, unable to accept the grim truth that her friend had been murdered. What made it worse was the silence surrounding it. Even her own parents claimed to have no idea who was behind it.

And Agnes wasn’t sure if she believed them.

She knew Dianna had threatened to expose them after they refused to help bail Rita out. Dorothy had been furious—panicked, even. She said they needed to act fast, that Dianna was a loose cannon. But before they could do anything… someone else got to her first.

Now, Agnes sat curled on the edge of the couch, her knees drawn tightly to her chest, her eyes distant and haunted. An invisible weight pressed down on her, a fear that gnawed at her from the inside out. Something about it all felt unfinished. Unsafe.

“Here,” Eric said softly, kneeling beside her and holding out a glass of water. “Drink something. You haven’t been yourself since Dianna’s death hit the headlines.”

Agnes blinked, her gaze slowly shifting to him. Her fingers wrapped around the glass, but she didn’t drink. Her thoughts were still caught in the chaos—unfinished conversations, unspoken secrets.

But then…suddenly Winter’s warning echoed in her mind causing Agnes to froze.

The glass trembled slightly in her hands as her mind raced. She hadn’t thought much of Winter’s cryptic words at the time. But now… after Dianna’s death, after everything—those words carried a chilling weight.

Eric, still crouched beside her, frowned as he studied her pale face.

“Why aren’t you drinking it?” he asked, his voice calm but probing.

Agnes blinked up at him, forcing a smile through the tightness in her chest.

“I—I am,” she stammered, lifting the glass with a shaky hand and taking a small sip. The water was cold, but it did nothing to ease the sudden tension in her throat.

Eric watched her for a beat longer, his eyes unreadable. Then, with a quiet nod, he stood and stepped away.

“I’ll give you a moment,” he murmured, walking toward the door.

Agnes kept her eyes on the floor, her fingers clenched tightly around the glass. Only when she heard the soft click of the door closing behind him did she move.

Her expression shifted instantly—no longer strained but alert. She stood up, walked swiftly to the sink, and poured the rest of the water down the drain. The sound echoed in the silent room, followed by her shaky exhale.

Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

She set the empty glass aside and pressed her palms against the countertop, trying to steady her breath.

Winter had been right to warn her.

And now… Agnes wasn’t sure who she could trust anymore.

What had happened to Dianna wasn’t just a tragedy—it was a message. A warning.

One meant for her.

Every step forward now felt like walking a tightrope, and suddenly, even Eric being gentle, attentive Eric—wasn’t above suspicion. His timing, his concern, his presence… it all made her question everything she thought she knew.

After splashing cold water on her face in the restroom, Agnes stared at her reflection, watching as doubt crept into her eyes. She couldn’t afford to be naïve—not anymore.

Moments later, she marched out with renewed purpose, heading straight for her bag. Her fingers fumbled through the contents until they found it—a folded piece of paper she had kept hidden: the prescription she had quietly taken from Eric’s office days ago.

Her heart pounded as she unfolded it and scanned the contents. Her eyes locked on the drug name.

A vitamin supplement.

Just vitamins.

A deep frown settled across her face. Her instincts screamed that something wasn’t right, yet the prescription was innocent. Harmless. It made no sense.

Unless that’s exactly what he wanted you to believe.

Agnes shook her head, frustration bubbling under her skin. Logic told her she was spiraling. But something in her gut whispered that she wasn’t being paranoid—she was being prepared.

She folded the paper back carefully and tucked it into her wallet.

If Dianna taught her anything, it was this:

Even the people who hold the glass to your lips might be the ones tightening the noose around your neck.

“I need to get my hands on that bottle,” she muttered under her breath, her voice low and sharp with resolve.

***

Meanwhile, inside the room, Eric sat at his desk, fingers steepled under his chin, his mind looping back to Agnes’s reaction earlier.

Something about the way she looked at the glass he gave her—it hadn’t sat right with him. The hesitation. The way her fingers clenched around it. And that smile… it didn’t feel real. It felt rehearsed. Forced.

Yet, when he asked, she drank it. Or at least, she made it look like she did.

Maybe she’s still in shock from Dianna’s death, he reasoned, leaning back in his chair. The entire situation had been traumatic, after all. Dianna being found dead in the parking lot of J&K International had rocked everyone. But Agnes… her silence felt heavier than grief.

And then, like a shadow creeping in from the corners of his mind, his thoughts shifted to Winter.

The only witness.

The one person who had seen everything—or so she claimed.

Eric had avoided confronting Winter after their last encounter. She had tried to poison Agnes against him, filling her head with doubts and warnings. At the time, he’d written it off as petty manipulation. Winter had always been calculating. But now, after Dianna’s murder, he couldn’t ignore the weight of her words anymore.

Maybe Winter knew more than she let on.

Maybe she’d seen more.

Eric’s jaw clenched as he stared blankly at the papers in front of him. This wasn’t just grief twisting people’s emotions. This was something deeper. More dangerous.

As Eric’s thoughts spiraled deeper into suspicion and unresolved questions, his phone buzzed sharply, slicing through the silence like a warning bell.

He glanced at the screen. Unknown number.

Without hesitation, he answered.

“Hello?”

***

Meanwhile, Agnes sat quietly on the edge of the bed, her mind still racing with everything she had discovered—or rather, everything she hadn’t yet. The prescription, the glass of water, Dianna’s warning… It all gnawed at her like puzzle pieces refusing to fit.

The door creaked open, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Eric stepped in, phone still in hand, his expression unreadable but tense.

“I have to step out,” he said, slipping on his blazer with swift, practiced movements. “An urgent meeting just came up. I won’t be long.”

His tone was brisk, eyes avoiding hers, which only made her more uneasy.

Agnes watched him closely, her gut twisting with unease. Something about the way he moved—the urgency in his steps, the stiffness in his jaw—made it clear: this wasn’t just a routine meeting.

And he wasn’t telling her everything.

“Alright,” she said softly, forcing calm into her voice. “Take care.”

Eric paused for a moment, then gave a tight nod before exiting the room.

The door clicked shut.

As silence returned, Agnes exhaled slowly and rose to her feet. If he was gone…

Then this might be her only chance.

Minutes later, Agnes stood inside Eric’s study. She had been in this room before many times, in fact but tonight felt different. The air was heavier, the silence more oppressive, like the walls themselves were watching.

This time, she wasn’t here to sit politely or make idle conversation.

She was here for the truth.

Agnes didn’t waste a second. She moved with urgency, determination etched into every motion as she began her search. She opened drawers, flipped through folders, checked beneath stacks of paper—methodical, yet tense.

Each empty space only fed her frustration.

The first drawer? Nothing but pens and outdated files.

The second? Office supplies. Clean. Too clean.

The shelf? Neatly arranged books, untouched. Decorative.

Her fingers moved faster, pulling at corners, shifting picture frames, checking behind books for hidden compartments. Her pulse quickened with every second of failure.

‘Where is it?’

She crouched by the lower cabinets, rifling through the contents with growing desperation. Her hands trembled slightly, her breath coming in shallow bursts.

With every drawer that yielded nothing, Agnes could feel her patience slipping, her nerves fraying.

A cold knot formed in her stomach.

What if he had hidden it somewhere else?

What if he knew she was onto him?

She slammed the final drawer shut harder than she intended, the sound echoing in the quiet room like a shot. Agnes froze, listening—but the silence remained.

She ran a hand through her hair, forcing herself to stay calm.

He wouldn’t have thrown it away. Not if it meant something.

There had to be somewhere else he’d hide it.

And she wasn’t leaving until she found it.

But then, something caught her eye.

It wasn’t the bottle she was searching for—but a stack of papers she had brushed over earlier without paying them much attention. This time, something about them pulled her in.

Agnes picked up the documents and flipped through them carefully.

Her brows furrowed.

“These names…” she murmured, scanning the list again. “Aren’t these the people who worked with Dad?”

She took a step back, heart suddenly racing. These weren’t just old contacts or random associates—these were key figures. Trusted partners from her father’s inner circle.

Her gaze dropped to a second page—and then it hit her like a punch to the gut.

The shares… under Eric’s name.

Her stomach twisted.

Agnes had never been business-minded—she had always left that to her father, never quite interested in numbers, stocks, or board meetings. But even with her limited understanding, she knew one thing: these documents weren’t normal.

Eric had been moving silently behind the scenes, collecting connections. Forming quiet alliances. Buying in.

And all of it—all of it—pointed to one thing.

While Greyson International was on the verge of collapse, Eric had been consolidating power. Not to help. Not to save the company. But to own it. Piece by piece.

A chill ran down her spine as she held the papers tighter.

This wasn’t just betrayal. It was strategy.

And Dianna’s death… could it have been more than just a warning?

Maybe it was the price of knowing too much.

Agnes took a shaky breath, backing away from the desk.

She came here looking for a bottle—but what she found instead was far more dangerous.

Proof.

Now she just had to figure out what to do with it… before Eric realized she knew.