Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 238

Chapter 238: Chapter 238:Then I must warn you

Back inside the Greyson mansion, Dorothy sat motionless on the plush couch, her brows furrowed in thought, her fingers restlessly tapping the phone in her hand. Eric’s words replayed in her mind, echoing with a weight she couldn’t shake.

Agnes is out of town.

The revelation gnawed at her. How was it possible that her own daughter had left the city—and she hadn’t even known?

Just then, the door creaked open, and David walked in, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion. The lines on his face looked deeper today, wearier.

Ever since he’d agreed to the board’s demands, David had started feeling less like the CEO and more like a glorified employee—signing papers and attending meetings he barely had a say in. The title remained, but the power was slowly slipping through his fingers.

Dorothy glanced up at him, her concern sharpening. She saw the fatigue clinging to him like dust, but her thoughts were too consumed to dwell on his state.

“She’s out of town,” she blurted. “Agnes. She didn’t tell me a word.”

David froze mid-step, his hand halfway to loosening his tie. “And?” he muttered without turning around.

Dorothy blinked, baffled by his indifference. “And?” she echoed. “David, she’s our daughter. Don’t you find it strange that she leaves the city and doesn’t even think to inform us?”

He exhaled heavily, the weariness in his eyes giving way to irritation. “She’s been distant for a while now. Avoiding us, shutting us out. Why is it suddenly such a shock that she didn’t call?”

Dorothy’s temper flared. “Because it’s not like her! She’s never kept things from me. Not until she moved in with that man.” Her voice rose, trembling with frustration. “I’m her mother, David. Shouldn’t that mean something?”

His jaw tightened, the muscle twitching in restraint. Without a word, David turned and disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

THUD!

The sound echoed through the silent room like a closing statement.

Dorothy stared at the closed door, her fists clenched at her sides. Anger simmered beneath her skin, but beneath that, deeper still, was a gnawing unease. Something didn’t feel right.

Agnes hadn’t just drifted away—she’d vanished from their lives in increments, piece by piece, like someone slowly erasing herself from a picture.

And now, with Eric holding the brush, Dorothy couldn’t help but wonder just how much of her daughter was left.

“There is no way I am believing him,” she muttered with determination in her eyes.

Dorothy knew something was wrong and Eric knew something. And she will make sure to find it.

Without wasting another second, Dorothy made a call to her informant and asked him to keep an eye on Eric and update her on everything.

She wanted to know where Agnes truly was or whether Eric was telling the truth or not.

***

[Café Le Marais—Late Afternoon]

“I expected Mr. Alexander would have forgotten about me,” Gina said, her voice light but laced with something sharper beneath. “But I guess he didn’t.”

She sat across from him, legs crossed, perfectly poised. Calm, collected—exactly how she wanted to be seen. Her fingers curled lightly around her coffee cup, but her eyes never left his.

Alexander remained silent, his expression unreadable. Just like last time.

The air between them wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. It was watchful. Tense. Like two wolves circling, waiting to see who blinked first.

Gina didn’t forget their last encounter. How he’d studied her like a puzzle he was halfway through solving. How he’d casually dropped a comment about her eyes—how they resembled someone. Or the offhand mention of her hometown, a place she hadn’t spoken about in years.

She had been close to cracking that day. Close to letting her mask slip. But she didn’t. And she wouldn’t now.

This meeting, though? It had come out of nowhere. No call. No warning. Just a text with a time and a place. She should’ve ignored it. She didn’t.

And now here they were—he unusually quiet, she unusually cautious.

“You’re awfully silent,” she said, finally breaking the pause. “I thought you liked the sound of your own voice.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his features. Barely there, but she caught it.

“I’m listening,” Alexander replied coolly. “You have a habit of revealing more when you think no one is speaking.”

Gina raised a brow. “So you’ve been studying me now?”

“I’ve been trying to understand the inconsistencies,” he said, tilting his head. “Your résumé is clean. Too clean. Like it was rewritten.”

She smiled, slow and sharp. “Maybe I’m just that good.”

“Maybe,” he said, finally breaking into a subtle smile—but it didn’t reach his eyes. It wasn’t amusement that stirred behind them. It was something colder. Sharper. Malice.

Gina’s posture remained poised, but her senses sharpened. She didn’t like that smile. It felt like a threat wrapped in velvet.

“You did tell me once…” she began, changing the subject abruptly, steering away from the strange tension crawling up her spine. “Whom I remind you of.”

Alexander’s expression shifted in an instant—hardening like stone. The trace of a smile vanished, and something in his eyes aged, turning distant… haunted.

He leaned back slowly in his chair, his gaze never leaving her. Calculating. Cold.

“The woman I never want to remember,” he said flatly.

There was no bitterness. No sorrow. Just detachment—like he’d ripped that chapter out of his life and burned the pages.

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.

Gina sat still, stunned—not by the words themselves, but by the way he said them. As if he’d buried something, someone, deep enough to forget—only to see her face and be dragged back.

She didn’t know whether to press him further or walk away entirely.

But one thing was clear: Alexander wasn’t just dangerous because of what he did.

He was dangerous because he felt nothing for it.

“You seem to harbor a deep resentment toward her,” Gina said, keeping her tone even, her gaze steady. “But it wasn’t like that before.”

She remembered the first time he’d mentioned her—the flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes. A quiet longing he hadn’t meant to reveal. But now… Now all she saw was detachment laced with disdain.

What was she supposed to believe?

Alexander was silent for a moment, his fingers drumming once against the table before he let out a quiet, humorless chuckle.

“It’s complicated, Miss Gina,” he said finally, eyes narrowing with quiet curiosity. “But it seems you’ve been paying quite a bit of attention to me. Are you spying on me or something?”

Gina’s lips curled into a small, mischievous smile. “What if I say I am?”

Alexander leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable. “Then I must warn you, Miss Gina…” He paused, his voice dipping just low enough to feel like a threat wrapped in silk. “I’m not an easy man to get close to.”

Gina didn’t flinch.

“Good,” she replied, her smile never wavering. “Easy men bore me.”

Their eyes locked—a silent duel neither was willing to break first.