Chapter 158: Chapter 158
Connor’s POV
"Dad."
I turned to see Matt entering my study. I gestured to the chair across from my desk, but he remained standing, his face unreadable.
"What is it, son?"
He scoffed, eyes narrowing. "Did you know Kyra believes her mother was murdered? And that she’s suspecting our family?"
This wasn’t news to me. I’d been working diligently to keep our family out of danger, to protect what was mine.
"I know," I replied calmly.
Matt’s forehead creased with concern. "Dad, are you just going to let her continue with this? She seems determined."
I chuckled, aiming for nonchalance. "Let her be, son. She’s just lonely and looking for something to focus on. Once she realizes she’s wrong, she’ll stop."
"What if she doesn’t stop?" Matt pressed. "What if she actually has evidence?"
That got my attention. I felt my jaw clench as I stared at my son. "Evidence? She has evidence?"
He shrugged. "I don’t know for sure. But she seemed pretty confident when she told me her mother was murdered. Why? Does that worry you?"
I sucked in a breath and shook my head. "Nothing to worry about. Go on now. I have paperwork to finish."
"Paperwork?" Matt raised an eyebrow. "I thought Kyra stole your position?"
I gritted my teeth, my hands balling into fists beneath the desk as I glared at the documents before me. "I’m consulting with a lawyer about that matter. I will reclaim my position."
"Okay. I’ll leave for now," Matt said. "I want to keep an eye on Kyra, make sure she doesn’t cause trouble for our family."
I looked up at him, pleased by his loyalty. "Yes, please do. Tell me everything she’s doing. Make sure she doesn’t notice you watching her."
"Yes, Dad." He paused at the door. "Where’s Mason, by the way?"
I leaned back in my chair. "He went out. To clear his head, I think."
He nodded and left. Once I was sure he was gone, I immediately made a call.
[Hello?]
"Are you absolutely certain all the documents were destroyed?" I demanded.
[Yes, Mr. Foster.]
I stood and walked to the door, checking the hallway before locking it securely.
"She’s still investigating. My son is already asking questions. You need to ensure Kyra never finds any evidence linking me to her mother’s death. If she brings me down, I’m dragging you with me. Understand?"
[The documents are all gone, Mr. Foster. I personally made sure of it. You have nothing to worry about.]
"Good," I said coldly before ending the call.
When I exited my study, I asked the maid cleaning the living area, "Where’s Matt?"
"He left almost five minutes ago, Sir."
I nodded, feeling a small wave of relief. I couldn’t let my sons discover the truth, especially not Matt. That boy had always been righteous to a fault. He would never stand with me if he learned what really happened to his aunt.
***
Matt’s POV
I slammed my fists against the steering wheel, ripping the earbuds from my ears and throwing them to the floor of my car. My chest heaved with anger, disappointment, and pure, raw frustration.
I had gone to my father’s study earlier to secretly install an audio bugging device under his desk. I’d been desperate to prove Kyra wrong, but part of me needed to know the truth. And now I did.
"What the fuck, Dad!" I growled, cursing continuously under my breath. My wolf, Timber, whined in distress at the betrayal we felt.
He was involved. Kyra was right. My family had been hiding a monstrous secret.
"ARGH!" I shouted. Dad had always been kind, fair. I’d never seen him make a serious mistake before, so how could he be this... evil?
He was involved in Eva Foster’s death. His own sister. His blood. This was fucking unbearable.
"I can’t believe it," Timber growled inside me. "Father... a murderer of his own kin."
I couldn’t accept it. I just couldn’t! I had looked up to him all my life. He was my role model. I’d become successful because of him. I’d done everything to make him proud because I was proud he was my father. But now... everything felt tainted. Broken. False.
Instead of heading to the company to watch Kyra as planned, I drove to a bar. The pressure in my chest was building to the point of explosion. The family I’d been so determined to protect didn’t deserve protection at all.
I rarely drank, but tonight I needed it. I needed to drown myself in alcohol, or I’d confront my father about what I’d heard. I couldn’t do that—not yet. I was still... in denial.
I ordered the strongest whiskey they had and forced it down despite my tongue’s protest. I gripped the glass so tightly I feared it might shatter in my hand as I tried to calm the storm inside me.
I wanted to know Dad’s reasons, but if he’d done this just for the company and Grandma’s wealth... I could never forgive that. He could have built his own empire. He didn’t need to kill for riches. Damn it!
My vision blurred at the edges, but I could still function. I was about to take another drink when someone slid onto the stool beside me. It was a familiar woman who ordered a hard drink before turning to look at me.
Emily. I’d always wondered why this woman looked like a living corpse. Emotionless, as if nothing could touch her heart. Cold, as if no kindness could ever melt her. Full of hatred, as if the world had wounded her too deeply to heal.
"What are you looking at?" she asked.
I laughed bitterly. "Why do you want to betray Kyra even when she treats you like her sister?"
Her lips quirked up. "I don’t like drama, Mr. Foster. If you’re trying to protect your precious cousin, save your breath."
I clenched my jaw and grabbed her waist. She looked shocked, but I didn’t care. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the need to feel something other than betrayal, but I found myself kissing her fiercely. I’d had girlfriends before. Flings. But the moment I tasted her lips, everything else felt like cheap imitations. Who was this woman? Why did I feel like once I let her in, I’d never get her out of my system? She was like a drug I couldn’t quit.
"What are you doing?" Timber growled. But his protest was weak, drowned by sensation.
My mind went blank when she wrapped her arms around my neck. Started kissing me back. Her lips were sweet, soft, intoxicating. I couldn’t get enough.
We were both panting when we finally broke apart. I looked at her through eyes hazy with liquor and desire. Licked my bottom lip as I stared at her wet, swollen mouth.
I grabbed her wrist. The last thing I clearly remember was dragging her to a VIP room. Tearing her dress. Everything after became a blur. Her body made me more drunk than any alcohol. All I could do was kiss her. Worship her like a man possessed.
