Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 158

Chapter 158: Chapter 158: I just feel like killing someone
By the time Winter returned, the air inside the room had turned suffocatingly silent — so heavy it made her pause in the doorway. Her brows furrowed in confusion, her pulse quickening as her eyes landed on Kalix.

He stood near the window, half-shielded by the curtain’s shadow, his posture stiff and unmoving. The grim look carved across his face sent a shiver crawling down her spine. His hand gripped his phone so tightly, she could almost hear the faint creak of straining plastic.

Something was wrong. Deeply, undeniably wrong.

Her stomach knotted, unease slithering through her, coiling tighter with every second of silence that stretched on. She opened her mouth to ask — but before she could, his voice cut through the stillness, low and hoarse.

“Grandpa dropped Dianna’s case,” he said, the words clipped and sharp, like shards of glass. His teeth clenched, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he struggled to leash his anger.

For a heartbeat, Winter couldn’t breathe.

Of course he did, she thought bitterly. Deep down, they’d all known it was only a matter of time. Sylvester had never been a man to choose morality over convenience. But watching Kalix stand there — so composed, so quiet, yet unraveling at the edges — struck something deeper than anger in her.

She swallowed, her throat dry and tight.

He really believed this time would be different.

The thought settled like a stone in her chest. He had held onto hope, even when the rest of them had long stopped trying.

But what unsettled her more wasn’t the news itself — it was the look in his eyes. The quiet, cold realization that he’d been shut out by the one person he still tried so hard to believe in. No warning. No discussion. The decision had been made without him, as if his thoughts, his feelings, had never mattered.

Winter stood frozen, the words she wanted to offer stuck somewhere between comfort and apology. Nothing she could say would fix the betrayal tightening around him like a noose. She wanted to reach out, to close the space between them, but something about the way he stood there — closed off, distant — made her hesitate.

He doesn’t need empty words, she thought, her fingers curling into her palms.

He just needs someone who won’t walk away.

So she stayed. Silent. Letting her presence speak the only truth she had to give:

She wasn’t going anywhere.

“But that doesn’t mean I’ll spare her,” Kalix said, his voice cold and unyielding — each word sharp, carved in stone, permanent and impossible to erase. “She might get away for now. But I’ll make sure she faces the consequences for crossing me.”

There was no room for doubt in his tone. Only the quiet promise of retribution.

Winter nodded, her chest tightening with quiet agreement. She hated how easily Dianna had manipulated Sylvester — as if truth and loyalty were nothing but fragile things, easily bent beneath her schemes. But beneath the anger, something deeper gnawed at her.

It wasn’t just Dianna’s lies that unsettled her.

It was the inevitable moment when Sylvester would finally realize the damage he’d done.

And Winter wasn’t sure which would hurt more — the betrayal itself or the regret that would come too late.

***

Meanwhile, inside the Rosewood mansion, Lilac barged into Sylvester’s study, her chest heaving with fury, her sharp gaze locking onto her grandfather.

“How long are you going to let them manipulate you, Grandpa?”

Sylvester’s cold eyes flicked away, unmoved by the storm brewing inside her. But Lilac didn’t flinch. She planted herself firmly in front of him, refusing to back down.

“I asked you a question,” she pressed, her voice trembling with restrained rage. “How long will you let the guilt of what happened years ago ruin your grandchildren’s lives?”

When Sylvester had finally accepted Winter, Lilac had allowed herself to believe he was beginning to see the truth — the toxic roots that had festered in their family for years. But she’d been wrong. Even after welcoming Winter, he still clung to the guilt over Uncle Richard’s condition — a guilt that had become the leash allowing others to bleed him dry.

“I don’t need to justify myself, Lilac. I know what I’m doing.”

His indifference hit her like a slap. For a moment, she stood there, speechless — the weight of his cold dismissal sinking deep into her chest. Then, a humorless chuckle escaped her.

“Right,” she scoffed, shaking her head.

“We shouldn’t question your decisions — no matter how much they tear through our lives.” Her eyes narrowed, sharp and glassy with disappointment. “You know, Kalix actually believed you’d think this through. He thought you’d finally see the bigger picture.” She let out a bitter sigh. “But you proved him wrong. Again.”

Sylvester remained silent, and the longer he did, the more her frustration grew. When she couldn’t bear the sight of him anymore, she spun on her heel and stormed out.

Only when Lilac had disappeared from sight did Sylvester finally reach for his phone, his voice low and guarded as he spoke.

“Any updates?”

***

Lilac pushed open the front door and stormed outside, her anger burning hotter with every step. She couldn’t believe he’d done it again — turned his back on his own grandchildren for the sake of people who only ever strung him along with empty words and emotional blackmail.

Thud.

She slammed the car door shut, her knuckles white as her fists tightened on her lap. Her chest heaved, struggling to calm the storm swirling inside her.

A familiar voice broke the tense silence.

“Now that’s hard,” Stanley remarked from behind the wheel, glancing at her with mild concern as her ragged breathing gave away just how deeply the betrayal had cut.

“He doesn’t care, Stanley. He just doesn’t!” Lilac’s voice shook, her chest rising and falling with every ragged breath as the heat of her anger pulsed through her veins.

The weight of Sylvester’s indifference pressed down on her, crushing what little hope she’d allowed herself to hold onto. Once again, he had chosen to turn his back — not just on her, but on all of them.

He had failed Roger when he forced him into marrying Rita, and now, once again, he was letting those same people twist his mind, tightening the noose of guilt around his neck. Guilt born from a tragedy that had never been his fault — the loss of someone while protecting her parents.

Back then, Lilac had been too young to understand his desperation to shield them. But now that the truth had unraveled, the only thing she felt was miserable.

“I just feel like killing someone,” she muttered darkly, the words slipping from her lips like venom.

Stanley’s head snapped toward her, his brow arching high. He had seen Lilac angry before — and truth be told, she looked breathtaking when fury painted her face — but this… this was a whole new level. Hearing her talk about murder wasn’t just shocking; it was downright chilling.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he replied carefully, his tone laced with caution.

Lilac’s sharp gaze sliced toward him, her expression enough to make him reconsider his choice of words. Stanley raised his hands in mock surrender, flashing a quick, disarming smile.

“—But,” he added smoothly, “I can help you calm yourself down.”

Lilac’s brow furrowed, suspicion flickering in her eyes. “What?”

His lips curved into a playful grin, catching her off guard and leaving her momentarily stunned.

***

Stanley pulled his car to a stop in front of the nondescript building, the neon sign above barely flickering to life as they stepped out. He led Lilac through an unmarked door and down a flight of dimly lit stairs. The moment they stepped inside, the sharp scent of sweat, leather, and determination hit her senses.

It was her first time inside his sanctuary — the only place where Stanley could unleash the fury he kept buried under his calm exterior. The punching bags hanging from the ceiling bore the marks of countless battles with his bottled-up rage.

Lilac’s eyes widened in surprise as she took in the vast space. The room was larger than she expected, lined with pristine boxing equipment — gloves, speed bags, heavy bags, and a ring that stood proudly at the center like a stage awaiting its fighters.

“How come I never knew about this place?” she asked, her voice tinged with amazement as her gaze wandered from one corner to another.

Stanley leaned casually against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. “Because I never told you,” he said simply, his expression unreadable.

Her brow lifted, lips curving into a half-teasing smile. “Let me guess — you kept it from me on purpose, didn’t you? You figured I wouldn’t approve of it.”

A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I knew you’d hate the idea of me spending hours throwing punches instead of talking things out.”

Lilac stepped closer, her fingers brushing over the worn leather of a nearby glove. “Maybe. But I would’ve understood, Stanley. Everyone needs a place to let it all out.”

He looked at her then, softer now, the walls he built around himself lowering just a fraction. “I didn’t want you to see this side of me,” he admitted quietly. “The part that fights invisible wars.”

Lilac understood his reasons now, but if he had trusted her with the truth back then, she would’ve been far more understanding than she felt capable of being now

“So, should we start?”

“…”