Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 184

Chapter 184: Chapter 184: That’s not how their world works
Lilac stepped out of the building, her heels clicking against the pavement as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the city skyline. She paused near the curb, scanning the street.

Stanley’s car was nowhere in sight.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. That’s odd. Stanley had never missed picking her up before—not once. Frowning, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number. The call rang… and rang… but no answer.

“What the—?” she muttered, glancing at the screen as the call ended without response. She tried again, this time walking a few paces down the sidewalk, but it went straight to voicemail.

Unease prickled at her skin.

She remembered him mentioning he was going to meet Logan earlier today, but he’d been clear—he’d be back in time to pick her up. Stanley wasn’t the type to just disappear. Not without a word.

Determined to find out what was going on, Lilac pulled up his location through the tracking app they both had installed for safety. Her heart sank as she watched the tiny dot blinking steadily… across town.

At a bar.

Seriously?

Without a second thought, she hailed a cab and gave the driver the address. The ride was a blur of anxious silence, her fingers tapping restlessly against her thigh the whole way.

Fifteen minutes later, she pushed open the heavy wooden doors of a dimly lit bar, the scent of alcohol and stale cigarettes hitting her instantly. Her eyes scanned the room, and then she saw him—slouched at the far end of the bar, a half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting next to him, his head low and eyes glassy.

“Stanley,” she said sharply, storming up to him.

He looked up slowly, blinking as if trying to focus. “L-Lilac?” His voice was slurred, barely above a whisper.

“Are you kidding me right now?” She snapped, grabbing his arm. “You were supposed to pick me up!”

He winced at the volume, dragging a hand over his face. “I… I was going to. I just… needed a drink.”

“A drink? You’re drowning in it.”

Stanley didn’t argue. He just stared at the glass in front of him like it held the answers to everything he couldn’t say. There was something raw in his expression—more than just drunkenness. Pain. Guilt. Something deeper.

Lilac’s anger softened slightly, though her voice remained firm. “What the hell happened?”

Stanley didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached for the bottle again. She stopped his hand.

“No more,” she said. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

He slumped back against the bar stool, defeated. “It’s Logan… things didn’t go well. At all. And I didn’t know where else to go. So I came here.”

Lilac inhaled sharply, her pulse starting to slow as understanding began to filter in. “And your solution was to get wasted and forget to pick me up?”

“I didn’t forget,” he muttered, ashamed. “I just couldn’t… move.”

She sighed, glancing at the bartender. “Water. And the check.”

Stanley opened his mouth to protest, but the look in her eyes shut him up.

“Come on,” she said quietly. “Let’s get you home.”

He nodded slowly, the alcohol clearly weighing on him now more than ever. And as she helped him to his feet, Lilac realized—something was broken in Stanley. Something he hadn’t told her yet.

But she would find out. One way or another.

As Lilac helped Stanley out of the bar, his arm hung heavily over her shoulder, his steps sluggish and uncoordinated. He leaned against her more than he walked, his silence louder than any slurred apology. By the time she managed to guide him into the passenger seat of her car, his head lolled back, eyes half-closed.

“You better have a damn good reason to convince me, Stanley,” Lilac muttered, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary before circling to the driver’s side.

Her jaw clenched as she slid behind the wheel.

She hated this. The smell of liquor clinging to him, the weight of his silence, the hollow look in his eyes—it all brought her back to a time she’d worked so hard to forget. Back then, she’d waited countless nights for him to come home, only to find him drunk and unreachable. He promised her it would stop. Swore he’d change.

And for a long time, he had.

Until tonight.

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she pulled into the night. Logan. Her thoughts curled into a storm. What the hell did you tell him this time? She could feel the man’s name burning on her tongue like poison. Whatever happened during that meeting, it had dragged Stanley back into the dark place he’d fought so hard to crawl out of.

The drive to Stanley’s apartment was mercifully short. She parked with a sharp turn of the wheel and rushed to his side. He stirred slightly as she opened the door, groaning when the cold night air hit him.

“Come on,” she said, looping her arm under his again.

He didn’t resist.

Once inside the apartment, she guided him to the couch and eased him down. He slumped forward, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. The room smelled faintly of old coffee and lemon cleaner, but even that couldn’t mask the scent of whiskey radiating off him.

Lilac stood over him, arms folded tightly across her chest, watching as he sat slumped on the couch—silent, distant, unreachable. But after a moment, she realized that staring him down wouldn’t fix anything. It never had.

With a sigh, she turned and walked into the kitchen. Her movements were sharp and efficient—boiling water, squeezing lemon, adding a spoonful of honey. Her mind raced even as her hands moved on autopilot. She didn’t know what part of the meeting with Logan had triggered this spiral, but she was sure of one thing: she hated seeing Stanley like this. Not just drunk—but disconnected. Silent.

When she returned, she held out the steaming glass. “Stanley,” she said, her voice firm but gentler than before. “Drink this.”

He blinked slowly, his eyes heavy and bloodshot. For a second, it looked like he wouldn’t take it, but then he reached out, fingers brushing hers as he accepted the glass. He brought it to his lips and took a few small sips, wincing slightly at the warmth.

When he handed it back, she took it without a word and placed it on the coffee table.

“Better?” she asked, folding her arms again as she turned to face him.

Stanley leaned back against the couch, his eyes closing briefly as the remnants of his drunken haze started to lift. “Hmm,” he murmured, more of a hum than a real answer.

Lilac watched him for a moment, hoping he’d say something. Anything.

But he didn’t.

He just sat there—silent, brooding, clearly more sober now, yet still locked away behind that wall he built when things got hard. The silence stretched between them like a sham. And that’s what unsettled her the most.

It wasn’t the broken promise or even the alcohol—though both cut deep. It was the silence. The way he still couldn’t look her in the eye. The way he held whatever truth had unraveled him was like a secret too heavy to share.

“What happened, Stanley?” she asked, quieter this time.

His jaw tensed, and she could see it—the struggle in his eyes. The desire to speak and the fear of what would come if he did.

“My father challenged his employer,” Stanley finally said, his voice low and heavy. “And that was all it took for them to erase him—and his entire family.”

The words landed like a blow, freezing Lilac in place.

She stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. “What?”

Stanley leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his fingers laced tightly as though holding himself together.

“Logan told me everything. My father had asked to step away. He didn’t want out—just a retreat. Time. But the moment he questioned their authority, the moment he tried to draw a line… they labeled him a threat. A liability. And that was the end of him.”

Lilac felt the room tilt. “But… how does that make sense?” she asked, her voice thin. “Isn’t it his right to choose the path he wants? How could that offend them?”

Stanley gave a hollow laugh. “That’s not how their world works. Not theirs. You don’t get to change your mind. Once you’re in, you follow orders—or you’re removed. Permanently.”

Lilac shook her head slowly, trying to wrap her mind around it. She had no idea what kind of organization Stanley’s father had been part of—but clearly, it was something far darker than anything she was familiar with.

“The one my brother runs…” she began carefully, “he gives his people a choice. If someone wants to leave, to live a normal life—they’re allowed. Respected, even. He doesn’t believe in owning people.”

Stanley looked at her, his eyes filled with something almost like envy. “That’s rare, Lilac. Most groups that deal in this kind of power… they don’t care about freedom. They only care about loyalty. Obedience. And fear.”

Lilac sat down beside him, her thoughts spiraling. “So Logan brought this up… Why? To scare you? To make you back off?”

“To remind me,” Stanley said bitterly. “To show me what happens when someone like me steps out of line. He wanted me to know that if I keep digging into things I shouldn’t—I’ll be following the same path my father did.”

“And you believed him?” she asked softly.

“I knew he meant it,” Stanley whispered. “He didn’t need to raise his voice. He just looked me in the eye… and I felt it. The same silence that came before everything was taken from my family.”

Lilac was quiet for a moment. Then, gently, she placed her hand over his.

“You’re not your father, Stanley.”

He turned his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“I know—and that’s exactly why I can’t walk away. They killed someone just because they were afraid of being exposed. And now… I’m hellbent on digging deeper, no matter what it costs.”