Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 186

Chapter 186: Chapter 186: That feels good
Kalix took the device, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the report.

“They disposed of it before vanishing,” Sean said, gauging his reaction. “Burned it down to the frame. No prints, no trace. Completely clean.”

Kalix didn’t respond immediately. His jaw clenched as he stared at the images on the screen—ashes, twisted metal, and the haunting absence of answers.

“Doesn’t this strike you as odd, boss?” Sean pressed, his gaze fixed on Kalix.

“They didn’t just follow the car because Seren was inside… They were tracking Stanley too. Doesn’t that point to something bigger?”

Kalix’s eyes darkened. The pieces began to fall into place, fitting with a disturbing clarity. His voice, when he spoke, was low and firm.

“Our enemies are the same,” he said, confirming what Sean had suspected all along.

Kalix handed the device back. “Keep an eye on Stanley. I might have refused for help, but he needs the protection.”

They might have agreed to trust Logan for now, but trust was a luxury Kalix couldn’t afford. Not when the stakes were this high.

Sean gave a curt nod as they continued the drive to J&K International.

***

Meanwhile, Winter was fighting her own battles within the walls of the company.

Dianna Thames stood across from her, arms crossed, eyes cold. Another file landed on the desk with a thud.

“Is this how you’re planning to work, Winter?” Dianna sneered. “Another proposal that lacks foresight. Honestly, are you even trying?”

Winter’s spine stiffened, but she kept her tone measured. “That proposal has already been reviewed by the board. It was meant to mitigate the losses from your last oversight.”

Dianna’s expression soured, but she said nothing.

In Dianna’s absence, Winter had worked tirelessly to live up to Kalix’s expectations. She’d uncovered the financial errors Dianna left behind—errors that could’ve sunk an entire quarter.

Quietly, efficiently, she had corrected them. The numbers had begun to recover; projections realigned.

But the moment Dianna returned, she began dismantling it all, piece by piece. Whether out of pride, spite, or insecurity, Winter couldn’t tell. But it was clear—Dianna was causing trouble.

“I’m not trying to undermine you,” Winter added, her voice calm but firm. “I’m trying to fix what went wrong.”

Dianna scoffed. “You’re overstepping.”

“I’m doing my job,” Winter replied, eyes meeting hers evenly. “And if you actually looked at the data instead of your ego, you’d see that.”

For a moment, Dianna said nothing. Then, with a glare, Winter gathered the rejected file and turned on her heel.

Winter exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to slam something. She wasn’t here to fight petty battles—she had bigger goals.

Kalix trusted her. She wouldn’t let sabotage or office politics unravel what she’d built.

Still, she knew this was only the beginning.

Dianna smirked as she watched Winter walk away, heels clicking with that quiet determination she despised.

Disappointing her had become a guilty pleasure—each furrowed brow, each clenched jaw, a small victory. But beneath the satisfaction, Dianna couldn’t ignore the sting of reality: Winter had handled the role with startling efficiency.

In her absence, the younger woman had not only salvaged the financial wreckage Dianna left behind, but she’d also won over key board members and stabilized projections with precision.

It grated on Dianna—how effortlessly Winter had taken her place. How competent she was. But Dianna wasn’t ready to surrender the throne just yet.

No, this wasn’t just a petty power play.

Dianna had every intention of reclaiming her influence at J&K, even if it meant undermining Winter at every turn. Let the girl fix what she’d broken—then quietly unravel it all again. With just enough subtlety to keep Kalix’s attention elsewhere.

Dianna was playing the long game, and in her mind, Winter was just another temporary obstacle.

She smirked, reaching into the drawer for the file she had carefully stashed out of sight. “Such a fool,” she muttered under her breath, a low, venom-laced chuckle escaping her lips as she flipped it open.

Her eyes danced over the pages—confidential reports, discrepancies no one else had noticed, and a trace of something Winter had unknowingly overlooked. Or perhaps trusted too much.

Dianna’s fingers trailed across a highlighted figure as her grin widened. This was the leverage she needed. One misstep, one calculated move, and she could turn Winter’s entire performance against her.

Winter stormed into her office, the files in her hand slamming against the desk with a sharp thud. Her chest heaved, frustration burning beneath her skin. But as she began to sort through them, she froze.

One file was missing.

Her eyes darted over the desk again, then to the door.

“Of course,” she muttered under her breath. “I have to go deal with her again.”

She turned on her heel, ready to march back out, only to halt abruptly as Dianna appeared in the doorway, blocking her path.

“You left this behind,” Dianna said coolly, holding out the missing file.

Winter’s brows furrowed. Her eyes flicked between the file and Dianna’s unreadable expression. Suspicion pricked at her, but she reached out to take it anyway.

“And for the record,” Dianna added, her lips curling into a bitter smile, “you can stop cursing me under your breath. It’s not flattering. If anything, it just makes me hate you more.”

Without waiting for a reply, Dianna turned and walked away, her heels clicking with calculated calm.

Winter stood still for a moment, fingers tightening around the file. Then she exhaled slowly and returned to her seat, forcing her shoulders to relax.

Winter sat at her desk, staring blankly at the stack of files. Dianna’s words echoed in her mind, each one more grating than the last. She inhaled deeply, willing herself to focus, to not let it get under her skin.

But then the door creaked open again.

Without looking up, her temper snapped.

“What do you want now?” She snapped, eyes flashing toward the door, her voice sharp with irritation.

The words hung in the air for only a second before her gaze met his—and her anger evaporated.

Kalix stood in the doorway, brows raised slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Okay… should I be worried?” he asked, stepping inside, the door shutting quietly behind him. “Am I at risk of spontaneous combustion or just light verbal assault?”

Winter’s shoulders sagged as she ran a hand through her hair, mortified. “God, I thought you were Dianna.”

“Clearly,” he said dryly, his gaze scanning her face with a mix of curiosity and concern. “Do I want to ask what she did this time?”

Winter didn’t answer right away. She simply gestured to the mountain of files, the pile of work she’d fixed and redone—only to have it questioned and sabotaged again.

Kalix’s jaw tightened subtly as he walked closer. “She’s not in charge anymore, Winter. You are.”

“I know,” Winter sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That’s the only reason I’m tolerating her.”

Kalix moved around the desk and stopped beside her, resting a hand gently on her shoulder.

“But you’re still letting her words get to you,” he said, his tone softer now, the concern underlying his calm.

Winter closed her eyes as his fingers began to massage the tension in her shoulder, his touch slow and deliberate. The pressure melted into her skin, loosening the knots stress had left behind.

“Mmm… that feels good,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, finally letting herself relax.

Kalix leaned in, his lips close to her ear, his breath warm.

“I can make you feel even better… if you let me, wife.”

Winter’s eyes snapped open, her heart skipping at the word—wife—spoken so intimately, so confidently. She turned to look at him, stunned into silence by the heat in his gaze.

“I don’t want anyone walking over us, Kalix,” Winter said firmly, her eyes locking with his.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “So… you aren’t denying,” he teased.

Winter narrowed her eyes and abruptly pushed her chair back, creating space between them. “No. But you’re clearly twisting my words to your convenience.”

Kalix chuckled, unbothered. He admired her fire—it was one of the things he found most intoxicating. His wife might flirt with desire, but she always knew where to draw the line.

Winter, still slightly flushed, crossed her arms and tilted her head. “I’ll be heading to Greyson International later. I have a meeting with Grandpa,” she announced, her tone calm but resolute.

Kalix’s brows creased subtly, though he didn’t object. She had already told him why she needed to go—something about reviewing estate holdings and smoothing over family logistics. He trusted her judgment.

But in the back of his mind, an uneasy thought lingered.

Eric.

He didn’t bring it up, didn’t want to plant worry where there was none. Still, the idea of Winter running into that bastard—intentional or not—left a sour taste in his mouth.

“And do not worry, I will be careful not to cross my path with Eric,” she added, observing Kalix’s tense expression.

He might never say it aloud, but the name Eric would always be a thorn in his side—a quiet, enduring bane he could never quite ignore.