Chapter 209: She Actually Wants to Be Her Stepmother
Chapter 209: She Actually Wants to Be Her Stepmother
Tara’ POV
I carefully observed Peter's expression as he reported his conversation with Jamie. The subtle shifts in his eyes told me he had obtained valuable information, but not the complete picture.
"She admitted someone hired her to disturb Howard's grave," Peter said, standing before me. "After I applied a little pressure, she became quite cooperative."
I leaned back in my chair, fatigue gradually seeping into my bones. "What was her motivation?"
"Money," Peter replied flatly. "Her son is getting married and needs funds for the wedding. The mysterious client's payment was extremely generous."
"Any name? Physical description?" I pressed further, feeling a dull throbbing beginning at my temples.
Peter shook his head. "Surgical mask, sunglasses. Typical anonymous disguise. But she provided the account number used for payment. She hopes this cooperation might help her avoid legal trouble."
My fingers drummed lightly on the desk as I considered our options. This mysterious figure was meticulous, always one step ahead of us. The approach uncomfortably reminded me of Howard's working style—precisely calculated, patient, thorough.
"Let me see that account number," I said, extending my hand.
Peter handed me a slip of paper. I immediately opened my laptop and began tracing the account, the familiar rhythm of hacking temporarily allowing me to forget my growing anxiety about Finn's safety.
Twenty minutes later, I closed my laptop in frustration. "Dead end. Shell account, already emptied and abandoned."
Peter's phone vibrated. He glanced at it and said, "Jamie can provide more details about the meeting location. I could check nearby surveillance footage."
A deep voice suddenly called from downstairs: "Tara! Where are you?"
I immediately recognized my father's impatient tone. Between Finn, Howard's ashes, and Luke, I had barely spoken to him for days. Guilt coiled in my stomach, mixing with everything else demanding my attention.
"Find out the exact location where Jamie met this person," I told Peter, standing up. "Time, place, every detail."
"Understood, Boss," Peter replied, already heading for the door.
"Tara!" My father's voice grew more insistent.
I exhaled slowly, preparing myself for the complaints to come. "Coming, Dad!"
---
My father stood in the center of the living room, his tall figure still commanding despite being past seventy. As I descended the stairs, his eyes—identical to mine in both shape and color—regarded me with displeasure.
"Finally remembered I exist?" he asked sharply.
I approached him with the respect I'd always shown him, despite having become a force in my own right, my attitude toward him never changing. "I'm sorry, Dad. Things at work have been particularly urgent lately."
His expression remained stern. "Too busy to spend time with your father? I've been here for two weeks, Tara. We've eaten together only three times, and each time you were looking at your phone."
The familiar guilt settled heavily in my chest. No matter how many lives I saved or criminals I stopped, disappointing my father still seemed to affect me more than I cared to admit. The desire for his approval was a weakness I had never fully overcome.
"You're right," I acknowledged. "I haven't been fulfilling my responsibilities. Once this situation is resolved, I'll make it up to you. Perhaps that trip to Italy you mentioned?"
He waved away my suggestion impatiently. "I don't want to go to Italy. I need to discuss something important with you."
Something in his tone made me tense. "What is it?"
"I need your blessing," he said, looking directly at me.
"My blessing?" I repeated, confused. "For what?"
"Sophia and I have decided to get married."
"Married?" My voice sounded foreign even to my own ears. "To Sophia?"
"Yes," he confirmed, his chin lifting stubbornly. "She understands me in a way few people have."
My thoughts raced. The woman he believed to be his sister-in-law was actually an actress hired by Luke to play this role. Now this impostor wanted to establish a legal connection with my father?
"Dad, she—"
"I know what you're going to say," he interrupted me, "but our connection is more important than conventional notions."
I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. How could I explain that the woman he loved wasn't who he thought she was without hurting him?
"This seems very sudden," I said cautiously. "Have you considered all aspects?"
"I've had plenty of time to think during your absence," he replied sharply. "Sophia has been by my side. She listens to me, cares for me. At my age, that's precious."
"But marriage? Is that necessary?"
His expression hardened. "I'm only informing you out of courtesy, Tara, not seeking permission. The wedding will happen whether you approve or not."
---
After my father returned to his room, I immediately summoned the fake Sophia to my study. The woman who had been impersonating my aunt for months entered gracefully, her mannerisms a careful imitation of the real Sophia Taylor.
"You wanted to see me?" she asked, with the gentle tone that had completely deceived my father.
I didn't mince words. "My father just told me about your... engagement." The last word tasted bitter on my tongue. "This wasn't part of our arrangement."
The fake Sophia—I'd never bothered to learn her real name—remained composed. "I understand your concern, but your father proposed to me. Initially, I tried to dissuade him, but he was very insistent."
"Then try harder," I said coldly. "Tell him you've changed your mind. Tell him you're not ready. Make up whatever excuse, but this wedding isn't happening."
She regarded me with surprising steadiness. "I don't think I can do that."
"What?"
"Your father is very determined," she explained, hands resting primly on her knees. "To be honest, I... I don't want to refuse him."
I stared at her, momentarily speechless. This woman hired to play a role was now trying to permanently embed herself in my family.
"Let me be clear," my voice dangerously low, "you were hired to provide companionship for my father. To make him feel less lonely. Not to become his wife. Not to exploit his loneliness."
Something flashed in her eyes—possibly defiance. "I'm not exploiting him. I genuinely care for him."
"You genuinely care for a man you were paid to pretend to know?" I couldn't hide the incredulity in my voice. "He only cares about you because he believes you're who you're pretending to be. You're literally living a lie."
She didn't flinch. "Does it matter? He's happy with me. I make him happy."
"It matters because it's built on deception," I snapped. "What happens when he discovers you're not really his sister-in-law? That everything he knows about you is fabricated?"
"He doesn't need to find out," she said simply. "And if he does, I believe our connection is strong enough to withstand it."
I almost laughed at her naivety—or perhaps it was calculated cunning. Either way, I wouldn't allow this to continue.
"End this engagement," I said firmly, "or I'll tell him exactly who you are."
The threat hung between us, heavy and explicit. To my surprise, the fake Sophia didn't appear frightened.
"If that's your choice," she said quietly, "I won't stop you. But think about what it will do to him. How hurt he'll be when he learns he was deceived, not just by me, but by his own daughter."
The calculated precision of her response gave me pause. She had thought this through more carefully than I'd given her credit for.
She rose gracefully from her seat. "I'll let you consider what's truly best for your father."
As she walked softly out of the room, I realized I had completely underestimated her. What should have been a simple arrangement had somehow turned into something far more complex—a situation that needed delicate handling.
---
After the fake Sophia left, I immediately reached for my phone. Luke had hired her, and now I needed him to fix this mess. I dialed his number, waiting impatiently for it to ring.
No answer.
I tried again. Still no response.
Annoyance mixed with a touch of concern prompted me to call James instead.
"James," I asked directly when he answered, "where is Luke?"
"Good afternoon, Miss Taylor," James responded with his usual politeness. "Mr. Carter isn't in the office today. He called to say he was working from home."
"He's not answering my calls," I said, walking to the window to gaze out at the garden.
"That's... unusual," James admitted, his tone subtly shifting. "He always answers mine. Let me try to reach him."
I waited, fingers tapping on the windowsill while James attempted to contact Luke. A minute later, he returned to the line.
"He's not answering my calls either," he reported, concern evident in his voice. "Would you like me to go to Lakeside Park to check on him?"
Luke not answering his phone could be nothing—or it could mean trouble. Given the recent poisoning incident and everything else that had happened, I couldn't dismiss it as mere coincidence.
"No, I'll go," I decided. "I'm closer."