Chapter 58 #58
Chapter 58
~Third Person's POV~
The dining room had fallen into a silence so complete.
Jack Patterson stood in the doorway beside Monica, his smile never wavering as he surveyed the room. His eyes moved deliberately from face to face, Tyler, Dante, Dwayne, before finally settling on Cynthia with an intensity that made the air feel thick.
Tyler's brow furrowed as he studied Jack's features. Something about the man nagged at him, a sense of familiarity he couldn't quite place. Have we met before? he wondered, his mind cataloging business associates, old rivals, acquaintances from years past. Nothing clicked, but the feeling persisted.
Cynthia looked so pale.
"Hello everyone, as you all know I'm Jack Patterson, but you may not know that I’m Monica's boyfriend.” Jack said smoothly, his voice cutting through Monica's question like a blade. He moved further into the room with practiced ease, one hand resting lightly on Monica's lower back. "I apologize for the dramatic entrance. That wasn't my intention."
Dante's eyes narrowed as he watched his sister practically melt under Jack's touch. What the hell is Monica doing with him? The age gap was obvious, Jack had to be at least twenty years her senior. The same calculating businessman who'd appeared at SentientIQ just days ago, now suddenly dating his sister? Nothing about this sat right.
Dwayne's thoughts ran parallel to his brother's, though his suspicion cut deeper. Patterson. The name alone set his teeth on edge. First the partnership proposal, then those cryptic messages, and now this? Is he the one behind it? He studied Jack's face, searching for any tell, any hint of what lay beneath that polished exterior.
Shailyn found herself frozen, her hand gripping Dante's knee under the table. Jack Patterson. The businessman from the break room whose gaze had felt too knowing, too assessing. And now he was Monica's boyfriend? Her mind struggled to process the connection, the timing, the sheer impossibility of the coincidence.
Cynthia's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing shallow. No. Not him. Not now. Not here. Her mind raced through possibilities, calculations, desperate attempts to understand how this could be happening.
"Cynthia, dear," Tyler said carefully, his voice cutting through her panic. "Are you feeling alright? You look pale."
Everyone's attention shifted to her. Monica looked concerned. Dante looked confused. Dwayne looked suspicious. And Jack... Jack looked satisfied.
"I'm fine," Cynthia managed, though her voice came out strangled. She reached for her napkin with shaking hands. "Just... surprised. Monica didn't mention she was bringing anyone."
"Because I wanted it to be a surprise!" Monica said, her enthusiasm returning slightly. "Jack is amazing. We met a few weeks ago, and I just knew he was special."
"A few weeks?" Dante repeated, his voice sharp. "Monica, you've known this man for a few weeks and you're already bringing him to family Thanksgiving?"
"When you know, you know," Jack said, his smile widening as he looked at Monica with what appeared to be genuine affection. "Your sister is an extraordinary woman."
Liar, Dwayne thought, watching the interaction with growing disgust. You're using her. But for what? What did Patterson want with Monica? With their family?
Tyler continued to study Jack, putting two and two together. "Mr. Patterson, isn't it? From SentientIQ?"
"Please, call me Jack. We're practically family now, after all."
The words made Cynthia's hands clench in her lap. Family. The word tasted like poison.
"I'm still not clear on how you two met," Dante said, his tone making it clear he expected a detailed answer.
"At a gallery opening," Monica said quickly. "I was there with friends, and Jack was viewing the same exhibit. We started talking about the art, and..." she trailed off with a dreamy smile.
"And I was captivated," Jack finished, his hand finding Monica's. "Your sister has exquisite taste and a brilliant mind."
Shailyn watched the interaction with growing unease. Something about the way Jack spoke felt rehearsed, like he'd practiced these exact words. And Cynthia's reaction... Why does she look like she's seen a ghost?
"The age difference doesn't bother you?" Dwayne asked bluntly, his eyes locked on Jack.
"Dwayne!" Monica gasped. "That's rude."
"It's a fair question," Jack said mildly. "I'm forty-eight. Monica is twenty-six. Yes, there's an age gap. But age is just a number when two people connect on a deeper level."
“Bullshit.” Both Dante and Dwayne said simultaneously.
Tyler's mind continued working through the puzzle.
"Well," Tyler said carefully, "this is certainly... unexpected. Perhaps we should all sit down and continue our meal while we get to know Jack better."
"Wonderful idea," Jack said, pulling out Monica's chair with exaggerated chivalry. "I'd love to learn more about the Belmar family."
I bet you would, Dwayne thought darkly.
As everyone settled back into their seats, Cynthia remained standing, her composure hanging by a thread. "I need a moment," she said abruptly. "Excuse me."
"Mother…" Monica started.
"I said excuse me," Cynthia repeated, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.
She turned and walked toward the hallway with measured steps that barely concealed her urgency.
Jack watched her go, that same knowing smile playing at his lips. "Is she not comfortable with me dating her only daughter? Maybe I should talk to her personally and convince her it's of good intentions only."
"I don't think…" Tyler began.
"I insist," Jack interrupted smoothly. "First impressions are everything, and I'd hate for Mrs. Belmar to think I'm anything but concerned for her daughter's feelings."
He excused himself before anyone could protest further, following the path Cynthia had taken.
At the table, five people sat in uncomfortable silence, each lost in their own troubled thoughts.
What the hell just happened? Shailyn wondered.
…
Cynthia made it to the library before her legs gave out. She braced herself against Tyler's desk, her breath coming in short gasps. Think. Think. What does he want?
"Hello, Cynthia."
She spun around to find Jack closing the library door behind him, his expression no longer pleasant. Now it was cold, with a dark smile.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "What the hell are you playing at?"
"Playing?" Jack moved closer, his hands in his pockets. "I'm not playing anything. I'm dating your daughter. Isn't that nice?"
"You're using her," Cynthia spat. "Using her to get to me. But why? What do you want? Am I not enough for you?”
“I simply fell in love with your daughter.” He said, with a calculating gaze.
“Liar. After having sex with me?” Cynthia replied.
"Maybe Tyler would like to hear that, don't you think? And how you have been stealing documents from him.” Jack interrupted, his smile turning predatory.
Cynthia's face was drained of color. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you?" Jack pulled out his phone, swiping to a photo. He held it up, showing Cynthia an image that made her stomach drop. "Because I have proof. All kinds of proofs. You give me the documents, you think I won't back up my plan?"
"You can't…"
"I can," Jack said quietly. "And I will. Unless you cooperate."
"What do you want?" Cynthia asked, her voice breaking.
Jack's smile widened. "Everything."
From the hallway, a figure stood frozen, listening to every word.
The crystal vase they'd been carrying slipped from their trembling hands.
The crash was deafening.
Cynthia's head whipped toward the door, her eyes wild with panic. "Who's there?" she called out, her voice sharp with fear. "Who the hell is out there?"
Jack's expression shifted to something dark and satisfied.
And whoever had been listening ran.