My Stepbrother Wants Me-Chapter 194: Who Was She Talking To?

Catherine’s POV

My heart hammered against my ribs as Gabriel’s eyes remained on mine. He was waiting for an answer. I had walked into the room ready to explode on Julian, ready to demand that something be done about the viper living under our roof, I had no idea Gabriel would be in here.

"She’s insulting my mother again, Gabriel," I fixed my hanging words immediately, my voice trembling with the very real fury I had felt just minutes ago. I let my shoulders slump, playing the part of the exhausted, emotionally battered daughter. "I was out there trying to talk to Ethan, trying to figure out how to help him deal with his loss and she still found a problem with it. She started in on how ’people like us’ handle grief. She called my mother a temporary infestation in this house. She told me we wouldn’t be here much longer."

I looked at Gabriel, making sure my eyes were filled with the threat of tears.

"She chose the absolute worst moment to be a monster," I continued, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Ethan is sitting here grieving, and all she can think to do is remind me that I don’t belong here. I was on the verge of losing it because I am tired of being the bigger person while she steps on my family."

Gabriel’s expression shifted instantly to what I would term a righteous anger. He straightened his posture, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

He looked toward the door, his jaw set. "She said that? I’m not surprised though. I hate how she picks on you. It infuriates me."

"But there’s nothing any of us can do," Julian interjected. He had been watching me with a look that told me he knew exactly what I was doing, but he was more than willing to play along. "She is helping Richard save a face, so he will never let us do anything to her."

"That’s crap," Gabriel snapped. He turned toward the door, his eyes flashing. "It’s because he has no idea who she really is. I’m going to talk to Richard, he should know how despicable Lucy it and make her understand that she doesn’t run this house."

"No!" I said, perhaps a bit too quickly. I reached out and caught his sleeve. "Please, don’t. Not now. It’s only going to create problems. We’re all tired, Gabriel. Ethan is tired. I just want a few minutes of peace."

Gabriel hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at me, then at the exhausted state of Ethan. The "good brother" in him was warring with the "protective brother."

"She can’t keep getting away with it," Gabriel muttered, though his posture relaxed slightly.

Just then, Gabriel got a call. He pulled it out, checked the screen, and let out a frustrated groan. "It’s the campaign manager. They’re downstairs with Richard. I have a document that he needs." He looked at me, then at Julian, sighing deeply. "Fine. I won’t start a war tonight. But I’m not letting this go, Catherine."

He gave me a nod before turning to Julian. "Keep an eye on your girl’s back. If she so much as breathes in the direction of Catherine... again, I’ll mess her up real bad."

He didn’t wait for an answer. He pulled the door open and disappeared. We all stood perfectly still, each person obviously trying to process their thoughts.

Another second later, I turned to Julian and Ethan, my face hardening.

"That was too close," Ethan whispered, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and burying his face in his hands. "He’s not stupid, Julian. He’s going to start putting things together if we keep this up."

"He won’t as long as we give him a narrative he likes," Julian said, walking over to his desk and picking up his phone. He started typing rapidly. "But Catherine’s right. We’re out of time. Lucy keeps acting all bossy because she thinks her shield is impenetrable. We need to do something to make Richard hate her."

Julian looked at Ethan, his expression becoming serious. "You need to get back to the apartment now. Tessa is alone, and Lucy might try to send someone to find her and check the ’work’ her hired guns failed to finish. You can’t be away from that door for another minute."

"I’m going," Ethan said, standing up. "I’m not leaving her side again."

"Wait," Julian said, stopping him with a hand on his chest. "I’m sending a ’delivery’ to your door. I have a private security detail; men who don’t answer to my father or the Vaughn payroll. They’ll be stationed in the lobby and at the back entrance of your building. They’ll look like couriers or maintenance, but they’ll be armed. If anyone who doesn’t live in that building tries to get to your floor, they’ll stop them."

Ethan nodded, a look of grim relief crossing his face. "Thanks, man."

"I’m guessing now it’s time to leave," Ethan added, checking the time on his phone. "Tessa’s still asleep, but I don’t want her to wake up to an empty house. She’s already terrified enough as it is."

"Hold on a bit," I said, stepping toward the closet where I kept a few of my travel bags. "I want to give you a few supplies to take back to her. She didn’t have anything at the hospital, and I know she’s going to need things if she’s going to be bedridden for the next few days."

I moved quickly, gathering a small bag. I stuffed it with some of the high-end prenatal vitamins I had bought for her, a few comfortable silk robes, and most importantly, a burner phone I had hidden in my drawer. I didn’t want her using her own phone; if Lucy had her number, she could track her or harass her.

"Tell her to use this phone if she needs me," I told Ethan, handing him the bag. "Don’t let her use the main line. And tell her... tell her I’m coming to see her tomorrow, no matter what."

Ethan took the bag, his eyes softening for the first time that night. "I’ll tell her. Thanks, Catherine. For everything."

Julian walked Ethan to the secondary staircase, the one that led out toward the side gardens and the guest parking. I didn’t follow them. I needed to get to the garage. I told Julian I was going to move my car to make room for the campaign staff’s vehicles, but my real goal was to see Ethan off and make sure no one was lurking in the shadows.

I walked through the quiet, cold corridors of the mansion’s ground floor. The house felt different tonight. I reached the side exit and stepped out into the evening air. The driveway was long, flanked by manicured hedges that looked like black walls in the twilight.

I started walking toward the garage, but something caught my eye at the far end of the driveway, near the main gates. A dark car, sleek sedan with tinted windows. Its lights were off, but the engine was idling, a low hum.

My heart skipped a beat. Standing beside the passenger window was Lucy.

She was leaning down, talking intensely to someone inside. I couldn’t see the driver’s face, but I could see the glow of a cigarette and the silhouette of a large man. Lucy didn’t look like a grieving daughter-in-law or a victim of my insults. She looked like a general giving orders. She was gesturing toward the house, then pointing back toward the city.

I felt a surge of cold curiosity. Who was she talking to? Was this the fixer? Was she arranging a second attempt on Tessa right here on Vaughn property?

I ducked behind a large stone planter, trying to get closer without being seen. I needed to hear a name, a location, anything that could give us an edge. I moved as silently as I could, my breath shallow. I was twenty feet away, just behind the shadow of a parked SUV, when Lucy suddenly straightened up.

She tapped the roof of the car twice. The sedan immediately shifted into gear, the tires crunching on the gravel as it zoomed off, disappearing through the gates.

Lucy stood there for a moment, watching the tail lights fade. Then, as if she could sense my presence, she turned slowly. Her eyes scanned the driveway until they landed directly on me.

I didn’t hide. I stepped out from behind the SUV, my face set in a hard line.

Lucy didn’t look startled. Instead, a slow, ugly smirk spread across her face. She smoothed her hair, tucked her hands into the pockets of her expensive coat, and began walking toward me with a leisurely, arrogant stride.

"Catherine," she called out, her voice breaking the night’s silence. "I didn’t realize you were a fan of the night. Is there a problem? You look a bit... pale. Even for you."

I stood my ground as she stopped a few feet away. The air between us was frigid. I looked toward the gate where the car had vanished, then back at her. "Who was that, Lucy? Planning a late-night delivery?"

Lucy laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that made my skin crawl. "Don’t be so dramatic. It was just an old friend dropping off some documents for Richard. You really should stop being so paranoid. It’s not a good look."

She stepped closer, her smirk widening until it reached her eyes. "You should go inside, Catherine. It’s getting cold."

She brushed past me, her shoulder hitting mine with just enough force to be an insult.