The Tyrant's Wife

Chapter 89 - A Harmless Father-son Talk

"Your reputation isn't all that good." She shrugged at his words and resumed driving. Whose fault was it that his words could not be easily trusted?

"Do you trust me?" He asked, even after hearing her statement and knowing what the answer was probably going to be.

She frowned slightly. "Trust is a strong word. But that doesn't mean I like you any less. I mean, it's part of you. Do I have a choice?"

Her words took him by surprise, then he found her funny and laughed. "You look and sound so cute right now."

"Don't get used to it. I'm not always like this." She retaliated while taking the route to his house.

"Yeah, it's probably momentary. You might soon go back to the ordinary version of yourself, or worse, to the snarky one that seems to have something against everything I do—including breathing." He laughed when she rolled her eyes and then he continued, "which is why I'll be a fool if I don't take full advantage of it."

As soon as he spoke, his hand snaked around her waist, then made its way back, and slid onto her knee which was exposed by the skirt she was wearing.

"I'm driving. Keep your hands to yourself or I'll make sure I'm the last thing you touch." She threatened, since his actions were distracting her and making her lose focus from the road.

However, he took her words as some sort of flattery and smiled like he had heard the most romantic thing. "That would be awesome. It would be the greatest honor to my hands."

She glared at him fiercely, as though she was ready to slice his hands right off, along with his mouth that was speaking a ton of nonsense.

"Okay. I'll behave myself." He retracted his hands, even though her thighs were just too tempting to ignore. Not just her thighs, he wanted to touch and explore every part of her body, but she was right. He shouldn't do that while she was driving or else he might lose control and cause a fatal accident.

When they arrived at his mansion, she sat on a sofa far away from his favorite spot in the living room, but he knew it had nothing to do with avoiding him. If she wanted to avoid him, she would not agree to go to his place.

"What would you like to drink? Coffee?" He offered, knowing that she must be tired and thirsty after such a long day at work. She shook her head so he tried again. "Wine?"

"No, it's okay." She tried to calm down to stop her head from hurting.

Observing that she must be feeling under pressure thanks to what she was about to tell him, he sat down beside her and placed his hands on either side of her back. "You don't have to feel obliged to tell me anything. If it's making you uncomfortable, then forget about it."

She smiled in relief at how considerate he was, but she shook her head. "It's harder to keep it in. Seeing how hard you are trying to search for the truth, how can I bear to not tell you what I know?"

He thought of a possibility and his fist clenched. "If you are being threatened to keep your mouth shut by anyone..."

"Jaime hasn't sought me yet. But I know he will." She interrupted him. "I already know how to handle him when he does."

He didn't comment on her words, but he made a mental note to ensure she didn't go anywhere on her own.

"About that night, no one else was at your house except your dad, Samantha and Jaime." She started, and Desmond frowned.

He knew it. The real murderer had to be either of those two bloody fools who thought they had the world revolving around them.

She snuck a glance at him before she continued, "Samantha left and it was just the two of them left.

…..

~11th August, at night.

"Jaime, we need to talk." Said Marchal Fort, glancing at his son who was about to leave the living room.

The man turned around with an inexplicable grin. "That, we do."

"Let's go to my study." Marchal suggested, but Jaime had other plans in mind.

"Why do we have to hide behind closed doors when we have a normal father-son conversation? Let's do it right here."

Marchal pondered for a few seconds. The servants never left their rooms unless they were needed to, while Samantha had left and on the other hand, Alyssa was not home either. He decided that it was not worth it to waste time just trying to convince his stubborn son to follow him to the study.

"I know what you have in your possession." He lowered his voice to state affirmatively. "Your mother gave it to you, didn't she?"

….

~The Present.~

"Perhaps the surveillance cameras glitched and the audio recorder stopped working for some minutes, but I find it more plausible to believe that the hacker muted some parts of the video. Perhaps whatever the two talked about was not that important? I don't understand geniuses' trains of thought either." Zaria explained that she did not know what Marchal and Jaime talked about. "However, your father and brother looked like they were arguing. I think it's about whatever is in Jaime's possession that was given to him by your mother."

"The property ownership and transfer documents." He filled in the blanks with the information that his mother had told him before.

"I guess. Anyway, it was heated and your dad... Tried to kill Jaime."

Desmond was not shocked by this piece of news. According to how Alyssa had described the situation, paired with the gravity of the fact that the documents were in Jaime's possession, it was indeed not surprising for him to try and get rid of Jaime.

For a second, he couldn't help but wonder if it was possible that Marchal had initiated the attack and Jaime had only killed him for self defense. However, he knew his brother well enough and would never mistake him for the victim. Besides, he believed that self-defense was instinctive. The victim would not have the time nor the psychotic desire to dismember the assailant.

He waited for Zaria to continue and she did. "He missed the attack. Then he tried to leave and go upstairs after speaking for a few seconds. He seemed to have calmed down, and he even held his palms together in front of his face—I guess he was apologizing. But as soon as he turned to leave, Jaime threw a knife through his back. The rest of it is... Unbearable to watch or talk about." She closed her eyes just thinking about it.

She didn't watch through the entire video and wanted to erase what she saw from her memory, even though the hacker had pixelated the gore.

All she knew was that later, Samantha returned.

" What did you do?" She asked through a yell.

"You saw nothing." Jaime glared at her from the unbearable pieces of flesh and blood that were their father just a short while ago.

"This is what we planned. I'm making our dreams come true, Sam." He smiled, while Samantha continued to stare at him in shock.

"But you didn't have to do it this way. You could have faked an accident or something." Said Samantha, and Jaime laughed at her silly logic.

"Are you saying that it's alright to kill people as long as you do not dismember them? Don't be naive my sweet little sister. Come here, help me clear all traces of myself. We can still hold that bitch responsible."

Samantha trembled as she picked the knife and took out her handkerchief, then wiped the handle of the knife and looked at Jaime as though wondering whether to leave the knife in the crime scene.

"Bury it somewhere." Jaime ordered and Samantha nodded.

He was about to turn to leave when he caught sight of a maid trembling while holding her phone.

"Don't do anything you shouldn't. Otherwise, You will be next." He laughed and continued walking away. The maid threw her phone to the floor to prove that she would not do anything that was not required of her, much to Jaime's satisfaction. Two steps later, he grabbed a ceramic vase and threw it in the maid's direction.

"Drag her away." He commanded Samantha, referring to the maid who was now on the floor with blood spluttering from her head.

"Yes." Samantha resigned to her fate. It would be midnight soon and Alyssa would return, so she had to hurry. When she was done removing the bloody shards, burying them and cleaning the floor except the past where Marchal's body was, Jaime had yet another order for her like she was his minion.

"Now, be a good girl and wait for that bitch to come home. You already know what to do once she arrives."