She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother - Chapter 192
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Chapter 192: The Heir’s Burden
Earlier This Morning
Adrian Blackwell moved through Thornhaven Manor’s western wing with practiced efficiency, his Enhanced perception tracking security details with the kind of attention that had become second nature over the past year.
Everything was normal.
The perimeter guards maintained their rotations with precision.
The surveillance systems showed no anomalies.
The estate’s defensive formations hummed with steady power that spoke of regular maintenance and expert calibration.
Just another day.
Except it wasn’t.
Today, Catherine had a meeting scheduled. A visitor… someone important enough that she’d requested Victoria Blackwood personally escort them.
Which meant Adrian and the rest of the security team had spent the morning ensuring every detail was perfect, every contingency planned, every potential threat assessed and neutralized before it could even approach the gates.
Adrian paused at the third-floor window overlooking the main entrance, his Peak Enhanced senses sweeping the grounds one more time.
Perfect, he thought, a brief pulse of professional satisfaction running through him.
Of course he wanted her impressed.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Not openly… not pathetically…
but enough that every detail about him sent the right signal the moment she laid eyes on him.
‘Catherine will have no reason to…’
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
Once. Twice. The specific pattern that made his Enhanced body tense involuntarily, professional composure cracking for just a moment before he forced it back into place.
Adrian pulled out his phone, and the name on the screen made his jaw tighten despite his best efforts at control.
Father
Not “Dad.” Not “Home.” Just “Father”—cold, formal, exactly as the man preferred.
Adrian’s Enhanced perception swept the corridor automatically, confirming he was alone, before he turned sharply and headed toward his private quarters.
The luxurious room Catherine had assigned him when he’d positioned himself on her security detail a year ago… spacious, well-appointed, designed for someone of his status as heir to the Blackwell family.
A gilded cage that grew smaller with every passing month.
He reached his door, slipped inside, and engaged the privacy wards with practiced efficiency. Only when he was absolutely certain no one could overhear… no Enhanced ears, no surveillance, no possibility of anyone discovering this conversation… did Adrian answer the call.
“Father,” he said, keeping his voice level, professional, giving nothing away.
The voice that responded was old… seventy-two years that should have weakened a normal man but only seemed to have concentrated power in this one.
Apex Realm power that made even Peak Enhanced practitioners like Adrian feel like children playing at strength they didn’t truly understand.
And there was no preamble. No greeting. No acknowledgment that this was his son he was calling.
Just four words, delivered with absolute expectation of immediate answer:
“How much progress?”
Adrian blinked, thrown off balance despite years of experience with his father’s directness.
“What?”
“Don’t play stupid with me, boy.” The old man’s voice carried edge that suggested his patience… never abundant… was already wearing thin.
“I’m asking whether you’ve completed the mission I assigned you, or if you’re still simping around that girl like a lovesick puppy.”
The crude phrasing hit like a physical blow, and Adrian felt heat rise in his face… shame and anger mixing in equal measure.
“I’m working on it,” Adrian said, forcing confidence into his voice that he didn’t quite feel. “Catherine is…”
“You’re working on it,” his father interrupted, and now the anger was open, undisguised.
“You’re working on it. I’ve been hearing that same pathetic excuse for almost a year now, Adrian. One year. And you haven’t made even marginal progress toward the objective.”
The old man’s voice sharpened further, and Adrian could picture him perfectly… sitting in his study at the Blackwell family estate, Apex presence pressing against the air itself, his dark eyes holding the kind of disappointment that had motivated Adrian his entire life through sheer terror of experiencing it.
“What the fuck are you even doing there?” his father continued, each word deliberate, precise, designed to cut.
“You were supposed to be the youngest Peak Enhanced in a decade. The prodigy. The heir who would elevate our family’s position within House Blackwood’s hierarchy. And I sent you on one simple task… seduce Catherine Blackwood before succession politics crystallize. Make her fall for you so completely that when she becomes House Head, the Blackwell family’s position becomes unassailable.”
His voice dropped, becoming almost conversational… which somehow made it worse.
“One simple task, Adrian. Seduce a woman. Use that face you inherited from your mother, that Enhanced realm capability you got from me, that prestigious bloodline and political position that most men would kill for. Make Catherine Blackwood want you badly enough that she can’t imagine her future without you in it.”
Adrian’s jaw clenched, his free hand forming a fist that made his knuckles white with pressure.
‘Simple,’ he thought bitterly. ‘He calls it simple.’
“Don’t tell me,” his father continued, and now there was something worse than anger in his voice… there was contempt,
“…that you’ve fallen for her instead. That I sent you there to seduce her, and you’ve gotten yourself seduced like some naive fool who can’t separate mission from emotion.”
Adrian opened his mouth to respond… to defend himself, to explain, to say anything that might restore even a shred of his father’s respect… but nothing came out.
Because the old man was right.
He had fallen for Catherine.
Not immediately. Not at first, when he’d arrived at Thornhaven Manor with clear objectives and absolute confidence in his ability to complete them.
Catherine was beautiful, yes, but Adrian had been around beautiful women his entire life.
Beauty was currency in Sacred House politics, and he’d learned young how to appreciate it without being controlled by it.
But Catherine…
Catherine wasn’t just beautiful. She was brilliant.
Politically sophisticated in ways that made most House members look like amateurs. Strong enough in Enhanced Realm to command respect from practitioners twice her age.
And she carried authority the way other women carried perfume… naturally, unconsciously, as if leadership was simply her default state rather than something she needed to perform.
And her presence…
God, her presence made him nervous in ways he’d never experienced before. Made him second-guess words before speaking them.
Made him hyperaware of every gesture, every expression, every microscopic indicator of her approval or disapproval.
‘You’re Adrian Blackwell,’ he reminded himself, trying to claw back even a shred of composure. ‘The heir of House Blackwood’s most prestigious vassal family. The prodigy everyone praised. The man women would kill just to be noticed by.’
‘Power, bloodline, talent, looks… you have every advantage. Seducing her should be effortless.’
‘You should be able to seduce her easily.’
But theory and reality were very different things.
“Why are you silent?” his father snapped, the words cracking through the room like a whip. “Speak, Adrian.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“I… I’m trying,” he managed, the smallest stutter betraying him. “I’m doing everything I can…”
“Trying?”
His father’s voice rose, cold fury pouring through every syllable.
“Pathetic.”
The word hung in the air like a curse, and Adrian felt something break inside his chest… pride, confidence, the image of himself he’d maintained for twenty-eight years of being called a genius, a prodigy, the next great Blackwell heir.
“I’m giving you three days,” his father said, his voice taking on the flat finality that meant the decision was already made and arguing would only make things worse. “Three days to complete the mission you’ve been failing at for twelve months. Seduce Catherine Blackwood. Make real, measurable progress toward establishing romantic and political attachment. Show me that you’re actually capable of completing the task I assigned you.”
He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was cold enough to freeze.
“Or come home. Focus on your breakthrough to Apex Realm and accept that you’re not suited for this kind of work. I’ll send someone else… someone who can separate professional objectives from personal feelings… to handle Catherine Blackwood.”
Another pause, heavier than the first.
“So much for the generational genius,” his father muttered, the words barely audible but carrying more weight than a shout.
The call ended.
No goodbye. No encouragement. No acknowledgment that this was his son he’d just shredded.
Just silence.
Adrian stood in his luxurious room, phone still pressed to his ear, staring at nothing while his father’s words echoed in his mind with the precision of expertly placed daggers.
Three days.
Pathetic.
So much for the generational genius.
His hand trembled slightly… barely visible even to his own Enhanced perception, but present. Anger and shame warred in his chest, making his breathing uneven despite years of cultivation training that should have given him perfect control.
‘He’s right,’ Adrian thought, the admission tasting like poison. ‘I’ve been here a year. One year. And I haven’t made any progress at all. Every attempt to get closer to Catherine has failed. Every strategy has backfired or been ignored. Every moment I spend near her just makes me more aware of how completely outmatched I am.’
He moved to the floor-length mirror mounted on the wall, staring at his own reflection with something approaching desperation.
The face looking back should have been confident… twenty-eight years old, Peak Enhanced Realm, positioned less than a year from Apex breakthrough, heir to prestigious bloodline, handsome by any objective standard. Everything a man needed to succeed in Sacred House politics.
‘So why can’t I do this?’