She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother - Chapter 196

Chapter 196: The Confession
Adrian stood outside Catherine’s office, his breath coming slightly faster than professional composure should allow.

The assistant had disappeared inside moments ago, leaving him alone in the corridor with nothing but his thoughts and the weight of what he was about to do.

‘Now or never.’

He took a deep breath, forcing his shoulders to relax, his posture to straighten.

‘It’s not like she’s going to reject me, is she?’

The thought settled something in his chest… uncertainty replaced by confidence built on a foundation of assumptions he’d never properly examined.

‘I’ve been too careful. Too professional. Always maintaining distance, always acting like her subordinate, her guard.’

Adrian’s jaw tightened with sudden clarity.

‘That’s the problem. She sees me as an employee. As someone beneath her. How can she take me seriously as a marriage prospect if I keep bowing and scraping like every other person in this manor?’

His hands clenched briefly at his sides.

No more. Not today.

Today he would walk in there as a man… an equal. Someone proposing a partnership, not someone asking for permission.

Just an honest conversation between equals… about the future they were destined to build.

Adrian exhaled slowly, grounding himself in that thought… so focused, so wrapped in the certainty of his imagined future, that he didn’t even hear footsteps approaching.

The sudden click of the door jolted him.

He blinked, pulled abruptly from his thoughts as Catherine’s assistant stepped out with impeccable professional composure.

“Mr. Adrian,” she said, dipping her head politely. “Miss Catherine will see you now.”

Adrian nodded… not the deferential acknowledgment of a subordinate, but the brief recognition of one professional to another… and stepped forward with purpose that felt different from every other time he’d entered this office.

The office was exactly as he’d seen it countless times… elegant, functional, designed for power rather than comfort.

Floor-to-ceiling windows. Dark wood. Catherine’s desk positioned to command the space.

Catherine sat behind that desk, fingers steepled beneath her chin, dark eyes tracking him with an expression that revealed nothing.

Victoria sat in the chair to Catherine’s left, posture relaxed but attention sharp, watching him with something that looked uncomfortably like amusement.

Adrian crossed the office with measured steps, and when he reached the chair across from Catherine’s desk, he sat.

No bow. No salute. No “Miss Catherine” or formal acknowledgment of her authority.

Just sat down as if this were a meeting between equals.

‘Because it is,’ Adrian thought, settling into the chair with deliberate confidence.

Victoria’s reaction was instant… her lips twitched, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

She turned toward Catherine with an expression that practically screamed:

“Look at him.”

Catherine’s expression didn’t shift, but something flickered in her eyes… recognition of the breach, calculation of its implications… and the faintest edge of cold annoyance beneath perfect composure.

Adrian met Catherine’s gaze directly, forcing himself to project confidence despite the way his heart hammered in his chest.

“Catherine,” he began, using her first name without honorific for the first time in their entire acquaintance.

“You look tired. Long day?”

The question came out with studied concern, the tone a man might use with his girlfriend after a difficult week.

Catherine’s eyebrow rose fractionally.

“It’s been… productive,” she said after a pause.

“Good. That’s good.” Adrian nodded as if this were perfectly natural conversation. “You work too hard sometimes. I worry about you burning out with all the succession pressure.”

Victoria made a small sound… something between a cough and a strangled laugh… and Adrian caught it in his peripheral vision but kept his attention on Catherine.

“Your concern is noted,” Catherine said quietly, her voice carrying that particular neutral quality Adrian had learned to recognize but never properly interpret.

“Of course.” Adrian leaned back slightly, trying for the relaxed confidence of someone comfortable in this dynamic. “I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. The stress you’re under… it’s not sustainable without proper support.”

He paused, and his next words carried carefully measured weight.

“Speaking of which… how’s everything going? With the succession situation?”

Catherine’s fingers remained steepled, her dark eyes fixed on him with unnerving steadiness.

“As I’m sure you’re already aware,” she said, each word precisely articulated, “the situation remains… complex.”

Adrian caught the deflection immediately… answering without revealing anything, the political non-answer he’d heard her deliver to rivals and allies alike.

She’s guarding herself. From me. After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve positioned myself to offer, she still doesn’t trust me with the details.

The realization stung more than he wanted to admit.

“Catherine,” he said, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more urgent. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. You know that, right?”

He leaned forward, the careful distance he’d maintained crumbling under the pressure of need and desperation mixing into something he told himself was protective concern.

“Whatever you’re dealing with… Richard’s moves, the internal families wavering, the political pressure… you don’t have to carry it alone anymore.”

He met her eyes directly, his tone measured and deliberate… not the reassurance of someone oblivious to the stakes, but the offer of someone who’d been watching, learning,

His hand moved across the desk surface, reaching toward where her hands rested flat on the polished wood.

Do it. Show her. Show her you’re the man who can handle every pressure in her world… someone she can rely on, not just a guard standing at her door.

His fingers trembled slightly… invisible to anyone without Enhanced perception, but he felt it like an earthquake in his bones.

What if she pulls away? What if this is too much, too fast?

But he’d committed to the gesture, hand already moving, and pulling back now would be worse than the risk of touching her.

She needs to know. Needs to feel that someone is here for her. That I’m here.

His palm settled over her hand… soft skin, delicate fingers that wielded power with surgical precision in political negotiations but felt like silk under his touch.

I’m touching her. Actually touching her.

The thought exploded through his consciousness with significance that bordered on euphoria.

Her hand. In mine. So soft. Like rose petals. This is real. This is happening.

Time seemed to slow, every sensation magnified… the warmth of her skin, the slight texture of her palm, the way her fingers didn’t immediately pull away.

She’s not moving. Not pulling back. That means something. Has to mean something.

“You know I’m always here for you,” Adrian continued, his voice rough with emotion he didn’t bother hiding anymore. “As family. As a friend. As… whatever you need me to be.”

His grip tightened slightly, thumb brushing across her knuckles in what he imagined was reassuring pressure.

He paused, gathering his thoughts, the speech he’d prepared for months finally ready to emerge.

“My family… the Blackwells… we’re positioned to offer substantial support in your succession battle. My father commands significant influence among the internal families. The ones whose votes actually matter.”

Catherine’s expression remained neutral, but she was listening.

“We can swing undecided factions,” Adrian continued, confidence building as he laid out the political reality. “Counter Richard’s aggressive offer-making. Provide the coalition strength you need to secure decisive support rather than fragile majority.”

He leaned in slightly, voice lowering… this was the part he wanted her to truly hear.

“And I…”

His chest tightened with both pride and anticipation.

“I, Adrian Blackwell… the sole heir of House Blackwell, the generational prodigy my family has invested everything into…”

He let the weight of the words settle between them.

“…am ready to stand beside you. Ready to help you claim what’s rightfully yours. Ready to be the partner you need to navigate House Blackwood’s politics and emerge victorious.”

Victoria shifted slightly in her chair, and Adrian caught the movement in his peripheral vision but kept his attention locked on Catherine.

“That’s quite generous,” Catherine said quietly, each word measured. “Your family’s support would certainly be… valuable.”

She paused, and her next words carried weight that made Adrian’s confidence falter slightly.

“But you haven’t answered the obvious question.”

Her dark eyes locked onto his with intensity that felt like physical pressure.

“Why would you do that?”

Catherine’s voice cut through his declaration with surgical precision… quiet, cold, carrying weight that made Adrian’s words die in his throat.

Her hand moved.

Not gently. Not with the careful consideration one showed a suitor whose feelings deserved acknowledgment.

She pulled her hand away from his grip with sharp, dismissive efficiency… the gesture one used to swat away an insect that had landed somewhere it didn’t belong.

“Why? Why would your family commit such substantial political capital to support my succession? and what are you asking for in return?”

The question hung in the air between them… direct, unavoidable, cutting through all the carefully constructed political language to the actual transaction beneath.

Adrian’s heart rate spiked, but this was it. The moment he’d been building toward.

Now.

“Because…” He paused, forcing himself to hold her gaze. “You also know how much I love you.”