She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother - Chapter 205

Chapter 205: The Pitiful Niece
Catherine stood there waiting for his response, that mischievous smile playing at her lips — as if she’d just delivered checkmate and was savoring the moment — something shifted in Alex’s expression.

Not panic. Not defensiveness.

Appreciation.

‘She knows everything.’

The thought settled in Alex’s mind with surprising calm, clinical assessment overriding any impulse toward panic or defensive posturing.

‘Of course she does.’

Catherine Blackwood commanded resources that made comprehensive investigation trivial, had access to security footage, financial records, witness accounts… everything needed to reconstruct events with surgical precision.

The question isn’t what she knows. It’s what she plans to do with that knowledge.

His lips curved into a smile that matched hers exactly — the same knowing quality, the same edge of amusement.

“What a thorough research,” Alex said quietly, voice carrying genuine admiration wrapped in dry humor.

Catherine’s eyebrow rose fractionally, surprise flickering across her features.

“I never expected anything less from you, The Catherine Blackwood.”

The use of her full name landed with precision that made her smile widen.

Alex’s gaze held hers, silence breaking not with defense or deflection, but with acknowledgment that turned her interrogation into conversation between equals.

“I’ve heard a lot of things about you too.”

Catherine’s head tilted slightly, curiosity replacing surprise.

“About your dominant personality,” Alex continued, tone carefully calibrated. “Your fierceness, Your reputation for destroying anyone foolish enough to underestimate you.”

Catherine’s smile remained fixed, but something flickered behind her eyes… recognition that he’d done his own research.

“And most importantly your beauty.”

The addition came after deliberate pause, his gaze traveling slowly down her form… not leering, but frank masculine appreciation that acknowledged what was directly in front of him.

Water glistening on her shoulders. The black bikini. Long legs.

His gaze traveled back up to meet hers.

Catherine’s cheeks colored… barely, just enough that the faint blush was visible for a heartbeat before control reasserted itself, her expression smoothing back into amused confidence.

But Alex had seen it.

His smile widened fractionally.

“But I never had the chance to meet you in person,” Alex continued, giving her space to recover without drawing attention to the slip.

His gaze held hers.

“Especially like this.”

The two words hung between them, deliberately ambiguous.

Like this — at her private pool in a bikini, exposing a side of herself she let no one else witness.

Catherine stared at him, and for the first time since emerging from the pool, her control showed genuine crack.

Her lips parted, the beginning of a retort or perhaps a question but Alex didn’t give the impulse room to form.

He slid past the moment as if the previous subject had never existed, voice smooth and unhurried.

“You know…” he continued, effortlessly redirecting the conversation, “you understand your best friend better than anyone.”

Catherine’s eyebrow rose fractionally, interest sharpening.

“Then you’d also know how happy she is.”

He paused, letting that land, his gaze holding hers with steady certainty that suggested he understood exactly what game they were playing and had decided the rules no longer interested him.

“Then does it matter how I did it?”

Catherine’s laugh broke the tension like glass shattering, genuine and delighted, the kind of sound that suggested she’d been waiting for exactly this response and found it even more entertaining than expected.

“Happy,” she repeated, voice carrying undertone of admiration wrapped in disbelief. “Yes. She’s very happy.”

Her smile widened, taking on quality that made Alex’s instincts sharpen immediately.

“That’s why I’m even more curious.”

She let the moment stretch.

“Or even eager.”

The word choice felt intentional… not just interested, not merely intrigued, but eager in a way that suggested Catherine wasn’t here to condemn but to understand, maybe even to appreciate the sheer audacity of what she’d uncovered.

Alex didn’t flinch. He offered her nothing to work with.

That, more than anything, seemed to amuse her.

A soft exhale — not a sigh, not quite a laugh — escaped her, the sound of a predator adjusting expectations after discovering its prey had teeth of its own.

Her smile deepened.

“But before anything,” Catherine said, voice carrying note of mischief that made Alex’s instincts sharpen, “I should mention how impressed I am by your boldness or foolishness.”

A pause, deliberate and weighted.

“I didn’t just hear about it,” she continued, gaze holding his with intensity that suggested she was savoring every word. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

Alex’s expression remained carefully neutral, but something cold settled in his chest.

Saw what?

Catherine’s smile widened fractionally, as if she could read the question forming behind his controlled features.

“The bathroom at Victoria’s party,” she said quietly, each word delivered with precision that made euphemism unnecessary. “You and Victoria. Making out like teenagers who couldn’t wait another second.”

The words hung between them.

“Victoria Blackwood, always so controlled, so calculated, so perfectly composed, completely losing herself with a man young enough to be mistaken for a college student.”

“Behind a locked door,” Catherine continued, voice carrying undertone of genuine appreciation wrapped in amusement. “While the entire Enhanced elite gathered just outside. While her husband mingled with guests who would have crucified Victoria if he’d known what she was doing.”

She paused, letting that sink in… the full weight of the risk they’d taken, the catastrophic consequences that could have unfolded with a single wrong move.

“Can you imagine what would have happened to both of you?” Catherine asked, voice dropping lower, more serious now. “If someone else had sensed what I did? If James had decided to check on his wife?”

Her gaze sharpened.

“Even I could have mentioned it to James right then. Could have whispered in his ear that his wife was otherwise occupied. Let him discover you two himself.”

The threat hung in the air between them, unspoken implications crystallizing into something tangible.

Alex held perfectly still, his mind processing the reality of how close he’d come to complete disaster—not just social humiliation, but the kind of exposure that would have destroyed Victoria’s marriage, her reputation, possibly her life.

Stupid. Reckless. Completely idiotic decision-making.

But even as the assessment formed with clinical precision, even as he recognized the catastrophic risk they’d taken…

He didn’t regret it.

Not a single second.

“But you never did,” Alex said quietly, voice carrying certainty that cut through the tension. “You never told him.”

Catherine’s eyebrow rose fractionally, something that might have been approval flickering across her features.

“No,” she confirmed, watching his reaction with focused attention. “I didn’t.”

Catherine stared at him, and her smile shifted into something harder to read — not quite approval, not quite amusement, but something between them that suggested his question had pleased her.

“You want to know why?” she repeated, voice carrying undertone that made the question feel weighted with more significance than it should.

She stepped closer, reclaiming the intimate distance she’d established earlier.

“I assumed you were some… entertainment she’d hired for a moment of pleasure,” Catherine said, tone carrying note of clinical assessment.

“A temporary distraction. Something to be ignored given the urgency at that moment.”

Her smile took on quality that suggested the memory had proven far more interesting than expected.

“But who knew…”

She let the words trail off deliberately, watching Alex’s reaction with focused attention.

“Though I wanted to hear it from Victoria first,” Catherine added, almost as an afterthought.

“Wanted to see if she’d tell me herself, admit what she was doing. Give her the chance to explain before I drew my own conclusions.”

Her smile returned, carrying edge now.

“She did. Eventually. After I made it clear I already knew.”

Catherine’s gaze tracked across his face, cataloging every micro-expression.

“So yes, I’m impressed by your boldness. By your complete disregard for the consequences of being caught. By the way you made Victoria forget about everything except you.”

A pause.

“I’m even more impressed,” Catherine continued, choosing to glide past the question he’d refused to answer, “by how you took your revenge.”

Alex’s expression didn’t change, but something in him clicked… subtle, controlled, instinctive. A shift in weight, a minute tightening along his shoulders. Readiness, not alarm. Preparation.

Revenge? On whom?

Sophia? Hardly. He wasn’t finished… not even close.

But Catherine… Catherine spoke as if she’d already reached a conclusion, and she didn’t look like a woman interested in giving him the chance to correct it.

She wasn’t testing him anymore.

She was hunting for something.

Alex saw it in the way her eyes held his… unblinking, intent, unwilling to let any thread slip free.

Catherine’s gaze held his, and her smile took on edge that cut through the afternoon stillness.

“You even had her cut all the pocket money she provides to Sophia.”

The first detail, delivered with clinical precision.

Alex held perfectly still, giving her nothing, watching as Catherine cataloged his non-reaction with obvious approval.

She stepped closer — not much, just enough that the already intimate distance became something else entirely.

“But that’s not even the most impressive part, is it?”

Her voice dropped lower, meant only for the space between them.

“You even made my pitiful niece see it,” Catherine murmured. “The boy she tossed aside… and her own mother wrapped around him. Together. Intimate. Unmistakable.”

The words landed with surgical precision.

Not crude. Not crass. Just statement of fact delivered with the kind of directness that made euphemism unnecessary.

Catherine watched him process, her smile never wavering, enjoying every micro-expression that crossed his face despite his best efforts at control.

Then her expression shifted.

Not quite serious. Not quite playful.

Something predatory.

“But you’re not satisfied with this much revenge, are you?”