My Stepbrother Wants Me-Chapter 118: You Couldn’t Do A Simple Task!

Catherine’s POV

The whole pretense was finally over. Currently, we were all lined up, stepping out of the Sterling estate. Our limousine drove to the entrance and the driver stepped out, opening the door for us. We got in one after the other.

Richard sat in the rear-facing seat, unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket, and grabbing a glass and bottle of amber whiskey. While pouring the content into the glass cup, he looked like a man who had just conquered a small country. He didn’t even look at us. He stared out the window, a small, triumphant smirk playing on his lips.

"Six hundred thousand for a weekend at the estate," he murmured, more to himself than to us. "The Sterling endorsement is as good as signed. Tonight was a masterpiece."

Beside me, Lisa was huddled against the door. She had her eyes closed, her head resting against the glass. She must have been really worn out from all that standing and fakeness. This wasn’t her thing... clearly. But what was she expecting when she agreed to marry a man who’s into politics? A man whose name is always on the front papers.

"Lisa," Richard called, his voice cutting through the silence like a scalpel.

My mother flinched but she didn’t open her eyes. I saw how her fingers twitched against her clutch. "Yes, Richard?"

"You hesitated when you spoke to Senator Higgins," he said, his tone devoid of the warmth he’d performed on stage. It was flat and clinical. "You stumbled over the details of the charity initiative. It made you look unprepared. It made us look disorganized."

"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. "My head... the lights were so bright, and my eyes started to throb. I think the makeup was irritating it."

Richard turned his head slowly, his gaze landing on her with the cold precision of a predator. "Weakness is not an excuse for incompetence, Lisa. You had just one job: to be the perfect reflection of my success. If you can’t manage that, you aren’t a partner. You’re a liability."

I felt my blood boil. I reached for the handle of the door, as if I could jump out of a moving car just to escape the sound of his voice. Julian, sitting next to me, reached out and gripped my hand. His skin was cold, his hold iron-clad. He didn’t look at me, but the message was clear that he wanted me to stay silent and not give him a reason to make us feel beneath him.

"We will continue this discussion when we get home!" His voice thundered as he continued to look out the window.

We finally arrived at our mansion and stepped into the house. The staff had already gone to bed for the night, leaving the house to its own ghosts.

The moment the front door clicked shut, the performance ended completely. Richard tossed his keys onto the console table with a sharp clack.

"Gabriel, Julian, Catherine, go to bed," he commanded, not looking back. "Lisa, in the study. We need to discuss your performance before you forget the details of your failures."

"I was already going. Goodnight everyone, I’m so drunk and exhausted," the words prattled out of his mouth, as he dragged his feet upstairs.

While he disappeared, Lisa turned to look at me, her makeup had begun to wear thin, and I could see the faint, dark edge of the bruise Richard had told her to hide. Her eyes were wide, and I could feel her pleading, even though she didn’t say a word. She turned and followed him toward the doors of the study.

"No," I hissed, starting forward. "He can’t just—"

Julian’s arm shot out, barring my path. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face him.

"Don’t," he whispered, his face inches from mine. His eyes held a serious warning. "If you go in there now, Catherine, you make it worse. He’ll take it out on her for ’corrupting’ you. He’ll make her pay for your defiance."

"Bu— but can’t just leave her!" I whispered back, tears of frustration stinging my eyes. "He’s going to hurt her, Julian. You saw how he was looking at her."

"I know," Julian said, his voice breaking. He looked at the study doors, his jaw working. "I’ve spent fifteen years watching him do this. You think I don’t want to tear that door off its hinges? But I know how he works. He wants a reaction. He wants us to interfere so he can prove he has the power to crush all of us at once."

He pulled me toward the grand staircase with a gripping firm. "We wait. We find another way. But not tonight. We had enough to deal with already."

I let him lead me up the stairs, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed by a cold hand. We reached the landing, the silence of the second floor made my mind so curious. What could be going on between them? What was Richard telling my mom? We stood there for a beat. Suddenly, a sound tore through the quiet.

It was a muffled crash, it was an unmistakable sound of something hitting the floor and shattering. It was followed by a sharp, stifled cry that was cut off almost as soon as it began.

I froze, my hand flying to my mouth. Julian’s grip on my arm tightened until it was painful. We both stared down into the darkened hall.

"Julian?" I called with a teary voice. "Are we really not going to do anything to help my mom?"

He avoided looking at me and I already knew his response to my question.

Without holding back, I began to let the tears flow down my eyes and my voice croaked out. Julian immediately reached out for him. "Hey, don’t cry. Richard won’t lay a hand on her, especially when he knows we are here."

I raised my head to look at him. "Really?"

He brushed his thumb against my skin, wiping my tears, "yes. He isn’t that stupid. We could testify against him if he tried that. The noise we heard could be him trying to pass his anger on a helpless glass cup or bottle."