Mutter
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Chapter 1184: A “Tender” Father-Daughter Moment
🕑 Added 2025-06-15 20:00:03 +0000 UTCJack sat across from Megan, wineglass in hand. From the front pouch of his bulletproof vest, he pulled out the box JJ had given him and placed it on the coffee table. Glancing at the time, he spoke calmly.
“Factoring in traffic, your father won’t arrive at the hotel for at least another hour. And if necessary, I could even have the elevator malfunction—trap him in there a little longer.”
“That means we’ve got plenty of time. Don’t you think this would be a good moment to talk to an FBI agent?”
“Talk?” Megan gave a bitter smile. “And what would that change? The powerful men of the world will still do whatever they want. The FBI? You’re just their lapdogs.
Even if I speak, even if everything’s exposed, gets media attention, goes to court—I’ll still end up labeled a psychopath by some expert. Everything I’ve done will still be meaningless.”
You kind of are a little unstable… Jack suppressed the urge to respond sarcastically. Instead, he opened the box to reveal a row of tiny pinhole cameras. He picked one up and switched it on, then pointed it at Megan.
“Megan Kane, as the person involved, do you object to the FBI recording your conversation with a third party that may soon take place in this room?”
Despite showing no qualms about revealing herself in front of Jack earlier, Megan instinctively sat up straighter on the sofa and tightly wrapped her bathrobe around herself when she saw the device. Her expression turned guarded, eyes swirling with complex emotion.
“What are you trying to do, Jack?” she asked slowly, enunciating each word.
Am I not making it obvious enough? Jack sighed and stood, placing the small camera beneath the TV frame.
“Like you said, the men you want to expose—the ones you want to take revenge on—are all powerful. They can hire top lawyers to clear their names, even silence the FBI.
Or at least, that’s what they led you to believe, right? But what if these recordings showed up in court? What if they were leaked to the media? Would you still think everything you’ve done is meaningless?”
Megan’s expression shifted dramatically—shock, disbelief, confusion flickering one after another. When Jack raised the wineglass to his lips, she suddenly lunged toward him.
“Don’t drink it! It’s poisoned!”
“I know.” Jack wasn’t planning to drink it anyway. He raised the glass high to avoid spilling it and caught her in the other arm.
“So now, do you believe I’m here to help you?”
—
Ding-dong.
“It’s open,” came Megan’s familiar voice from inside. “Come in.”
Andrew Kane exhaled in relief and pushed the door open.
Megan was curled up on the sofa in her bathrobe, but this time, she wore a black lace outfit underneath—making her “professional image” even more striking.
“What are you…” Andrew averted his eyes in discomfort.
He’d seen scenes like this countless times—seductive women in alluring outfits—but when it was his own adult daughter, the fantasy evaporated into something grotesque.
“What? Did I disappoint you, Daddy?” Megan sneered, her eyes flicking toward the two glasses of wine on the coffee table.
Andrew tried to maintain a gentle tone. “How could you do this, Megan? Those men were innocent…”
“Innocent?” Megan wiped away a tear. “Let’s talk about how innocent and kind they were, shall we, Daddy?”
“I didn’t come here to hear this,” Andrew interrupted, raising a hand. “The FBI could show up any minute—”
But Megan didn’t let him change the subject. She threw off her robe.
“Joseph Fielding loved roleplay. These bruises on me? Very real.”
“Shut up!” Andrew barked, stepping forward, his voice lowered to a hiss.
“Hoyt Asift was your dinner guest all the time, right? You knew he knew the whole family. Guess how excited he was the first time he slept with me?” Megan’s voice grew louder.
“Don’t speak to me like that!” Andrew’s face flushed red with anger.
“I was so naïve once. I even asked you why those other women were better than Mom… until I…”
“Shut up, you whore!” Andrew exploded, lunging forward and grabbing his daughter by the throat. But almost immediately, he recoiled as if electrocuted, stumbling back.
“That’s right. This is your thing, isn’t it?” Megan growled. “Katherine told me—she thought you were going to strangle her more than once.”
The words hit Andrew like a thunderbolt. He staggered to the couch opposite her, holding his head in silence. Eventually, he spoke.
“If this was all just to punish me… then fine. You succeeded, my daughter.”
Megan stared coldly, her gaze seemingly unfocused—but in truth, it was fixed on the bathroom door behind him.
“I accept everything. This is all my fault,” Andrew continued with a calmness that was almost eerie. “I wronged your mother. I didn’t just leave her—I stripped her of the wealth that was rightfully hers.
But you, Megan—you’re still my daughter. Please, stop destroying yourself like this. You’re still so young. You have a long life ahead of you. Let me protect you this time.”
“Protect me?” Megan leaned her head back against the sofa, as if hearing a joke. “And how exactly will you do that?”
“You turn yourself in. My lawyer will post bail, and we’ll get you out of the country.” Andrew saw her wavering and immediately laid out the plan.
“Oh, just like last time, huh?” Megan sneered. “Give me some money, send me off to ‘travel the world,’ and the mess stays far away from you.”
“God…” Andrew muttered, lifting his head and meeting her eyes, tears brimming. “You’re my daughter.”
“I love you,” he whispered. “Please… let me help you. Let me do this for you. It’s three counts of murder. Texas has the death penalty.”
Megan seemed to remember that too—fear finally surfacing on her face. She curled her legs up, eyes wet. “I’m scared…”
“I know.”
Andrew rose from the sofa and knelt beside her, gently comforting her. “It’ll be okay. I’m here. Daddy will protect you.”
“You’ll stay with me?” Under the warm light, Megan looked fragile and heart-wrenchingly soft, all her hardened edges vanished.
“Of course.” Andrew brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, wiping her tears away.
“You promise?” Megan was barely able to speak.
“I promise,” Andrew said tenderly, pulling her into a warm embrace.
But the tender moment didn’t last.
After a few moments of caressing her back, Andrew whispered again.
“There’s one more thing I need.”
“What?” Megan’s sobs slowed, and her expression began to harden.
“Your client list.”
Megan froze. Slowly, she loosened her arms from around him.
