I Married My Ex's Billionaire Father
Chapter 241: Find A Solution Immediately

Chapter 241: Find A Solution Immediately

Ophelia stormed into the grand salon, her heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor. The lingering scent of expensive perfume and the faint echo of hushed voices filled the air, remnants of the unwelcome visitors who had dared to trespass on her family’s privacy. Her mother, Faye, sat in her usual armchair, her gaze distant, her expression fragile.

"Mother!" Ophelia’s voice rang out, sharp and accusatory. "How could you allow those... those people into this house? Talking about our family business, our personal affairs, with complete strangers!"

Faye’s eyes fluttered, her gaze shifting to Ophelia, her expression momentarily clearing. "Ophelia?" she whispered, her voice frail. "Is that you, Ophelia?"

"Yes, Mother, it is me," Ophelia said, her voice laced with exasperation. "And I am appalled that you would allow such a breach of decorum. This is our home, not some public forum for gossip and speculation."

Faye’s expression shifted, her eyes clouding over again. "They were talking about Maeve," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "They said... they said she had a daughter, I... have a granddaughter."

Ophelia’s breath hitched. She had feared as much. Those women, those interlopers, were trying to exploit her mother’s fragile state, to manipulate her into validating their fabricated claims. And if her mother got involved it could become messy.

"They are lying, Mother," Ophelia said, her voice firm and reassuring. "They were trying to deceive you. They have no right to be here."

Faye’s gaze drifted away, her mind wandering back into the labyrinth of her memories. Ophelia sighed, her frustration mounting. Dealing with her mother’s erratic behavior was becoming increasingly difficult, especially now that these opportunists were trying to exploit her vulnerability.

"Mother," Ophelia said, her voice laced with a hint of impatience, "you must remember that you cannot just trust everyone who comes to this house. Some people have... ulterior motives."

Suddenly, Faye’s hand shot out, her fingers grasping Ophelia’s arm with surprising strength. Ophelia gasped, her eyes widening in shock. Even in her frail state, Faye’s grip was firm, almost painful.

"I know what you did, Ophelia," Faye said, her voice cold and clear, a stark contrast to her usual rambling.

Ophelia’s heart pounded in her chest. She stared at her mother, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and disbelief. What did she mean? What did she know?

"What are you even talking about, Mother?" Ophelia asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Faye’s eyes, usually clouded and distant, were now sharp and focused, filled with an unsettling intensity. "I know that you killed Maeve," she said, her voice low and menacing. "You took her away, you took away my baby girl."

Ophelia’s breath hitched. She could not believe what she was hearing. Her mother, in a moment of clarity, had accused her of murder.

"That’s... that is just ridiculous, mother." Ophelia stammered, her voice barely audible. "You don’t know what you’re talking about and i don’t know who fed you this nonsense."

"I know everything," Faye said, her grip tightening. "You have always been jealous of her. You have always wanted what she had."

Ophelia’s fear turned to anger. She forcefully pulled her arm away from Faye’s grasp, her eyes flashing with rage. "You are delusional, Mother," she hissed. "You are imagining things, this dementia is worse. I should call the doctor at once."

She glared at her mother, her expression a mask of cold fury. Then, without another word, she turned and stormed out of the salon, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.

She rushed home, her mind reeling from the confrontation. She had to tell Edward. She had to tell him what her mother had said and she needed to find a solution immediately.

She found him in his study, engrossed in a financial report, a glass of brandy in hand. He looked up as she entered, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern.

"Ophelia? What is wrong this time?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity. "You look... shaken."

"It’s mother," Ophelia said, her voice trembling slightly. "She... she accused me."

Edward’s eyebrows furrowed. "Accused you of what?" he asked, his confusion evident.

"Of killing Maeve," Ophelia said, her voice barely audible. "She said... she said she knows what I did."

Edward shrugged nonchalantly, "your mother is crazy, she is always saying crazy things." He said dismissively, "everyone knows that she is not in her right mind, no one is going to believe her."

"Well, she was perfectly lucid," Ophelia said, her voice sharp. "She looked at me, Edward, and she knew. She knew everything."

Edward’s gaze shifted away from hers, his unease growing. "What do you have to be worried about? It’s not like you really killed Maeve, she succeeded."

Ophelia’s eyes narrowed and she turned around and quickly shut the door. "When will you learn not to just speak?" She shrieked, "this is how we got in trouble the other time."

"Whatever," she said, her voice cold and resolute. "We have a problem and we need to find a solution immediately."

Ophelia stiffened, her eyes locking with Edward’s. "We have to get rid of her," she said, her voice barely audible.

Edward nodded quietly, He hesitated, his gaze shifting away from hers. "But... how?" he asked, his voice resolute. "Tell me what you need me to do."

"We have to make sure that she does not pose a problem for us, Edward," Ophelia said, her voice hardening. "She is a threat to us, to our future. We have to protect ourselves."

Edward remained silent, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the fireplace. He knew she was right. They had to silence Faye. They had to eliminate the threat.

"Alright," he said finally, his voice barely audible. "I will take care of it."

Ophelia smiled, a cold, calculating smile that sent a shiver down Edward’s spine. Sometimes he wondered how far she was willing to go, first it was her sister and now she wanted her mother gone. He wondered if one day he would also be on the chopping block.

"Good," she said, her voice smooth and seductive. "We’ll make sure that mother does not pose a threat."