Chapter 864:
His harsh tone made Alexa fall silent at once. “Fine. I’ll go back and wait. Take care of yourself, and let me know if anything comes up,” she muttered before reluctantly leaving the hospital room.
Left alone in his bed, Moss stared down at his arms, both encased in plaster. Frustration gnawed at him. He was stuck here, powerless, with no choice but to rely on others. He prayed silently for Balfour’s safety, but dread churned deep inside him.
When Christina’s name flashed across his mind, his jaw clenched with fury. If she had anything to do with Balfour’s disappearance, he would take matters into his own hands. For his son, he’d make her pay dearly.
But he was utterly unaware of how gruesome Balfour’s end had been. Had he known, he wouldn’t have dared to even speak of revenge—he’d have tucked his tail and stayed a coward.
Three days later, Christina returned to Dorfield. She brought along a bag of health supplements to visit Bethel. From afar, she noticed Yolanda lingering outside the Dawson mansion.
Even though Yolanda was engaged to Brendon, Bethel refused to acknowledge her and barred her from stepping inside the house.
Christina’s face remained unreadable as she walked toward the gate with the supplements in hand.
But just as she reached the entrance, Brendon and Katie stepped out—and the moment they spotted her, they immediately blocked her path, refusing to let her in.
Christina swept her eyes over Katie and Brendon with a glacial glare, her voice sharp as frost. “Move. Out of my way.”
Katie blinked, clearly intimidated by Christina’s frosty glance, but didn’t budge. She slowly withdrew her hand, still standing stubbornly in Christina’s path.
“My grandma wants you to sell the painting to me,” Brendon lied without a flicker of qualm, not even a twitch to betray him.
𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕠𝕟 𝓰𝖺𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀․𝗰𝗈𝗆
Christina let out a scoff, amused by the audacity. “Oh? Is that so? Then I suppose I’d better go in and ask Bethel myself.”
Christina wasn’t buying it. From what she knew of Bethel, there was no way Bethel would make such a ridiculous request.
“She’s not feeling well. She doesn’t want to see anyone right now.” Brendon stuck to his lies, his expression unreadable, his breath calm as if he were telling the truth.
Then, as if his lies weren’t thick enough already, he turned his gaze on Christina with syrupy affection, his voice smooth as velvet. “Please sell the painting to me. I’ll give you an extra hundred million.”
Christina wasn’t naive enough to be swayed by that saccharine act. She hadn’t bought the painting for profit—it was for William. Not even someone with more clout than Brendon could’ve changed her mind.
“Bethel is sick? Then I’ll call her,” Christina said lightly, pulling out her phone and making a mock attempt to place a call.
Panicking at the idea of their lie unraveling, Katie lunged to snatch the phone. Christina slapped her hand away with a firm, unflinching strike.
.
.
.