Chapter 226
226:
Mockery laced Christina’s laughter. “You call this a minor issue? Brendon, do you even hear yourself? Your whole family dragged my name through the dirt and turned the public against me—and you still think it’s minor?”
A bitter chuckle escaped her. “Well then, by that logic, your precious Yolanda being detained for a few extra days is minor too!” Her tone sharpened, each word cutting clean. “Here’s the bottom line, Brendon. Unless your sister admits what she did and apologizes to me in front of everyone, you can forget about using your connections. Yolanda isn’t going to be released.”
Brendon’s face twisted with fury at Christina’s icy retort. His voice dropped to a spiteful snarl. “Why do you always have to turn the smallest thing into a circus? If it weren’t for that bastard backing you, you’d have never kept me from bailing Yolanda out! Christina, don’t kid yourself—you survived on your adopted parents before we got married, and after that, you leaned on me. Without the Dawsons, you’d be nothing. I’m the one who handed you those settlements—do you really think you’d last a day as just another washed-up housewife?” He spat the next words, each one dripping with contempt, “Since our divorce, you’ve done nothing but spread your legs for any man who’ll have you!”
Christina listened, her heart mostly armored against his poison, though a flash of indignation sparked behind her cool gaze. “I’ve got nothing else to say to you. My answer hasn’t changed. Unless Katie steps up, confesses, and apologizes in front of everyone, you can forget about getting Yolanda out early. As for this so-called man backing me—so what if he exists? He’s in a league you’ll never touch. You’re not even fit to lick his boots. Sucks to be you, huh?”
Without waiting for a reply, she ended the call and blocked his number in one decisive motion.
Brendon stared at the screen in disbelief, his fury ratcheting up another notch as he realized she’d blocked him. He crushed his phone in his grip, jaw clenched, every muscle in his face rigid with rage. No way was the man backing Christina so untouchable that even he couldn’t twist a few arms to get someone out of jail.
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Brendon seethed, vowing that once he dug up a new connection—anyone powerful enough to free Yolanda—he’d change his number just so he could call Christina, gloat, and shove his victory in her face. But as the days dragged by, every favor he called in fell flat. No matter how many contacts he exhausted, it was like slamming into an invisible wall—an unseen force crushing every attempt before it could gain traction.
With each failure, his frustration with Christina twisted into something darker. How could she be this vindictive? How could she stand by and watch him flounder, humiliated and powerless? The humiliation ate at him, feeding a bitter resentment that refused to die.
Meanwhile, in the Dawson family, Finnegan’s glare cut straight through Brendon, his tone icy. “Tomorrow’s the Hubbard family’s reunion banquet, and Yolanda still isn’t out?”
Finnegan had started to question whether the Dawson name actually meant anything anymore. But with Brendon dangling that promised five percent stake, he forced himself to swallow his anger and kept his harsher thoughts to himself.
“She… She might not make it to the banquet.” Brendon’s words came out thick and heavy, shame burning in his cheeks. He couldn’t even smooth over a problem this basic in front of his girlfriend’s parents. How pathetic did that make him look? What was meant to take one quick call had ended in a humiliating dead end.
“You told us she’d be out before the banquet!” Sheila exclaimed, barely able to rein in her fury.
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