Chapter 40
40:
Christina spent the entire day in Bethel’s hospital room, keeping her company, talking with her, and watching over her as she rested. Not a single member of the Dawson family had shown their face.
Only after Bethel had finally fallen asleep did Christina quietly step out.
As she exited the inpatient building, she came face-to-face with the Dawson siblings. Her steps slowed, and her expression hardened into a mask of ice.
“Bethel’s asleep,” she said flatly, her voice cool and clipped. “If you want to visit, come back tomorrow.”
Katie immediately bristled, her tone sharp. “Since when do you get to decide when we see our own grandmother?”
Christina tilted her head, lips curling into a cold smile. “Your grandmother? You mean the one you didn’t bother to visit once all day? What a privilege it must be to carry that title without the burden of responsibility. Oh, should I praise you for showing up now that she’s asleep?”
Her words struck like a whip—precise and merciless. The Dawson family’s indifference toward Bethel had long been a source of quiet anger for Christina, and seeing their smug, self-entitled faces now only poured fuel on the fire.
Their callousness wasn’t just disappointing anymore—it was infuriating. The Dawson family had no true successor—no one with the grit or vision to carry the business forward. And yet, they showed not an ounce of concern for Bethel, the very woman who had poured her life into keeping everything from falling apart.
“What’s your problem? You think you can talk to us like that?” Katie, furious and humiliated, raised a hand to strike Christina, but Christina moved first—catching Katie’s wrist mid-air.
“You really don’t learn, do you?” Christina’s voice was low, dangerous. Her eyes bore into Katie’s with cutting clarity. “Tell me—if Bethel weren’t around, how long do you think the Dawson family would last?”
Christina’s words dropped like a hammer. Katie paled, trembling. The fire in her eyes flickered out, replaced by fear.
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Christina released Katie’s wrist with a sharp flick. “Leave—before I lose what little patience I have left.”
Katie’s eyes welled with tears as she instinctively retreated, seeking refuge beside Brendon.
“Our family matters are none of your concern,” Brendon said coldly. He seized Christina’s wrist in a punishing grip, a silent demand for submission.
But Christina didn’t flinch. She met his glare with a chilling smile, refusing to show the pain lancing through her wrist. Her heart, already calloused from years of indifference, only grew colder. Did the Dawson family truly believe their empire had flourished these past three years without her own quiet efforts behind the scenes or without Bethel’s sacrifice?
“Let go, Brendon,” Christina snapped.
“Not until you apologize to Katie,” he retorted, his grip tightening—cruel and deliberate.
“In your dreams. Why the hell would I apologize to her?”
Brendon’s fury simmered just beneath the surface. But as he stared into Christina’s reddened eyes—eyes that never shed tears in his presence, even when wounded—something shifted. Sympathy crept in, softening his anger. For a fleeting moment, he feared he might actually make her cry.
That hesitation was all Christina needed. She wrenched her wrist free and stepped back, her voice like frost. “I don’t care about your family’s affairs. But Bethel… she showed me kindness. That makes her my business.”
Christina stared Brendon down, chin lifted high, the light catching the curve of her neck—a picture of poised defiance.
Katie, emboldened by Brendon’s defense, snapped, “You say she’s your business—then where’s the surgeon you promised to bring? Still not here, right?”
“When Bethel’s strong enough, I will bring Dr. Emmett over,” Christina replied, her tone like stone. “Right now, what she needs most is peace.”
“Oh, please!” Katie scoffed, her voice laced with contempt. “You’re clearly stalling. Admit it—you can’t even get in touch with this so-called Dr. Emmett.” Her eyes narrowed with disdain. “Do you even realize who he is? You think someone like you could invite him? Please. Get real.”
Christina was done wasting her breath. With an icy stare, she brushed past Katie. “You’re in my way.”
But just as Christina moved forward, Brendon stepped in, blocking her path once again.
“Move,” Christina said flatly, her tone as sharp as a blade.
At this proximity, Brendon’s gaze involuntarily dropped to Christina’s neck. A faint blush colored her usually porcelain skin—soft, delicate, and unmistakably…
Suggestive. In a flash, an image invaded his mind—another man, far too close, his lips grazing that vulnerable spot.
A visceral surge of jealousy and fury twisted inside Brendon. His fists curled into tight knots at his sides. This shameless woman. A minute ago, he’d felt a strange flicker of sympathy. But now, with that single glimpse, it was gone—swallowed whole by suspicion and possessiveness.
“Who is he?” Brendon demanded, his voice low but burning with fury. “Who were you with?”
Christina laughed—an elegant, derisive sound that only stoked the fire in him.
“What the hell’s so funny?” he barked, his pride bruised.
“I’m laughing at you,” she said, eyes gleaming with scorn. “The way you act… it’s pathetic.” Her voice dipped into a mockingly sweet tone. “Brendon, in case it’s slipped your mind, you’re my ex-husband. You have no right to question me.”
“What of it!” he snapped. “And don’t forget—our divorce hasn’t been made public. Everyone still thinks you’re my wife. That means something.”
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