Chapter 68
68:
Christina’s lips curled into a cold smile as her eyes briefly flicked from Sheila to Yolanda, who clung to Brendon like a delicate porcelain doll. A slow, mocking smile tugged at Christina’s lips. “How generous of you,” she said smoothly to Sheila. “Though I must admit, your daughter’s far better at playing the damsel in distress than I ever could be.”
Sheila’s expression darkened, her fury boiling over as she lifted her hand to slap Christina. But Christina caught her wrist midair without flinching.
Katie immediately surged forward to help Sheila, only for Christina to twist Sheila’s arm and shove Sheila straight into Katie’s path. A loud thud followed.
“Ahh!”
“Ouch—watch it!”
The two crashed to the ground, limbs tangled, with Sheila landing hard on top of Katie.
“Mom!”
“Katie!”
Yolanda and Joselyn hurried to help Katie and Sheila, panic and worry etched across their faces as they struggled to lift Katie and Sheila off the ground.
Brendon stepped toward Christina, anger flickering in his eyes. “Why do you always have to escalate things? Can’t you just let it go for once?”
Christina folded her arms, her gaze cool and unbothered. “Maybe if you paid more attention, you’d see who really started it.”
“Must you always use that annoying tone to talk to me?” he snapped.
She offered a slow, biting smile. “Of course. How else am I going to slice through the nonsense around here?”
He stared at her, trying to rein in the frustration burning in his chest. “Does it always have to be war between us?” he asked finally. “We could, I don’t know, at least be civil for once.”
Christina tilted her head, her voice calm but cutting. “Sure. Just keep your entourage in check. I don’t start fights—I finish them.”
“You started this mess!” Katie shouted, brushing herself off.
Brendon took a step closer, his voice low and firm. “Don’t test me, Christina. I’m trying to be reasonable, but you keep pushing it.”
“Oh? Is that all you have to say?”
“There’s nothing else? Then leave. Stop wasting my time,” Christina said, turning slightly away.
Brendon’s jaw tightened as anger boiled beneath the surface. He had never found her so infuriating. “You really want to go down this road?” he said quietly. “Because if you do, I won’t hesitate to tell the Jones family about the kind of company you’ve been keeping.”
Christina’s smile vanished. Her eyes darkened as she whipped around. “Do it,” she said, her voice low and calm. “Tell them. But don’t think for a second that I’m scared of your threats.”
Brendon stared at her for a long moment before replying, his voice cold and calculated. “You might not care about your own reputation, but dragging your family into this? Think very carefully, Christina. Some stains never wash off.”
“Stay out of my business, Brendon!” Christina snapped, reaching out to shove him out of her way.
But to her shock, before she could make any contact, Brendon stumbled backward—his balance faltering—before his eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground.
His head struck the floor with a sickening thud. The impact tore through the bandage on the back of his skull, and blood began to soak through, vivid and alarming.
Brendon didn’t even flinch. He was already unconscious before the pain could catch up to him.
“Brendon!” Joselyn cried out in panic, rushing to his side. Her face turned pale at the sight of the spreading red stain. “Oh my God—he’s bleeding! He’s bleeding!”
Katie shrieked, her voice rising in alarm. “Someone call an ambulance! Now!”
“I—I’m calling!” Yolanda fumbled with her phone, her fingers trembling. Her eyes brimmed with fear. With her father in custody and her family’s company teetering on collapse, Brendon had become her last thread of hope.
Sheila pointed a shaking finger at Christina, her voice quivering with fury. “You monster! Look at him! This is your doing!”
Christina crossed her arms, unbothered. “Are you serious right now? I didn’t even touch him. He fell on his own.”
“Don’t try to weasel out of this!” Sheila barked. “This is your fault. You’re paying for this—you won’t leave until you do!”
Sheila stormed toward Christina, hand outstretched to grab her. But before she could get close, the deep growl of an engine cut through the chaos. A sleek black business car rolled up beside them.
The doors opened, and three tall men in black suits stepped out. They were broad-shouldered, stone-faced, and radiated quiet menace. Their sharp eyes swept the scene, making it instantly clear—they weren’t just any men. They were professional bodyguards.
Sheila froze, her outstretched hand retreating instinctively.
Katie and Yolanda exchanged uneasy glances. Who were these men? Were they here for Christina?
The three men approached Christina, stopped in front of her, and bowed in perfect unison. “Miss Jones,” they said in low, respectful tones.
Katie, Yolanda, and Sheila felt their stomachs twist as the realization sank in. These men were Christina’s people.
One of the bodyguards stepped forward, his voice calm and assertive. “We’ve come to escort you home, Miss Jones.”
Christina gave a small nod. “Alright. Let’s go.”
But before leaving, she turned back to the trio with a smirk dancing on her lips. She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers in a mocking wave. “Try not to miss me too much,” she said, her tone light but dripping with sarcasm.
Katie, Yolanda, and Sheila seethed in silence, their eyes locked on Christina’s retreating figure. But none of them dared to move. None of them had the courage to speak up—especially not with those intimidating men around. Each of those bodyguards looked strong enough to knock someone out with a single blow.
Christina stepped into the sleek black car, and within moments, it pulled away, vanishing down the street.
Leaning back in the seat, Christina closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, a satisfied smile on her lips. Yolanda might be good at playing the victim, but she could play that game too—better, even. After all, life was nothing but a stage. And she had learned how to play her part perfectly.
At Bayview Estates, Christina stood in front of the three bodyguards who had brought her home and a line of ten uniformed servants. “Thank you for your service,” she said warmly. “And please extend my deepest gratitude to Mr. Scott for arranging this on such short notice. I’ll be sure to thank him in person when time permits. You may all leave now.”
Without hesitation, the entire line of personnel bowed in perfect unison.
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