Chapter 89
89:
Christina studied Bethel quietly for a moment, her gaze gentle but unreadable.
Noticing Christina’s silence, Bethel said, “It’s alright. If you’d rather not take on the helm of the Dawson Group, I won’t push it. I understand. I only decided to give those shares to you to provide you with a sense of security—something to fall back on in the future.”
Bethel offered a faint smile, the corners of her lips tugging up with resignation. “Even if I handed the shares off to that bunch of incompetent people in the Dawson family, the Dawson Group would crumble anyway. Might as well give the shares to you.”
Christina’s smile was soft but steady. “Let’s not talk about this now, Bethel. You’re going to be fine. I’m sure of it.”
Christina couldn’t bear the thought of losing Bethel just yet. Bethel had always treated her like family. The warmth, the fierce protection, the love—it had meant the world to her.
“Alright. We’ll save it for another time,” Bethel said with a light chuckle. She had already put her affairs in order. The will was written. Now, she simply lived each day with quiet acceptance, ready for whatever came next.
“When I’m discharged,” Bethel added, her voice calm, “I’ll transfer my family’s estate to your name.”
Before Christina could get a word in, the door to the hospital room flew open, crashing against the wall with a bang. A furious voice echoed through the room: “Absolutely not! That estate is not going to her!” Christina didn’t need to turn around. That grating, self-righteous tone was unmistakable—Brendon, her ex-husband.
“This is my decision,” Bethel said icily, her voice cutting through the tension like glass. “And no one gets to overrule it.”
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Brendon stepped forward, ready to argue, but before he could get a word out, Yolanda clutched his wrist, reining him in. With syrupy sweetness, she said to Bethel, “Mrs. Dawson, are you feeling any better? I brought some health supplements for you—all the way from overseas.” She stepped forward with an elegant box and carefully placed it on the bedside table, her expression a mask of gentle concern.
Bethel’s face hardened instantly. Her years of authority resurfaced in an instant, transforming her into the formidable matriarch she had always been. Her glare swept over Yolanda and the others like a blade.
“Who gave you the gall to bring this vile thing into my hospital room?” Bethel’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension.
Yolanda flinched, her eyes welling up with tears at the public humiliation. She blinked rapidly, her voice trembling as she said, “Mrs. Dawson, I know you’ve never liked me, but must you be so harsh? If my presence offends you this much, I’ll go.”
She deliberately brushed past Brendon as she made a move to leave. Predictably, he caught her by the arm.
“Yolanda, don’t go.” Even with the pain radiating from his still bandaged head, his focus was solely on her.
“Let me go, Brendon,” Yolanda whispered, her voice trembling, her eyes shimmering with tears, her acting skills shining through.
“No.” Seeing her look so fragile—so unjustly treated—sent a pang through Brendon’s chest. With aching tenderness, he reached out to wipe away her tears.
“Brendon…” Yolanda’s voice trembled as she looked up at him, her eyes glistening with gratitude and false vulnerability.
But the scene was shattered by Bethel’s roar. “Enough! Get out of my sight. Now!”
Yolanda froze, her hands curling into tight fists at her sides. How dare this old hag humiliate her like this?
Brendon’s frustration erupted. He turned toward Bethel, face flushed, his voice rising. “Why are you always so unfair to Yolanda?” Then, with a sharp turn, his glare fell on Christina. “Is it because she’s been poisoning your mind? Whispering lies to turn you against Yolanda?”
Bethel’s fury boiled over. With a resounding slam, her palm struck the bedside table. “Watch your mouth, Brendon!” she snapped. “Not everyone is as twisted as you. Christina has never said a word against you guys. Never!”
“Oh really? Then explain your unwarranted hatred toward Yolanda!” he barked. “Why did you decide to give Christina the family estate when she’s done nothing to deserve it?”
To Brendon, it had always been painfully clear—Bethel favored Christina. That favoritism had festered in him like a wound, one that never healed.
Katie stormed forward, her eyes locked on Christina with pure venom. “You manipulative slut!” she screamed. “What the hell did you do to my grandma? Slip her something? Cast a damn spell?”
“Who are you calling a slut?” Bethel’s gaze snapped to Katie—cold, razor-sharp, lethal. Her voice was low now, controlled and cutting. The calm before the strike.
Katie faltered. That unblinking stare—it chilled her to the bone. Without thinking, she took two steps back, her bravado draining away like blood from her face.
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