Chapter 703
Despite Bryan’s deep-seated anger toward Brandon, confronting the painful reality of family strife was always a heavy burden. It was better for Bryan to believe that Brandon had died yesterday.
Brandon lay in agony, his face twisted in pain, unable to close his eyes. He stared at the ceiling, surrounded by the cold, mechanical beeping and humming of medical machines.
The door to the ICU swung open, and a figure in a sterile gown and mask stepped inside. He stood beside Brandon’s bed, his eyes cold.
As their eyes met, Brandon’s pupils widened in recognition. He struggled to move, but the pain held him down, leaving only a strained growl escaping his lips.
“Why so nervous?” The man leaned in and whispered into Brandon’s ear. “I’m not here to kill you. You used to be my father, after all. I just thought I’d come and see you off.”
Brandon glared at him, his teeth gritted in anger.
The man’s lips curled into a smirk as he continued, “Let me tell you something. The accident that made you infertile wasn’t a random event. My mother arranged it. She wanted you to suffer and separate from your wife so she could marry into your family and secure a new future for me.”
After the accident, Brandon felt compelled to show the world that he was unscathed, driven by an underlying insecurity. Though few had known about the incident, he couldn’t shake the need to prove himself.
Lydia, aware of this, had smoothly carried out her plan.
Frozen after learning the truth, Brandon fixed his gaze on Christos. Christos removed his mask and took Brandon’s ventilator off. “Speak up, Brandon. I’m all ears.”
Brandon stammered, “You… You!” His words hung in the air as he struggled to process what he was hearing.
He had once deeply loved Bryan’s mother and married her, but after the accident, he had hated her for years. Now, he realized that decades of animosity had been misdirected. Tragically, he had killed his wife—the woman he had once vowed to cherish.
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As regret washed over him, tears cascaded down his face, mingling with agonized cries that echoed the depth of his torment.
Christos patted Brandon’s chest, his voice soft but carrying an unsettling coldness. “Do you wish for death now? As long as you still breathe, the medical team will fight to save you. But I’m here to see you off,” he said. “You understand my meaning, yes? Is that what you desire?”
Brandon nodded vigorously, his eyes swirling with regret and torment, teetering on the edge of madness.
“Alright. Calm down. Let me help you,” Christos replied.
He reattached Brandon’s ventilator, only to disconnect it elsewhere.
“This may hurt. Endure it,” he cautioned, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Your wife lay in wait for your signature, enduring much pain. I can’t grant you a swift exit.”
Christos then detached another wire.