Chapter 264

Margaret Winslow's sharp eyes caught the unspoken thoughts flickering across Liam Blackwood's face. Without warning, she erupted into harsh laughter that echoed through the sterile hospital room. "That burning curiosity of yours - it's always been your downfall. Even as a child, you had that insufferable need to understand everything. Your intelligence makes everyone else seem dull by comparison. Your very presence chills me to the bone. When Richard speaks to me, there's warmth, affection. But you? Always so clinical, so detached."

Liam's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "That's truly why?" His voice held a note of disbelief.

Margaret's laughter turned bitter, her lips twisting into a sneer. "There were days I wished I'd never given birth to you."

A humorless chuckle escaped Liam's lips, mingling with his mother's cruel amusement. So this was the root of her disdain.

Unlike his silver-tongued brother Richard who showered their mother with empty flattery, Liam had always believed actions spoke louder than words.

He could recite Margaret's preferences by heart - the exact shade of her favorite tea, the obscure French perfume she adored. Countless times he'd gone to extraordinary lengths to procure her desires, only for Richard to present them as his own gifts.

The stolen credit had never bothered Liam. Filial duty wasn't about recognition. Yet he'd never imagined that in Margaret's eyes, his quiet devotion translated as cold indifference. All his efforts, dismissed with a wave of her manicured hand.

Perhaps the bitter edge in Liam's silence struck a nerve. Margaret's face flushed with renewed anger, her fingers twitching as if itching to strike him.

The knocking at the door escalated into frantic pounding. Richard's muffled shouts penetrated the ward. "Liam! What the hell are you doing in there? Open this door immediately! What have you done to Mother?"

At the sound of her favorite son's voice, Margaret's expression brightened like a parched plant finding water. She opened her mouth to scream for help.

But Liam's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "You honestly believe aligning with Richard will secure your future? Open your eyes, Mother. You're nothing but a pawn to him - disposable the moment you cease to be useful."

"Don't be absurd!" Margaret spat, her hospital gown rustling with her agitation. "Richard cares for me deeply. Unlike you - cold, unfeeling. No wonder you'll die alone."

Liam remained eerily calm, his gaze drifting to the IV bag hanging above Margaret's bed.

Seeing his distant expression, panic flashed in Margaret's eyes. "What are you planning? I'm your mother! You wouldn't dare harm me! They'll lock you away forever if you lay a finger on me!"

This time, Liam's laughter held genuine amusement. "It's not me you should fear, Mother. It's Richard. If you value your life, tell him you've decided to recuperate at my estate."

Drawing a steadying breath, Liam's voice turned solemn. "Mother, I accept we'll never see eye to eye on many things. But blood binds us, and that cannot be undone. Let me be clear - choose my protection, abandon your schemes, and I'll ensure you live comfortably. But the lavish lifestyle you enjoyed? That's gone forever."

His eyes hardened. "You will also return everything you stole from Olivia. Every last cent belongs to her. You know how I operate - this will happen whether you cooperate or not."

"The choice is yours. Side with Richard, and you'll face the consequences of that decision alone. Don't come crawling to me when it all collapses."

Margaret hesitated, her mind racing. But Richard's increasingly frantic shouts outside the door seemed to steel her resolve.