?Chapter 957:


    He simply couldn’t ept it. Ynda’s words had dissolved into incoherent fragments at the sight of him coughing up blood. How could Christina, once so submissive in front of him, now be entirely indifferent?


    Christina smiled right into his eyes, reading the swirling resentment, disbelief, and doubt clouding his gaze. She had no intention of uncovering why he was staring at her with such intricate emotions. She would rather feign ignorance through deliberate questioning—why was her ex-husband coughing up blood?


    Brendon kept his eyes on Christina for a long, heavy moment, but when she gave no sign of concern, a re of uncontroble anger lit within him. He withdrew his gaze—a tangled knot of resentment and destion—only to let it settle weakly upon Margot.


    “Mrs. Scott, I sincerely apologize. Please ept my deepest regrets. I swear I had no idea it was a counterfeit—I truly hope you can forgive me,” he said, his voice low but steady.


    Margot waved the matter aside with little interest. “Now that the truth is out, there’s no need to dwell on it. But in the future, make sure to verify the authenticity of your gifts—lest you embarrass yourselves again.”


    At her words, the surrounding guests exchanged knowing nces, faint smiles curling their lips. The Dawson family had, without question, be theughingstock of the elite circle.


    “Yes, we understand. We’ll remember this—and thank you, Mrs. Scott, for your great generosity,” Brendon said.


    “Perhaps you should go to the hospital first. You need medical attention,” Margot suggested.


    But Brendon didn’t want to leave just yet. If he left now, the banquet would be over by the time he returned. He had failed to make any new connections, closed no business deals, and had been swindled out of five hundred million for a fake painting—how could he possibly leave empty-handed now?


    ???????????? ???????????????? ?????? ????????: g???????ν????????????


    “My deepest thanks for your concern, Mrs. Scott. I assure you, it’s nothing serious. I will just…” He tried to keep himself upright, but before thest word had fully left his mouth, his strength gave way, and he copsed.


    Before Brendon slipped into unconsciousness, his gaze clung stubbornly to Christina. He longed—almost desperately—to catch the slightest flicker of emotion in her face.


    Yet, Christina stood unmoving, a silent spectator to his copse, her cold eyes fixed upon him from the sidelines. Her expression held no warmth, only a detached indifference.


    Her apathy sent a chill down his spine. Yet, what he never stopped to consider was that, before, he himself had been even colder, more ruthless, than Christina. He possessed no right to condemn her for her icy demeanor now.


    “Brother!”


    “Brendon!”<fn5780> For original chapters go to find?novel</fn5780>


    .


    .


    .