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Chapter 757:
Alicia stared at the bed. At the rumpled sheets. At the empty champagne glasses on the nightstand.
Her mother’s entire life. Her mother’s dignity. Her mother’s home.
All of it, destroyed.
Something inside her snapped.
She let out a wild, animal scream and lunged for the bed, seizing the crystal lamp from the nightstand and hurling it at Lexi with everything she had.
Lexi shrieked and ducked. The lamp exploded against the padded headboard and shattered into a thousand pieces, glass flying in every direction.
𝖱𝖾𝗮𝗱 wіtho𝘂t і𝘯𝘁𝖾𝗿𝗋𝘂𝘱𝗍𝘪𝗈ոs оn
“Get out of my mother’s house!” Alicia screamed.
Richard grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back so hard her neck cracked. Then he slapped her.
Hard. Harder than the night before.
Alicia’s head snapped to the side. Her lip split open, and blood poured into her mouth.
“This is my house!” Richard roared, shaking her like a rag doll. “Susan is going to rot in prison. She’s gone. I need a new life. And Lexi is going to give it to me p>
Lexi peered out from beneath the covers, a slow smile spreading across her lips. She stroked her flat stomach, her voice dropping to something soft and sweet, like poisoned honey.
“Oh, Richard, baby, your daughter is so frightening. What if she hurts our baby p>
The room went dead silent.
Alicia froze. She stared at Lexi’s stomach.
Baby?
Richard’s eyes lit up. A twisted, ecstatic look spread across his face. He had always wanted a son. Had always considered Alicia a disappointment, a waste.
Lexi’s lie struck him precisely where it mattered most—right in his ancient, pathetic longing for a male heir.
He turned back to Alicia, his eyes cold and flat. He pointed at the door.
“Get out,” he said.
Alicia stared at him, blood dripping from her chin. “What p>
“I said get out!” he roared. “You are no longer my daughter. You are no longer a Beasley. If I ever see you on this property again, I will have you arrested for trespassing. Now get out of my house p>
Alicia stared at him. At the man who was her father. The man who had just disowned her for a prostitute and a fabricated pregnancy.
A cold, dead feeling spread through her chest.
She had nothing left. No Cole. No family. No home. No money.
Nothing.
She turned and ran.
She ran down the stairs, out the front door, and into the pouring rain.
Behind her she could hear Richard laughing, and Lexi’s giggles, and the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut.
The Beasley family was dead. And it had died not with a bang, but with a stranger’s laughter in her mother’s bed.
Alicia stumbled out through the Beasley mansion gates and into the storm.
The rain came down in sheets, soaking her to the bone. Her Chanel coat, once the envy of every girl at the country club, clung to her like a wet rag. She stood on the empty Long Island road, staring back at the house that had been her home her entire life.
Lights blazed in the master bedroom window.