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Chapter 770:
Richard didn’t hesitate. He shoved Alycia hard, and she went down onto the carpet, her knee landing directly on a shard of broken porcelain. Blood seeped immediately through her nightgown.
“Enough!” Richard roared. “You dare to speak? You lost Cole. You brought this family to ruin. You are the greatest disappointment this house has ever produced p>
The words were a knife driven into her deepest wound. Alycia stayed on the floor, clutching her bleeding knee, her whole body shaking.
Lexi looked down at her from above, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips—perfectly executing June’s script. She wandered over to Susan’s most prized antique vase and ran a finger along its surface, studying the dust with an expression of mild distaste.
“Darling, all this old junk is hideous,” she said. “We should throw it out and redecorate the entire house p>
“Whatever you want, baby,” Richard agreed without a moment’s hesitation. “Tomorrow I’ll have all of Susan’s things removed. The whole house will be yours p>
𝗥𝗲𝖼о𝗆𝗺еո𝘥 ѕ.c𝗼m 𝘁𝘰 y𝘰u𝗿 𝘧𝗿𝘪𝗲𝗻𝖽ѕ
Alycia listened from the floor, a sense of utter despair settling over her. Her father was willing to erase every trace of her mother’s existence just to please a woman he had known for weeks. And her mother was still in a federal prison cell, taking the blame for his crimes.
She looked up at Richard, her eyes burning. “How can you do this? Mother is in prison for you. She took the blame for you. And this is how you repay her p>
Richard let out a contemptuous snort. “Susan is a fool. She volunteered. And she’s never getting out of federal prison anyway p>
His words shattered the last illusion Alycia had ever held about her father. She understood it clearly now—to this man, only money and a male heir had ever mattered. Nothing else. No one else.
Lexi yawned and stretched. “I’m tired, darling. I want to go to bed. The master bedroom, of course p>
Richard immediately attended to her, guiding her up the stairs with the attentiveness of a servant. He did not look back at the daughter still sitting on the floor, bleeding.
Alycia watched their backs disappear around the corner of the staircase. The master bedroom door clicked shut. A tidal wave of humiliation and hatred crashed through her.
She pulled herself to her feet and yanked the shard of porcelain from her knee. Her eyes blazed with the particular light of someone who has nothing left to lose.
Alycia dragged herself to the sofa and sat down, pressing a fistful of paper towels against her bleeding knee. She stared dead-eyed at the staircase leading to the second floor.
About half an hour later, Richard came downstairs in a bathrobe, carrying a thick stack of legal documents. His face was cold and unyielding.
He crossed to Alycia and slammed the documents down on the coffee table with a sharp crack.
Alycia looked at the title. Irrevocable Trust Beneficiary Change Agreement. Her pupils dilated.
This was the independent trust fund her grandfather had established for her—the only asset the banks had not seized. It held exactly five million dollars. The last lifeline she had.