Chapter 209
Brandon Lowell lay emaciated on the hospital bed, his cheekbones protruding sharply, his eyes sunken deep into their sockets.
He glared at the food container Margaret Hill offered him, then suddenly lashed out in fury, knocking it away. "Who wants your leftovers?"
The container hit the floor with a dull thud.
Brandon's eyes darkened, his voice hoarse. "You're mocking me now that I'm useless, aren't you?"
Margaret frantically knelt to gather the scattered food. "Brandon, I made this specially for you—"
The grilled meat inside still steamed faintly.
Brandon's gaze fixed on the golden-brown slice, his Adam's apple bobbing. Yet he sneered. "Father's still in a coma, and you have time to feast?"
Margaret paled, her fingers twisting the hem of her blouse.
"Feed me," Brandon suddenly commanded.
Relieved, Margaret quickly picked up the meat and brought it to his lips.
Sophia Lowell stood by the window, watching coldly.
Since his hospitalization, Brandon had grown increasingly volatile. Margaret's indulgence had reached appalling levels.
In the neighboring bed, Vincent Lowell remained on life support. The medical bills piled up like snowflakes.
Sophia stared at her father's pallid face, a shadow flickering in her eyes.
The doctors had said Vincent's chances of waking were slim.
That meant a lifetime of carrying this burden.
She refused.
Why should she sacrifice her life for a father who had never raised her?
In this family, she had always been disposable.
If not for the accident, Lowell Group would never have fallen into her hands.
"Why isn't this spicy?"
Brandon's roar shattered her thoughts.
His face twisted as he glared at Margaret. "Are you doing this on purpose?"
Margaret stammered an apology. "I'll add some right away—"
"Enough!" Sophia finally snapped.
Brandon whipped his head toward her, venom flashing in his eyes. "Since when does the worthless spare dare interfere?"
The insult cut like a knife.
She remembered when Brandon had once sweetly called her "sister."
Now, only naked hatred remained.