CHAPTER 33: THREATEN HIS DAUGHTER

"What are you doing here?" His voice was cold as ice as he asked, "Who allowed you in here?"

Without a word, I stood up, demanding instead. "How did she end up here? I got calls from you and Cassie. What happened?"

Without warning, my father grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the door. "We need to talk outside."

I pulled my hand away from him forcefully once we were in the hallway. "Don’t you dare treat me like that anymore."

Charles took one look at my burgundy gala dress and the remnants of my evening makeup, then scoffed. "Look at you. Having the time of your life while your mother was fighting for hers."

"That’s not true," I protested. "I was on a business trip with Axel, and I came back the minute the hospital called me."

"Save your worries," he snapped. "I wasn’t calling you to come rushing back here."

"Then why were you calling?"

"So you could see the damage you caused."

His words hit me like a slap. "How is this my fault?"

"Don’t play dumb with me, Layla," Charles’ voice was beginning to rise. "What did you expect after disrupting our family over and over again? After getting your pregnant sister arrested?"

I shook my head, feeling a mix of anger, disappointment, and plain disgust. "Why aren’t you putting the blame on the person who’s really responsible? You."

"Excuse me?"

"You spoiled Cassandra," I continued, my voice gaining strength. "You allowed that wedding charade to happen. You made her into the person she became. And yet when your darling daughter causes problems, you defend her and blame everyone else."

Charles’s face was turning red with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that?"

"Are you really blind to the truth, or are you just stupid?" I asked, my patience finally snapping.

He raised his hand in anger, and I immediately stepped back.

"If you dare lay a hand on me," I said clearly, "I’ll make sure you get to smell the same cell Cassandra did. And this time, I’ll fight the case so you can’t just get bail immediately."

Charles looked at me like he barely recognised the woman standing before him. Then he looked back toward my mother’s room.

"You’re no longer part of this family," he said finally. "You have no business being here. Only when you’re ready to apologise for your sins can you come back."

"I have every right to see my mother," I shot back.

"Not while I’m here, you don’t."

"She’s my mother too, you know? You can’t keep me away from her."

"Watch me," he said smugly. "I’m her husband. I make the decisions about her care."

"That’s not how hospitals work, and you know it."

A nurse walking by paused and looked at us. "Excuse me, but you need to keep your voices down. This is a hospital."

"Sorry," I said quickly, then turned back to my father. "We’re not done with this conversation."

"Yes, we are," he replied. "You can leave now."

I felt frustrated knowing this argument wasn’t going anywhere productive, but I wasn’t about to give up completely.

"Fine," I said. "I’ll leave for now, but I’m coming back to see her. You can’t keep me away forever."

As I turned to go, something made me pause. A thought that had been nagging at me finally crystallised.

"You know what?" I said, turning back to face him. "My mother was dealing with enough stress to cause something this serious? And knowing what you’re capable of..."

I studied his face carefully. "If I find out you were in any way responsible for her condition, there’ll be hell to pay."

I’d only said it on a whim, not really believing it was possible. But the way he fidgeted the minute the words left my mouth made me feel uneasy. Like it was actually possible that he’d done something to push her over the edge.

"What nonsense are you spewing now?" Charles asked, but his voice sounded less steady than before.

I stepped closer to him and lowered my voice. "I know the truth about all your shady dealings, Charles."

His eyes darted around the hallway, checking to make sure no one was passing by or eavesdropping on our conversation.

"You’ve gone mad," he whispered harshly. "Is this how your mother raised you? To disrespect me like this?"

I shook my head briefly without directly responding to his question. My mind was racing with possibilities I’d never seriously considered before.

"I’m onto you," I said quietly but firmly. "I know the truth, and very soon, the whole world will know too."

Charles’s face went pale, and I could see a flash of something that looked like genuine fear in his eyes.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Don’t I?" I pressed. "All those late-night phone calls you thought nobody heard? All those mysterious business meetings? All that money that somehow appeared and disappeared from accounts?"

"You’re fishing," he said, but I could see sweat beading on his forehead despite the hospital’s air conditioning.

"Am I?" I asked. "We both know I’m not."

Charles stepped closer, trying to intimidate me with his height, but I held my ground.

"Even if you think you know something," he said in a low, threatening tone, "proving it is another matter entirely."

"Is it?" I challenged. "Because I’m pretty sure the right authorities would be very interested in what I have to say."

"You have nothing," he said, but his voice was shaking slightly.

"Keep telling yourself that," I replied. "But we both know the truth."

As I turned to leave, Charles grabbed my arm. Not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough to make me stop.

"You’re biting off more than you can chew here, Layla," he said quietly. "I’d watch my back if I were you."

The threat was clear, but instead of frightening me, it only confirmed my suspicions. My father was involved in something serious enough that he was willing to threaten his own daughter to keep it quiet.

"Is that a threat?" I asked, pulling my arm free from his grip.