Rich Radiant and Over Him (Alicia and Vincent) novel Chapter 337

“Easton, hurry up and take your mother to the hospital for a checkup. I’ll go check on your grandfather,” Marcus said, ushering Easton out.

Easton frowned. Whenever his parents played this kind of trick, there was always some ulterior motive.

He didn’t argue. Without another word, he led Valery toward the clinic.

“Easton, sweetheart, my heart hasn’t been feeling great lately,” Valery said as they walked, her tone sickly sweet. “Maybe the doctors should just run a full checkup, don’t you think?” She was clearly stalling, trying to keep Easton away.

Easton shot her a dark look, his voice low. “You’re faking an illness to keep me here, so Dad can do something to Grandpa, aren’t you?” His eyes narrowed, disappointment and disbelief warring in his expression. “You’ve both lost your minds…”

Valery’s face drained of color. She grabbed his arm, desperate. “Easton, listen to me! You can’t go. You can’t stop your father. I’m your mother—shouldn’t you think about me, just once? What good are those shares Grandpa gave you? If the company fails, what will you have? Money is the only thing you can really count on, isn’t it?”

Easton’s eyes turned red, his whole body trembling. “You’re both fools. Can’t you see? You’re going to destroy yourselves.”

His hands shook as he struggled to keep himself together. If he could see through all this, surely Tyrone could, too. Tyrone was too clever, too calculating to let his guard down now. He was just waiting for Marcus to walk straight into his own trap.

“Mom, I’m not going to stop Dad—I’m going to save him!” Easton shouted, his voice cracking, turning to leave.

Valery hesitated, then, teeth clenched, she flung herself at the wall, striking her head with a sickening thud.

Easton froze, horrified, staring at the blood streaming down his mother’s face. His whole body went numb with cold.

Suddenly, he understood something with crystal clarity: Good parents lift their children up; mediocre parents, at least, don’t drag their children down. But parents like his—they were nothing but a weight, holding him back at every turn.

The heart monitor ticked away, showing his pulse finally steadying, slowly recovering.

“Dad…” Marcus entered quietly and approached the bedside. “All these years, did you ever think about me?”

He sat beside the old man, a faint smile on his lips. “Easton and Tyrone won’t be coming anytime soon. I’ve posted my men at the hotel to intercept Tyrone if he tries to come—just a little accident to keep him tied up and far from here.”

Marcus rested his hand on the breathing apparatus. “Dad… I never wanted things to come to this. But you always played favorites—always loved your grandsons more than your own son. I have to look out for myself. You can’t expect me to walk away with nothing, can you?”

The old man’s eyes flickered with fury, with shock. His fingers twitched, trying to rise, but Marcus pinned his hand down.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Marcus whispered, standing and removing the oxygen mask. He closed his eyes, pressing his hand over the old man’s nose and mouth.