Chapter 285

Lorraine's wails grew louder after her husband's sharp reprimand.

She finally lifted her tear-streaked face to glare at Frederick. "You blame me for spoiling our son? What about you? All you care about is making money. Half the nights you're not even home, always jetting off on business trips. Do you even know your own son's temperament? Do you think I can discipline him alone?"

"I have to provide for this family!" Frederick snapped back. "You don't work. How else do you expect us to survive?"

Years of sacrifice for his family, only to be accused of neglect. The injustice burned in his chest.

Their heated argument finally roused Maxwell from unconsciousness.

The throbbing in his skull intensified at the sight of his parents nearly coming to blows. "Enough!" he groaned. "Can't you let me rest in peace?"

Since childhood, his parents' explosive fights had been the soundtrack of his life - shattering vases, flying furniture, threats to demolish their home. Age hadn't mellowed them; if anything, their battles had grown more vicious.

No wonder Maxwell preferred the company of street thugs to his own home. What child wanted to witness such toxicity daily?

"Maxwell, my poor boy!" Lorraine dabbed at fresh tears. "Look at you - just out of prison and already battered. How many times must I tell you to stay out of trouble? Do you enjoy breaking your mother's heart?"

Frederick studied his injured son with grim resignation. For one dark moment, he wished the boy had died - one less scourge on society. He immediately shook off the horrific thought. Blood was blood, after all.

Maxwell rolled his eyes at his mother's theatrics. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be good. Stop crying already." His jaw clenched as he recalled Dominic's brutal beating. This humiliation wouldn't go unanswered.

In his entire life, no one had dared treat him this way - not in prison, not on the streets. He'd always been the predator, never the prey.

"Tell me who did this," Lorraine demanded with unusual steel in her voice. "I'll make sure they pay."

Maxwell had intended to keep quiet, but inspiration struck. "Who else? Your precious nephew, Dominic Blackwood. That bastard's been eyeing Evelyn like she's his property. My own wife! He barged in while we were intimate - a married couple's rightful privacy - beat me senseless, then kidnapped her. Since when do cousins behave like this?"

Frederick scoffed. "Dominic? Impossible. He's reserved but principled. There must be some mistake." He refused to believe his nephew would act so recklessly.

Maxwell's lips twisted in a sneer. "Tell me, Father - who's your real son? Me or Dominic? Look at my injuries! Do I look like I'm lying? Even you've noticed something between Evelyn and him. We're still married, and she's already cuckolding me! Shouldn't Aunt Beatrice control her son? Or do you want your future grandchild bearing the Blackwood name?"

Lorraine's tear-reddened eyes flashed with vindication. "See, Frederick? Like mother, like son. Your sister's a gold-digging harlot, and her precious boy's no better - stealing his cousin's wife when he could have any woman! All you Lockwoods are cut from the same rotten cloth. What cursed fate made me marry into this family!"

Despite her contempt for Beatrice, Lorraine secretly envied her sister-in-law's position - matriarch of the powerful Blackwoods, mother to an exceptional son, grandmother to perfect twins. Now she'd found Beatrice's Achilles' heel - her son's scandalous obsession with a married woman.

Frederick's face darkened at their poisonous words, especially the mention of promiscuous Evelyn. "That wanton woman isn't worth this trouble. Divorce her!"

Maxwell's eyes turned flinty. "She's mine. I don't care what she's done. Help me keep her, or you'll never hold a grandchild."

"You ungrateful wretch!" Frederick grabbed a pillow, poised to strike, but the sight of his son's injuries stayed his hand. "I'm calling Beatrice. She'll deal with her son."

Across town, Dominic stubbed out his cigarette as his office phone rang.

"Blackwood."

"Long time, Mr. Blackwood." The androgynous voice dripped with amusement. "I'm touched you remember old friends."

Dominic gazed through his floor-to-ceiling windows at the glittering city below. "I need a favor, Mallory. One of my woman's friends is tangled up with your brother. Dinner's on me next time."

A pause. "Your woman? Since when do you have one?"

Dominic's lips curved. "A feisty little kitten. I'll introduce her once she's properly trained."

Another pause, then laughter. "Consider it done. I'll call Preston."

As the line went dead, Dominic's smile faded. His rebellious kitten needed disciplining. The question was - how?