Chapter 259
259 Shattered Authority
Martha’s face grew uglier by the second.
Oliver gave a mirthless laugh. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ƒindNoᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access s of novels early and in the highest quality.
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Finished
“But I think it’s better this way. At least here, Scarlett is living more comfortably than she ever did in the Joyner family.”
His words hit Martha like a hammer to the head.
She had never imagined Oliver–aloof, obedient Oliver–would ever speak to her like this.
Each word was a blade, stripping away the mask of a kind mother she had worn for years, exposing the selfishness and twisted core beneath.
“You… how can you say that to me?” Her voice shook, carrying disbelief and hurt. “I’m your mother!”
“And because you’re my mother, I want to ask you-” Oliver’s gaze met hers, sharp with cruel honesty.
“You treated Scarlett like a tool, Rebecca like a tool, even me and everyone else as props for your pride. Now Rebecca refuses to be your tool, and you act like the sky is falling?”
“I did not!” Martha shook her head violently, desperate to fling away his words. “I did everything for you all! I’m your mother–would I ever hurt you?”
“For our good, you drove Scarlett away? For our good, you pushed Rebecca until she raised a hand against you?”
Oliver’s voice wasn’t loud, but every word struck clear and hard.
“Mom, have you ever thought about why Rebecca ended up in lockup? Do you really believe it was just an accident? If not for your constant schemes, your shortcuts, would she have learned to become that way?”
“I…” Martha was stunned.
How could such things be blamed on her?
Why should she bear it?
But the angrier she grew, the more memories surged back–details she had long buried.
The whispers, the comparisons, the endless pressure. Rebecca had been held up against Scarlett again and again, jealousy festering like poison.
“And now Dad protects her, and you feel wronged?”
Oliver looked at her pallid face, his fone softening, though weariness weighed heavy in it.
“Mom, Rebecca suffered out there for more than ten years. Dad has always felt guilty. Why would you clash with her now of all times? Aren’t you just making yourself the target?”
“I… I only wanted her to listen to me…” Martha’s voice faltered, her fury gone, leaving only confusion and grievance. “I’m her mother. She should listen to me…”
“Times have changed, Mom.” Oliver sighed. “Giving birth to someone doesn’t mean they must live the way
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259 Shattered Authority
you want. Scarlett wasn’t. Rebecca isn’t. None of us are.”
Finished
He paused, looking out into the bleak, rainy night. “Dad called me earlier. He said Rebecca’s emotions are unstable, and he asked me… to keep an eye on you. Not to let you provoke her again.”
Martha’s head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. “He… he asked you to watch me ? ”
So in Franklin’s eyes, she was the troublemaker, the one needing supervision.
Oliver didn’t answer. He pulled out his wallet instead, sliding out a few bills and holding them out.
“It’s late. Take a cab home. Don’t come to the Lanc estate again. Scarlett doesn’t want to see you. And I work here–I don’t want trouble either.”
Martha recoiled as if burned.
Those thin slips of paper stung worse than a slap, a humiliating dismissal from the son who once obeyed her every word.
“You think I’m disgraceful too, don’t you?” Her voice cracked, low and hoarse.
Oliver stood in silence for a long moment, then turned his eyes away.
“Go home, Mom. Talk it out with Dad and Rebecca. But stop forcing Y
He nodded to the butler. “Close the gate.”
The iron doors swung shut, snuffing out the last of the light.
Oliver’s figure vanished behind them, without so much as a glance back.
way on them.”
Martha stood alone, clutching the bills as the night wind rattled them in her hand.
The rain had stopped, but the damp chill seeped into her bones.
The villas glowed warm and bright in the distance, but not a single lamp was lit for her.
She had thought herself the master of everything–husband, children, all her carefully molded “tools.”
But now her husband had turned cold, her daughter had severed ties, and even her proudest son stood against her.
The closed iron gate loomed before her like a mirror, reflecting nothing but her own haggard, solitary figure.
And she realized–everything she had clung to, everything she thought she controlled, had already crumbled into dust.
Standing on the ruins, for the first time, Martha felt the bone–deep chill of helplessness and despair.
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