Before he could finish, Elise stepped in front of him with dramatic flair, as if shielding him from some invisible threat. Her glare pinned me in place.
"Dad, you don't have to explain anything to him!" she snapped. "If it weren't for him, we wouldn't have been separated for so many years!"
Her words barely landed before my mother stormed over. Her palm cracked across my cheek with such force that my head snapped sideways. A ringing settled in my ears, followed by the faint taste of iron in my mouth.
"You ungrateful brat!" she screamed. "If Francis hadn't told us today that you blackmailed him and arranged for his kidnapping, we never would've known the real reason he vanished ten years ago!"
Her chest heaved with rage as she pointed an accusing finger at me. "You just couldn't stand watching your brother get ahead, could you? Stealing his woman wasn't enough? You wanted to be the Rogers' son-in-law, but then you acted like you were some self-sacrificing martyr! Watching your father and me nearly fall to our knees—did that make you feel proud, Oliver? Did it?!"
Her voice cracked with fury. "How could I have given birth to such a heartless, treacherous son!"