THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.
Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Chapter 48

That answer made Sir Victor’s nostrils flare slightly. He sat back slowly in his chair, nodding as though preparing to say something heavier.

"Fine then," he said. "Since you can’t help your brother, then help yourself. This friend-zone nonsense you’re playing with Cora—it has to stop. You clearly have something for her, but you’re pretending like you don’t. So why don’t you go for her? Hmm?"

He leaned forward again, voice low and challenging.

"Why don’t you bring her into this family yourself?"

Right at that moment, Williams—who had just returned from pouring himself another glass of wine—choked as he overheard those words. A rough cough escaped his throat, and he nearly spilled the drink on his shirt.

The sound echoed through the room.

But not a single person looked at him.

Sir Victor’s intense stare remained fixed on Oliver, unmoving, as though Williams didn’t even exist at that moment.

And then Oliver slowly stood up, adjusting his shirt slightly. His face remained calm, but his words were sharp.

"Well," Oliver said, "like you’ve just reminded me, Father—we’re just friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. I don’t have any intention of going beyond that with her."

He picked up his car keys and moved toward the door.

"But I do have a dinner hangout with her today..." he added casually, glancing briefly at the clock. "And I’m kind of running late."

At that moment, upon hearing what Oliver just said—that he was having dinner with Cora and was running late—Sir Victor’s face turned red with frustration. Without thinking, he pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly, pointing a trembling finger at his son. His voice cracked, not from weakness, but from pent-up anger that had clearly been boiling beneath the surface.

"Why are you doing this, Oliver?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the lavish room. "Why are you always like this?! Why must you always be the odd one out in this family?!"

Oliver didn’t flinch. He simply looked at his father with tired eyes, but he didn’t respond yet. His silence only made Sir Victor angrier.

"You’re going on a dinner with Cora, yet you keep parading around saying she’s just a friend? Do you even understand what you’re saying? Do you know what this family stands to gain if we just bring her in—if we just stop playing this ridiculous ’friendship’ game?"

Sir Victor took a few steps toward Oliver, breathing heavily now, the veins in his neck visibly pulsing. "All I’m asking is for you to do what is right—not for yourself—but for all of us. Just one thing, Oliver. One thing!"

Oliver finally let out a slow sigh, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve as if he was brushing off the tension.

"I said I’m having dinner with her," he replied calmly. "I never said it’s the kind of dinner you’re thinking of. It’s not romantic. It’s not part of your plan. It’s just a casual catch-up between two friends who haven’t seen each other in a while."

Then he looked his father dead in the eyes. "And what you’re hoping for? That part... it’s not going to happen. Because we are just friends. And I’m not going to sell her out or lead her into something she doesn’t want—just because it benefits this family."

Sir Victor’s lips parted, stunned for a second—not by Oliver’s words, but by how controlled and firm his tone was.

Before the older man could respond, Oliver turned to the door.

"I’ll excuse myself now," he said over his shoulder. "If Williams is really serious about her... then let him go and do the chasing himself."

And just like that, Oliver walked out.

Silence lingered in the room for a few seconds, heavy and sharp like a knife.

Then suddenly—bang!

Sir Victor kicked the leg of the table hard with his foot. The sound of wood thudding echoed violently, followed by a sharp groan of pain from his own mouth as he grabbed his ankle and stumbled back a bit.

"Useless son of mine!" he barked through gritted teeth. "Always doing things the hard way! He’s just making life more difficult for me every blessed day!"

Williams, who had been watching quietly, now stepped forward with a confident smirk and placed his glass on the table.

"Father, don’t worry," he said, a dark glint in his eyes. "You see, he’s not interested..."

He straightened up, his voice filled with conviction.

"But I am really, really interested. And I’m going to do everything possible to get her."

At that moment, his father looked at Williams with a contemplative expression, his arms slowly folding across his chest. Deep down, he wasn’t fully convinced. He had known Williams since birth—his first son, the so-called heir to the family empire, the one with the perfect business acumen and charisma that could sway entire boardrooms. But when it came to women, Williams had a reputation that left Sir Victor restless many nights.

A brilliant mind wasted on cheap pleasures—that’s how Sir Victor often saw it.

He narrowed his eyes at his son, thinking quietly. A desperate man can’t always succeed, but a determined man... that’s a different story. _{free\we,bnovel.c o(m)}

Williams had promised to stop his womanizing ways. He had even looked his father in the eyes and sworn it. But Sir Victor had lived too long and seen too much to take words at face value. Still, this was a chance. A gamble, yes, but one that might work—if Williams showed something more than entitlement. If he really fought.

"Maybe," Sir Victor muttered to himself, "just maybe, if he pushes with real effort and sincerity... maybe Cora would at least listen."

Because Cora wasn’t the type of woman to fall easily. She didn’t care about titles or family names. She was the kind who respected action, not talk. If Williams was serious, if he could show Cora that he had changed, that he could be a man worthy of her time... maybe, just maybe, this door wouldn’t shut entirely.

Sir Victor’s voice lowered, firm but supportive, "Williams... you’ll have to prove yourself. If you want her, don’t expect her to come to you. Chase her. Fight for her. Show her you’ve changed."