Blind date turned proposal (Josie and Dexter) novel Chapter 1173

Josie's voice was barely audible as she asked, “Who is this?”

Xanthe wouldn't respond to her at the moment, but Arnold recognized it with just one glance. “Her son. He's in poor health. From this photo, he seems to be at death's door.”

Evidently, he wasn't referring to Dexter, but to her other son who resided abroad.

Arnold saw her confusion. “Don't you know Xanthe has another son, named Brodie Quorn? He was born with a congenital heart disease and has been raised overseas since childhood, relying on hospitals to sustain his life.”

Josie only knew that besides Dexter, she had another son, but she was unclear about the rest.

Arnold added nonchalantly, “She could be considered a devoted mother. For the sake of her son, she ran hither and thither, even returning to the country to seek help from her long-abandoned elder son. She asked him for money, for medical resources. Unfortunately, her time was short. She hurt you, and Dexter cut off all her financial resources, forcing her to come to me for help.” He smiled. “It wasn't easy. I remember back then, I gave you a substantial amount of money. Didn't that even save your son?”

Xanthe slumped to the ground, her tears falling uncontrollably. “Dexter is a madman. He cut off Brodie's medical resources, leaving him to lie at home, waiting for death.”

Hurting a person was never about harming them directly, but rather, it was about hurting those they cared about the most. Dexter understood this clearly. The person Xanthe cared about the most was Brodie.

“If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ended up like this. I should never have given birth to him in the first place.” Xanthe shook her head continuously, filled with regret.

Josie crouched down and looked at her in disbelief. “Xanthe, do you really have no sympathy for me even now?”

Upon hearing this, Xanthe wished she could tear Dexter apart. “You ungrateful child! You can't treat me like this! You can't treat me this way for a woman! That's your younger brother!”

Dexter stood unmoving for a long time. Only when she had exhausted herself did he softly ask, “Have you ever considered me as your son?”

Xanthe froze in place.

“You've been using me from the beginning until the end, haven't you? You never intended to make things easy for me.” Dexter looked on with cold indifference. He picked up the photo Xanthe used to remember her son from the table, tearing it into pieces bit by bit. “He truly deserves to die.”

“Dexter!” Xanthe cried out. She tilted her head back, watching the shattered photo fluttering down, and in her moment of despair, she pleaded, “Don't treat me like this.”