Brandon and Colin nearly laughed out loud at the pathetic, transparent performance.
Martin, predictably, was horrified that his beloved wife would even suggest such a thing.
"Sabrina, what kind of nonsense are you talking about?" Martin gasped, pulling her tighter against his chest. "How could I ever kick you out?
Stop listening to their toxic garbage. Please, don't upset yourself. Let me take you upstairs to rest. I'll handle the mess down here.
You are my wife. Wherever I am, that is your home. Go upstairs. Let me deal with this!"
Just the mere mention of the shares had allegedly given Sabrina heart palpitations earlier. Seeing his sons relentlessly attack her, Martin was terrified she might actually have a heart attack right here on the polished marble floor.
He practically carried her up the stairs to safety, and then stomped back down the stairs, his face dark with fury.
His sons hadn't moved an inch. They stood there like statues, entirely unfazed, clearly ready to continue the war.
"Have you both completely lost all respect for me?"
"Dad, don't say that," Brandon replied calmly. "We're doing this for the survival of the family. Aren't you?
We all want the same thing, but you are completely blinded to what actually needs to be done.
Since you can't see clearly, we are forcing you to open your eyes.
Lillian has been alienated for a long time. Bringing her back is going to take a monumental effort.
We have to bleed for it. Don't you realize that if we want her back, we have to rip out the root of the poison?"
"And what exactly is this root you want to rip out? Do you want me to get a divorce?
I finally married the love of my life after years of tragedy and separation.

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