Larissa's Game of Thrones (Larissa) novel Chapter 662

Herbert's blood ran cold. He slammed on the brakes, flicked on the hazard lights, and steered the car toward the side of the road.

The moment the car stopped, Theon leaped out. He refused to run away like a coward.

But as his feet hit the pavement, he heard horrified screams from pedestrians behind him. He spun around just in time to see a car hurtling toward him at nearly eighty miles an hour.

His pupils dilated in terror.

In the next instant, his body was thrown into the air by the force of the impact before crashing violently back down onto the road. As he lay there, a searing pain shot through his organs, but his vision remained clear for a fleeting moment.

He heard the screech of tires as the car that had hit him made a sharp U-turn and sped back toward him.

For some reason, Larissa's words from the previous night echoed in his mind: "I just want to see how tough your skull really is…"

...

At 9:30 in the morning, Livia returned to the Tyson family villa for the first time in ages. The moment she stepped inside, she came face to face with Margot in the living room.

Margot looked surprised, then forced a smile. "Livia, it's been so long. What brings you back today?"

Livia clenched her fists, staring at Margot's false smile. "The reason I stayed away was so I wouldn't have to see you."

She would never forget the image of this woman showing up pregnant on their doorstep to taunt her mother. Margot had played the victim, pitifully claiming she had no choice and begging for forgiveness, but her eyes had been filled with triumphant provocation, a sight that had sent her mother's health into a steep decline.

Margot’s expression darkened. Seeing that Livia wasn't drinking the water, she picked it up and took a sip herself.

"You're just as stubborn as your mother. But the more you act like her, the less your father will ever care for you. Why don't you understand that? If you just showed a little weakness, I might consider asking your father to be kinder to you…"

Her words were cut off by the ringing of her phone. She glanced at the caller ID—it was Theon. He must have woken up and was calling to confront her.

Margot sighed and answered, "Theon, have you reached the airport?"

"Excuse me, is this Margot, the mother of the deceased, Theon Tyson?" a man's professional voice asked from the other end.

Margot froze, thinking she must have misheard. "The deceased? What are you talking about?"