Secret Admiration: Finding True Love After…
Chapter 580 The Scapegoat
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Felix’s father showed no care for him, and his brothers, full of snide remarks, weren’t above stabbing him in the back.
Only now did Meryl realize Felix’s seemingly glamorous life was nothing but a facade.
His position in the Powell family was likely even worse than her own experience at Stone Villa.
Despite his crippled legs, the Powell family still suspected he was faking his condition.
Noticing her staring, Felix curved his lips into a faint, mischievous smirk. “Overheard everything, did you?”
Meryl bit her lip and cautiously asked, “All these years… have you been handling the Powell family’s dirty work?”
Leaning back against the headboard, Felix closed his eyes. “More or less.”
Her suspicions were confirmed. Felix was nothing more than a tool for the Powell family. No one cared about his life or death, nor whether he was happy or healthy. The only concern was whether he got the job done and didn’t drag the Powell family down.
He’d suffered a life–threatening injury last night, and yet his
Chapter 580 The Scapegoat
so–called family didn’t seem to care at all. The thought made Meryl feel a crushing sense of suffocation.
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“That gunshot wound on your shoulder, was that Christopher’s doing?”
Felix’s eyes narrowed. “If not him, then my elder brother. Why? Feeling sorry for me? Not calling me ruthless anymore?”
“I’m just curious. If you hadn’t started that fire at the Walker Villa, what would have happened?”
“The Powell family doesn’t keep useless people. If I hadn’t lit that fire, it still would’ve ended up as if I had.”
Meryl frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean by that?”
“You’ve asked too many questions tonight. Aren’t you afraid of me anymore?” Felix’s eyes glimmered with mockery as he tilted his chin toward her.
“I’ll give you two choices, either leave now, or…”
Felix patted the other side of the bed, the meaning clear without
words.
Meryl didn’t hesitate to choose the first option.
Philip escorted her out through the back door. As they walked, Meryl couldn’t stop mulling over Felix’s words.
He wasn’t just stating facts, and he was telling her that no
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matter who set the fire at Walker Villa, the blame would have
fallen on him.
Felix was the Powell family’s chosen scapegoat, bearing the consequences for all their sordid deeds. Even if he hadn’t committed the arson, someone else’s actions would still have been pinned on him.
The realization sent a chill through Meryl.
The Powell family’s journey from darkness to respectability came at Felix’s expense. He endured a decade in prison, was branded a murderer and arsonist, and became the devil that society feared and shunned.
But that wasn’t the real Felix. The Powell family had made him into this figure of infamy. Many of the crimes attributed to him weren’t even his doing. They had simply been shoved onto his shoulders.
He was a tool for the family’s benefit, abandoned from the very beginning. His cruelty was nothing more than a mask to conceal his pain. No one cared about the true Felix, the child who had never known love.
Meryl’s gaze dropped to the ground.
Regret gnawed at her. She’d quarreled with Felix earlier, calling him cold–blooded.
But how could someone who had never been loved or cared for
be anything else?
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Her words had likely cut him deeper than any physical wound.
“Ms. Stone, if you go around this corner, you’ll reach your orchestra,” Philip said.
Meryl nodded softly and took a few steps before hesitating. She turned back.
“Give this to Felix for me.”
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