My Brother Became a Vegetable To Save Me Novel by NANCY ROWSE

Joseph reacted as if Melissa had struck a nerve. He jumped to his feet, enraged. The gentle gaze he once held for her was gone, replaced by fury as he slapped her across the face.

Blood trickled from the corner of Melissa’s mouth, and her dark eyes filled with hate, tinged with madness. “Did I hit a nerve, Joseph? Is that why you’re so angry?” she taunted.

“Joseph, you don’t love Catherine. You don’t even love me. You only love yourself!”

“You discarded her because she no longer brought you value. You always said women shouldn’t be so strong, that they should be soft and obedient like me.’

“That’s because she was too good–her brilliance outshone yours. You couldn’t even compete with her in the company. You were afraid she’d surpass you!”

Melissa’s words, sharp as knives, cut through the air, her frail body trembling as she spoke.

Seeing her like this only made Joseph more furious. Ignoring the fact that he had just had surgery, he slapped her again, hard. Melissa’s once–pale face instantly swelled, resembling two large, swollen buns, making her look pitiful.

“It was you who manipulated me! If it weren’t for you, I never would have hurt her time and again!” Joseph lashed out, seeking an excuse for his actions.

But Melissa, once swayed by his sweet talk, was far more resolute than I ever was.

She spat out a mouthful of blood, her words cold: “Really? Then why were you so willing to follow my lead, Joseph? If you love me, why are you hitting me now?”

Melissa’s sharp questions hit their mark. She knew exactly where Joseph’s vulnerabilities lay, and she pressed down on them mercilessly.

“You say you loved Catherine–what did your love bring her?”

“I gave her money. Jewels. Anything she wanted, I gave her…” Joseph clung to this, as if by remembering the gifts, he could justify himself.

“Did she even like those things? If you truly love someone, shouldn’t you know what they really want?” Melissa countered.

Joseph had no reply.

Of course, the answer was no.

I never cared for jewelry or expensive gifts, nor did I enjoy the idle chatter of socialites over afternoon tea. I preferred the thrill of the corporate battlefield, where I could compete and achieve real results.

But Joseph didn’t like that.

He always worried about my injuries, pitying me for having to fight in a man’s world. He hoped, time and again, that I would step down.

I refused him every time. So, he proposed to