The Heiress Chooses Madness novel Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

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Kayla lowered her gaze, as if finally cornered into speaking. Her voice came out hesitant, but clear enough to be heard. “Lately, Tris has been hanging out with some people I don’t know. He shaved his head and started talking about getting a

tattoo.

“I tried to stop him, and he was mad. He even cut me with a knife. He told me it was a warning… to mind my own business.”

Tristian’s face turned red with rage. He shouted, “You lying bitch, you’re twisting everything.”

Kayla trembled slightly, as though startled by his outburst.

Yet she still calmed herself down and added, “Dad, I’m telling the truth. If you don’t believe me, just have Tris take off his wig. You’ll see for yourself.”

The moment the words left her lips, Jackson’s gaze turned ice–cold, his eyes narrowing as they locked on the top of Tristian’s head.

Kayla shaved his head last night and even carved the word “jerk” on his scalp. Humiliated, Tristian went out today wearing a wig to cover it up.

And as for the carving, he’d rushed to a tattoo parlor first thing in the morning to have it covered.

Since the day she came back, Kayla had been ready for war with Tristian, with Marianna, and with anyone who had once hurt her. Of course she’d arranged to have people keep an eye on Tristian. She knew where he’d been today.

Tristian’s expression twisted. He instinctively raised a hand to touch his head. It wasn’t guilt that showed on his face, but pure humiliation.

After all, a grown man getting his head shaved by his younger sister was way too humiliating.

Jackson’s face turned cloudy. His voice was low, furious. “Is what she said true?”

Tristian opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to form a reply.

Jackson, fed up, reached out without warning and ripped the wig right off Tristian’s head.

Under the harsh ceiling light, the truth was blinding. His scalp gleamed, bare and freshly shaved. A gauze bandage wrapped around part of it, and the edges of a newly inked tattoo peeked out beneath it.

Jackson’s fury erupted upon seeing that. He raised his hand and slapped Tristian’s face, the sound echoing through the

room.

Jackson spat, “You idiot. Look at yourself. Is this what the heir to the Sexton family is supposed to look like?”

In the business world, one could have their vices or secrets. But in public, their image was everything. Jackson always said he supported innovation, that he embraced change. But deep down, he was as old–school as they came.

He’d spent years grooming Tristian to take over the family legacy. And now, Tristian shaved his head, wore a tattoo, and looked more like a street punk than a future CEO.

Tristian staggered, stunned by the slap, but quickly recovered and started to protest, “Dad, it’s not what you think. It wasn’t my idea. Kayla did this to me.

“She’s the one who shaved my head and carved a word. I wouldn’t have gotten a tattoo if it weren’t for her. It’s all her doing.”

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