Vanessa looked down at her dress. The white silk was now translucent, clinging to her skin, the hem heavy with water. Her face didn’t register shock; it registered a pure, unadulterated vanity that had been wounded.
“You… you little monster!” Vanessa shrieked.
Leo’s bottom lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Auntie Vanny. It was an accident.”
But Vanessa wasn’t listening. She didn’t see a child. She saw a ruined photo op. She saw a blemish on her perfect night.
The sound of the slap was so sharp it echoed off the marble walls. The force of it was enough to snap Leo’s head back. He didn’t even have time to cry out. He hit the floor hard, his small frame limp against the cold stone.
“Leo!” I screamed, lunging forward.
I reached him in a second, pulling him into my lap. He was pale, a dark bruise already forming on his cheek, his eyes rolled back. He had hit his head on the way down. He was unconscious.
“My dress!” Vanessa roared, gesturing to the wet silk. “This is a five-figure gown, Marcus! And this clumsy little brat ruined it! Why did you even let her bring him here?”
My father and mother hurried over. My mother didn’t look at Leo. She didn’t check to see if her grandson was breathing. She reached out and touched the wet fabric of Vanessa’s dress.
“Oh, Vanessa, darling, it’s ruined,” my mother whispered, horrified. Then, she turned her gaze toward me, her eyes filled with a terrifying coldness. She stepped forward and lightly kicked Leo’s leg. “Get him up, Isabella. Stop letting him play-act for sympathy. He’s a clumsy freeloader, just like you. Look what you’ve done to your sister’s night.”
“He’s unconscious,” I said, my voice coming out in a rasp I didn’t recognize. My hands were shaking as I cradled Leo’s head. “She hit him. She hit a five-year-old.”
“He needed to be taught a lesson,” my father said, standing over us like a judge. “He’s been a burden since the day he was born. Now, take him and cút khỏi đây ngay. Get out of my sight before I have security throw you into the street.”
I looked up at them. I saw the three of them—Vanessa, Marcus, and Elena—standing in a row. They looked like the perfect family. They looked like winners.
Inside me, the mother, the protector, was screaming in agony. But another part of me—the CEO, the woman who had built a multi-billion dollar empire from a laptop in a studio apartment while they thought I was “soul searching”—was becoming terrifyingly calm.
I felt a presence behind me. A shadow fell over the floor.
“Is he okay, Ma’am?” a low voice asked.
It was Elias, my head of security. To my family, he was just a man in a black suit they assumed worked for the hotel. To the rest of the world, he was the lead operative for Aurora Holdings’ executive protection.
“Elias,” I said, my voice as cold as the marble beneath me. “Take Leo to the private medical suite upstairs. Have Dr. Aris check him immediately. Do not leave his side.”
Elias knelt, gently taking Leo from my arms. My family watched with confusion as the “hotel guard” treated me with a level of deference they had never seen.
“Isabella, what are you doing?” Marcus demanded. “I told you to leave.”
I stood up. I smoothed my simple black dress. I wiped a stray tear from my cheek and stood at my full height. I was taller than Vanessa, and at that moment, I felt taller than the building.
“Sorry” I said.
Vanessa laughed, a shrill, ugly sound. “Excuse me?”
“Apologize to my son,” I said, stepping into her space. “Apologize for hitting him. Apologize right now, and I might show you mercy.”
“Mercy?” Vanessa sneered, looking around at the surrounding guests who were now whispering. “Who do you think you are, ra lệnh cho tao? I am the savior of this company. I am the reason you have a roof over your head. You are nothing but a stain on our reputation. Security!” she yelled, looking for Marcus’s team. “Get this woman out of here!”
Chapter 3: The Refusal
Marcus stepped forward, his hand reaching for my arm to drag me away. “You’ve gone too far, Isabella. You’ve always been jealous of Vanessa’s success, but to try and manufacture a scene tonight? It’s pathetic.”
“I am not jealous of a thief, Father,” I said, pulling my arm back.
“Thief?” Vanessa gasped. “I secured five hundred million dollars! I saved Titan Corp!”
“You didn’t secure a dime,” I said. “You wouldn’t know a venture capital pitch from a grocery list. You stole the credit for a deal you didn’t understand, and tonight, you hit the son of the woman who actually signed your life preserver.”
Leave a Comment