The Sleeping Beauty Was Just His Stand-In So I Let Her Go — Novel

Olivia stared at the debris, her chest heaving. Her face—usually beautiful—twisted into something hideous.

*Heh.* In her heart, Spencer Delgado was a god. His restaurant opening was more important than my mother's life.

"You're being unreasonable! Your thinking is archaic. It's just a modeling gig—was it necessary to get so agitated that she fainted?"

*CRASH!*

I kept smashing. Furniture. Vases. Plates. Everything within reach.

Olivia grabbed a chair and brought it down on my head. Pain exploded in my skull. I crumpled to the floor.

Blood trickled into my eye. Through the red haze, I looked up at her.

She wasn't looking at me like a husband.

She was looking at me like I had murdered her father.

"Smash it! Go ahead! I'll call the police and make you pay for every cent." Her voice dropped to a hiss. "Damn it, your mother just passed out from anger, didn't she? Good. I hope she dies from it."

The bystanders watched with glee, hoping for more drama. Not a single person stepped forward to help. Most were Spencer's friends. The rest were too busy ogling Olivia's exposed skin.

The commotion finally drew the man himself. Spencer Delgado sprinted down from the VIP box on the second floor.

"What the hell is going on? Who is trashing my shop on opening day?"

"It's him!" A bystander pointed at me.

Spencer's eyes darkened. "Christopher Dickerson. Are you sick?"

He strolled over, a sneer curling his lips. "Why smash my shop? Are you that obsessed with me? Even if you die, you want to drag me down?"

A harsh laugh scraped out of my throat. "The culprit who ruined your shop is the person who won't let me take my dying mother to the hospital."

Spencer glanced at my unconscious mother. Not a shred of humanity crossed his face. He smirked and turned to Olivia.

"You did well. They're definitely faking it. This is clearly a coordinated shakedown."

He addressed the room. "First, he comes to cause trouble. Now, he uses a fake fainting spell as an excuse to destroy my property." A dismissive wave of his hand. "Boys, teach him a lesson."

At his command, the security guards descended on me.

I curled into a ball, shielding my mother with my body. Fists and boots rained down on my back.

Through the gaps in my arms, I saw her face. Eyes tightly shut. A single, silent tear leaking from the corner of her eye.

Her hand—which had been gripping mine—went limp and slipped to the floor.