"You evil woman! What are you trying to do to my mommy and daddy!"
Something sharp sliced across my neck. I felt a thin line of cold, and when I reached up to touch it, my fingers came away red. Blood.
Elliot and Gladys's kid stood in front of me with his hands on his hips, chin jutted out in that insufferable way that was a carbon copy of his father.
Something clattered to the floor. I looked down and finally saw what it was: a small pair of scissors.
They weren't big, and a child didn't have much strength behind them, but they'd absolutely broken the skin on my neck.
I walked over, picked up the scissors, and threw them right back without hesitation. Elliot moved fast, lunging forward to shield the kid.
The scissors didn't touch his skin, though. Neither of them had so much as a scratch.
"Imogen! Have you lost your mind? He's a child!"
Gladys let out an ear-splitting shriek, throwing herself into Elliot's arms as she screamed.
"Elliot, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
She looked him over from head to toe, then dropped to her knees to inspect the kid.
Once she'd confirmed they were both fine, she stormed over to me and slapped me across the face.
I didn't see it coming. She actually landed it.
But I wasn't someone who took a hit lying down. I slapped her right back.
Elliot clearly hadn't expected that a woman reduced to working as a servant would still have the nerve to fight back. He swung his arm and shoved me to the ground.
"You psycho! What the hell do you want? I get it now. You knew I'd be at the Farley gala tonight, so you planted yourself here on purpose, waiting to hurt my child and my wife!"
Gladys's screaming had already drawn a crowd. Now, with this new commotion, people closed in around us, whispering among themselves.
"Isn't that Mr. Sanchez? Why is he getting physical with a servant?"
"I saw the whole thing. That woman tried to hurt Mr. Sanchez's child!"
"Exactly. His wife got upset and tried to discipline her, and she actually had the gall to hit back!"
"Shameless. Just because she works for the Farleys, she thinks she's one of them? She's not even fit to shine Mr. Farley's shoes!"
I sat on the floor where Elliot had shoved me, listening to every word.
I thought of my own child. The one who was gone.
The bitterness and the absurdity of it nearly choked me. All I'd done was throw a pair of scissors back at Gladys's kid, and Elliot flew into a rage, putting his hands on me.
But my child, my own flesh and blood, had been lying in a hospital bed dying of a terminal illness, calling out for Daddy over and over again.
And he hadn't batted an eye.
I clenched my jaw. My fists tightened until my nails bit into my palms.
A few seconds later, I let go.
Let it go. Pick your battles.
I'd gone to the auction in secret, outbid everyone under a fake paddle number, and bought the Bloodstone Qilin that had been missing from the Farley collection for over a century. All for Dudley. All so I could surprise him tonight.
I wasn't about to let trash like this ruin it.
I got to my feet slowly. Glen had art class today. Dudley would've gone to pick him up by now and should be back any minute.
I needed to find somewhere to hide so I could surprise him and our son.
But the crowd kept running their mouths, each comment uglier than the last. Some called me shameless. Some called me a tramp. One man actually called me a homewrecker.
I genuinely didn't understand. Were these people blind? Where exactly did they get "homewrecker" from?
Did they just assume that when two women appeared near the same man, one of them had to be the other woman?
I shot a murderous glare at the man who'd called me a homewrecker.
He took one look at the venom on my face and shut his mouth.
But Elliot clearly wasn't done with me. Seeing the defiance still burning in my expression, he let out a cold laugh.
