A flash of panic crossed Chloe's eyes before her body went limp. She leaned against him and said weakly,
"Julian, my head is starting to hurt again. All this commotion... I can feel my inspiration slipping away. I'm so scared..."
Panic flashed across Julian's face. He scooped Chloe into his arms, his voice strained with anxiety.
"Your inspiration is fading? Was it because of them? I'll take you back to your room to rest right now."
Before leaving, Julian cast a dark look at my son and me.
"If you two won't learn to respect my art, I'll have to teach you a lesson!"
"Since you care so much about Leo, you can take his punishment. Write a sincere letter of apology to Chloe."
With that, he turned and left with Chloe in his arms, ordering his assistant to watch us before he went.
My son's eyes were filled with fear and confusion.
He couldn't understand why his father had become such a stranger.
Guarded in the studio by his assistant, I comforted my son.
Looking up at the family photo of the three of us on the wall, I felt nothing but irony.
This home no longer had room for me and my son.
I refused to write that letter, and the stalemate lasted until nightfall.
When Julian emerged from the room, there wasn't a trace of guilt on his face.
Instead, he accused my son and me of being inconsiderate and harming his career.
To maintain his image as a good father and husband, he offered to take us to a charity gala.
Seeing the hopeful look in my son's eyes, I agreed.
It was only when we arrived at the banquet hall that I understood Julian's true reason for bringing me: he expected me to wait on Chloe hand and foot.
"Elena, go get me a glass of champagne. Less ice."
"Elena, the caviar over there looks divine. Bring me a plate."
She ordered me around nonstop, while Julian, oblivious, mingled and toasted with other guests.
The occasional glance he threw my way was a clear warning to behave myself.
Suddenly, Chloe said, "Elena, I just had a stroke of inspiration. Go to my car and get my sketchbook."
But when I returned to the banquet hall, I couldn't find my son, Leo.
It wasn't until I saw what was happening in the third-floor lounge area that I began to tremble with rage.
Leo was surrounded and being bullied by a clique of Instagram models.
One of them snatched his iPad and sneered.
"Hey kid, you call these scribbles paintings? Why don't you bark like a dog for us? If you do it well, we'll give your iPad back."
My son was being shoved back and forth, his face pale with fright.
Seeing red, I charged forward, shoved them all aside, and shielded my son behind me.
"Are you out of your minds? A group of adults ganging up on a little kid!"
Chloe's voice cut in at that moment. "Elena, how can you say that?"
"My friends just thought Leo was cute and wanted to play with him. You're overreacting."
My eyes burned with fury. "Chloe, did you put them up to this!"
But Julian just pressed his temples impatiently.
"That's enough, Elena! Making a scene over nothing. Apologize to Chloe's friends. Now!"
It was our son who had been humiliated, yet he was still defending Chloe and her so-called friends.
