The Billionaire's Revenge Fiancée

Chapter 3

Olive:

My father, Derek Bellini, stayed in a private room in the best hospital I could afford in the States.

I rushed into his room to find him lying on the bed, one hand connected to a drip while a monitor beeped steadily beside him. A nurse was checking his vitals.

My heart clenched.

“What happened?” I asked.

My father’s eyes fluttered open, and they brightened the moment they landed on me.

“Ollie, you’re here.” He called me by the nickname he'd given me since I was little. “You didn’t have to come. I just wanted to enjoy a horror movie at home. I guess my heart couldn’t take the jump scare. Those movies are looking more real every day.”

I went by his side and glanced at the nurse, who nodded, confirming his story.

“He’s already been treated and just needs to rest. His caregiver found him on time, so things didn’t get serious,” she said before leaving.

A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding escaped me. I sighed in relief before turning to my dad with the best glare I could muster.

“You should know better than to watch anything that’ll spike your blood pressure.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen,” he said. Then he stroked my face softly, brows furrowing. “How was work? You look stressed. Is everything going well?”

I smiled.

It was almost painful how easily he worried about me when he was the one lying in a hospital bed.

I had gone to extreme measures to make sure he knew nothing about the current state of the company so I wouldn’t worsen his heart condition, and I intended for things to stay that way. If a horror movie could land him in the hospital, I didn’t want to imagine how he would react to our balance sheet.

“The company is fine. You’re the one making me stressed.” I looked around the room and asked, “Where is Mom? Why wasn’t she there to stop you from your recklessness?”

I watched the light in my dad’s eyes dim a little, and I immediately knew something was wrong. He was hiding something from me.

“Dad.” I pressed, searching his eyes. He looked away and I instantly guessed what had happened.

Once, I had believed my family was perfect — a big, happy one. But along the way, my mother, Felicia, started to become more distant from us. It started with missing recitals in school, or forgetting to pick me up, or neglecting one thing or another.

Then the small things became normal. She paid less and less attention to either my dad or me.

I resented her for it, but my father loved her very much and always made excuses for her. She was busy. She was tired. She would do better.

But after his heart failure, she went from bad to worse. When we went through the biggest financial crash of our lives, she blamed my father for it and threw tantrums when he could no longer afford us the fancy life that we had always had.

She was openly hostile, but even then, my father was still understanding, even when I could no longer recognize the woman who had given birth to me.

“Dad, when was the last time Mom was home?” My voice was cold.

“Olive, please.”

“Tell me.”

He sighed before reluctantly saying, “Three days.”

My fingers tightened as my blood ran cold.

“You’ve been alone for three days. She left you in the house by yourself?” I snapped.

“I can handle myself.”

“No, you can’t. You’re sick, you need care.” I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. “Is she that heartless? You could’ve died today if not for the caregiver who checks up on you in the morning. I wanted to hire a full-time caregiver for you previously, but you told me Mom was enough. How many times does she leave you alone?”

He looked down again. That was enough to tell me this was a common occurrence. My chest tightened with anger.

“That’s it. I’m hiring a live-in caregiver.”

“I don’t want you wasting money on me. You can save it up for your mother.”

“So she can use it to buy more designer shoes?” I spat. “Open your eyes, Dad. When will you see that she has a problem?”

“Don’t speak about her that way.”

I sighed.

Of course. Even now, he was defending her. Nothing I said would convince him that the woman my mother had become was no longer the woman he had married. He was always like this — understanding, patient, and forgiving.

I just prayed his patience wouldn’t be the death of him one day.

“I’ll hire someone for you. No questions.” I tucked him in and placed a kiss on his head. “I’ll go find Mom.”

Before I left his bedside, he grabbed my hand.

“Don’t make trouble with her.”

“I won’t,” I reassured him before leaving the room.

As soon as I was outside, the smile on my face dropped as I fished out my phone. I needed to give her a piece of my mind and also make sure she was still f*****g alive.

My mother’s number went straight to voicemail.

“Mom, where are you? How could you leave Dad alone knowing his con—”

My voice trailed off as my eyes landed on a woman stepping out of a Cybertruck right outside the hospital.

She was dressed lavishly, her brown hair perfectly done, and her skin impossibly flawless. She had a face nearly identical to mine, just a little older.

My mother.

My heart sank. She looked nothing like a woman whose husband was sick, and more like she just stepped out of a fashion runway.

I hurried towards her to see who was dropping her off, but the truck sped off before I got close enough to see.

When she locked eyes with me, her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she fixed a small smile.

“Olive, darling, you’re here. I heard Derek fainted. I was so worried. I’ll go see him now.”

She started walking, but I grabbed her hand, where the latest limited-edition Chanel crystal-embellished bag was hanging from.

“Who were you just with? Don’t tell me you’re seeing another man?” My eyes narrowed.

Her perfect brows scrunched and she slapped my hands away.

“What are you talking about? I would never betray your father. That was just a friend.”

“Then explain where you’ve been for the last three days, and how you came to get all this.” I pointed at all her luxury items.

“I bought them with money.”

I almost laughed.

Money.

Two years ago, I’d sold every luxury item I had just to keep the family afloat, and it still wasn’t enough. I was spending sleepless nights trying to make sure we wouldn’t go bankrupt.

I was watching every dollar that came in and went out and here she was, casually spending what little money we had left on bags and shoes.

“Mom, you know we can’t afford all this.” I gritted out, fingers clenched. “You’re wasting what we have left.”

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed.

“Wasting?” She spat. “My friends were having a hangout. You didn’t expect me to show up looking all drab, did you?”

“Is that why you left Dad alone despite his condition?”

“He has a heart condition, not disabled. He can handle himself around the house in my absence.”

She rolled her eyes without remorse. Then she wrinkled her nose, her gaze raking down my body.

“Olive, you should take care of yourself more. Look at all those dark circles. And that suit…You’re an heiress, dress like one. How are you going to find a husband looking like this?”

“I’m like this because I’m trying to save us from bankruptcy.”

She scoffed.

“If you really want to help us, quit that company and find a wealthy man to marry. You’re letting this beauty go to waste.” She clicked her tongue. “Wear a slutty dress, go to the club and all our problems will be fixed.”

Her words were like daggers straight to my heart. She really didn’t care, did she? My dad was up there defending her, and this was all she had to say for her actions.

I looked at the woman standing in front of me and felt something inside me crack. I couldn’t even recognize her anymore.

Before she could turn her back on me, I reached out and grabbed her Chanel bag.

“What are you doing?” She struggled against me.

“This will be enough to hire a caretaker for Dad since you’re too busy to care about him.”

“This was a gift. Let it go.” She snapped.

“We need the money.”

“I don’t care. You’re causing a scene.”

She tugged the bag harshly. The force lurched me forward and I felt my heel snap underneath my weight. She raised the Chanel bag and slapped me across the face with it, the edge slicing across my hairline.

I stumbled to the floor, feeling a sharp sting at the side of my head.

For a moment, everything went quiet.

Slowly, I raised my hand and touched my head, only to wince and retract it when I saw the blood on my fingers.

I stared at it, then I looked up at her. She was holding her bag possessively against her chest, her eyes wide as she’d just protected it from a mugger.

For a second, I thought I saw guilt flash through them. Then it disappeared and her eyes turned cold.

“Look what you made me do. You better get that checked out. A scar would drive away suitors.” She straightened her dress. “As for your father, there’s no need for a caretaker. I’ve always taken good care of him.”

She turned and walked away.

I didn’t know how long I remained on the floor, watching her disappear through the doors.

I had spent years trying to earn her love and making excuses for her. Years telling myself that maybe she would eventually look at me and see her daughter again, but maybe she never would.

“Miss, are you alright? Do you want to get that checked out?”

A nurse approached me, glancing at the cut on my head.

I shook my head and stood up, glancing at my broken heel.

“No, I’m fine.”

I went to my car and brought out a Band-Aid from the compartment before slapping it over the wound.

This was how it had been.

I was used to looking after myself.

What I wasn’t used to was having a mother who didn’t care about her husband or her child. But just like everything else in my life, I was too powerless to do anything about it.