My father-in-law took blow after blow until blood filled his mouth. He spat out several broken teeth with a guttural wail, then collapsed.

Terror seized me. I lunged to shield him, but security slammed me into the carpet, pinning my limbs down.

"Leon!"

Zoe rushed to save her husband, but Jasmine caught her arm in a vice grip.

"Didn't expect an old hag like you to afford Hermès." Jasmine's eyes raked over her. "Your whole family's been sucking Tony dry for years, haven't you?"

"You cheap tramp!" Zoe's voice shook. "What exactly is your relationship with our Anthony?"

Even now, she refused to believe her son would cheat.

Jasmine smirked down at her. "I own this restaurant. And I'm Anthony Sanchez's current girlfriend." A cruel laugh escaped her. "Your useless daughter-in-law? On her way out."

Zoe trembled with rage. "What nonsense—"

She raised her hand to slap the younger woman, but Jasmine struck first. The blow sent Zoe crumbling to the floor.

"Mom!" I screamed.

Zoe had a severe heart condition. The shock triggered it instantly. She clutched her chest, gasping, curling into a ball of agony.

"Zoe!" Leon tried to crawl toward her, dragging his battered body across the floor. Jasmine's heel came down on his hand, crushing his fingers.

I struggled against the guards. Their grip was iron.

"Are you insane?" I shrieked. "They're Anthony's parents! If anything happens to them, he'll kill you!"

Jasmine froze. The guards exchanged uneasy glances, their hold loosening slightly.

"Manager Maxwell," one ventured, "this lady does resemble Mr. Sanchez. Could she really be—"

"Impossible!" Jasmine scoffed. "Tony's parents live abroad. He just told me he bought tickets to visit them."

My stomach dropped. My in-laws had been enjoying retirement overseas. They'd returned secretly to surprise their son for New Year, contacting me to pick them up.

I never imagined the surprise would become a nightmare.

Before I could explain, Leon choked down blood and pointed a trembling finger at Zoe's handbag.

"Medicine... save your mother!"

I scrambled for the bag, but Jasmine barked, "Hold her down! Gag them both. I'm calling Tony myself."

Rough hands clamped over my mouth. Jasmine dialed on speaker.

"Babe," she cooed, her voice transforming to sugar. "When you go to Canada, can I come? I want to meet your parents."

Anthony chuckled. "No. They don't know I'm divorcing Violet yet. Need to break it to them gently."

"Will they be coming back soon? I wanted to prepare a gift."

"Probably not. My mom's health is too fragile for long flights. Once we're married, I'll take you to meet them."

They exchanged a few more sickeningly sweet words before Jasmine hung up. Her face darkened instantly.

"Damn it. Almost fell for your cheap trick!"

She stormed over and slapped me. My head snapped sideways, cheek burning—but panic for Zoe consumed me.

"Please," I begged. "Her heart medication is in the bag. She's dying!"

"First you impersonate Tony's parents for a free meal, now you're faking a heart attack for compensation?"

Jasmine crouched, patting my cheek mockingly. "No money? This Hermès bag will cover the bill."

She stood and waved at the guards. "Throw these grifters out."

"I want to see who dares!" Leon roared hoarsely, struggling to stand. "I am Anthony Sanchez's father!"

Jasmine kicked him in the mouth.

"Old wretch. Open your trap again and I'll shatter every tooth you have left."

"Dad!"

Red rage blurred my vision. I fought toward him, but the guards dragged me backward, shoving us all toward the exit.

The restaurant buzzed with New Year's Eve energy—spices, laughter, clinking glasses. Then Jasmine raised her voice, and every head turned toward our bedraggled group.

"Everyone, look!" She pointed at us, voice dripping with theatrical outrage. "These shameless people tried to dine and dash! Not a penny to their names, yet they have the audacity to claim my restaurant serves pre-made dishes. And now they're faking illness to skip out on the bill!"

Curiosity curdled into contempt. Whispers hissed through the room.

"High-end establishment, celebrity chef—pre-made dishes? Please. If you can't afford it, don't slander the business."

"Trying to scam people on New Year's Eve? How desperate can you get?"

"Old woman, drop the act. Isn't it humiliating enough getting dragged out like a sack of potatoes?"

"Look at the old geezer. One glance and you can tell he's trouble. Deserved getting his teeth knocked out."

My in-laws had lived lives of dignity. When had they ever endured such public degradation?

Zoe's face turned a terrifying purple. Her body seized, convulsed violently, then went completely limp against the floor.

"Wife!"

"Mom!"

My father-in-law and I screamed together, voices cracking. We begged the crowd for help, and finally, the severity pierced through their prejudice.

"Wait—" a diner muttered. "That looks like a real heart attack."

A man identifying himself as a doctor pushed through. He dropped to his knees and peeled back Zoe's eyelids.

"Pupils dilating. This is critical." He looked up urgently. "Nitroglycerin? Any heart medication? Now!"

I struggled against Jasmine's grip. "Let me go! I need to get her medicine!"

"Save the drama." Jasmine rolled her eyes. "If I let you go, you'll just attack me again."

"She's dying!"

The doctor began chest compressions. Someone finally dialed emergency services.

The security guards shifted uneasily. "Manager Maxwell, if something happens to the old woman, we could be liable..."

Jasmine's expression didn't waver. "They brought this on themselves. Came here to cause trouble—whatever happens, they deserve it." She tossed her hair back. "Besides, my boyfriend is the CEO of the Sanchez Group. With Anthony behind me, what's there to fear?"

Hearing his son's name used as a shield for murder, my father-in-law raised a trembling hand. He opened his mouth to curse, but no sound came. Rage choked him. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

"Dad!"

Sirens wailed closer until the ambulance screeched to a halt outside. Paramedics rushed in, and with the crowd's help, my in-laws were lifted onto stretchers.

Jasmine leaned in close, smirking. "You should be grateful those two old relics know how to play dead. Otherwise—"

I didn't let her finish.

Blinded by fury, I grabbed a wine bottle from the nearest table and smashed it over her head.

Glass shattered. Wine and blood sprayed into the air.

Jasmine clutched her head, screaming as she crumbled to the floor.

"Violet! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Anthony stormed in, eyes widening at the scene.

I pointed at the stretchers. "This bitch caused Mom's heart attack! Dad was so angry he collapsed! Does she deserve to live?!"

Anthony froze. For a split second, his gaze flickered toward his parents.

"Tony... darling..." Jasmine's weak, tearful voice pulled him back. She reached out with a blood-slicked hand, grasping his pant leg. "Violet refused to pay... she hit me... Those two were pretending to be sick to escape the check..."

The security guards chimed in like a rehearsed choir. "Yes! Mr. Sanchez, don't be fooled!"

The hesitation in Anthony's eyes vanished. He knelt to support Jasmine, then looked up at me, gaze ice-cold.

"You'd better pray she's fine," he spat. "If she isn't, your entire family will pay."

He turned to the guards. "Get her to the ambulance. Now."

The paramedics and the doctor were dumbfounded.

"Sir, that's impossible!" The doctor gestured to my in-laws. "These patients are critical—they need immediate transport. The woman has a head injury, but she's stable. Let the elderly go first!"

Jasmine let out a sharp wail, clutched her head tighter, and went limp in Anthony's arms.

His expression darkened. "Can't you see she's unconscious? Drive. Now."

"But sir—"

"If anything happens to her," Anthony cut in, voice low and dangerous, "Mercy General can forget the Sanchez Group's donation next year. Understand?"

The threat hung heavy. The nurse paled, gritted her teeth, and slammed the ambulance doors shut.

I watched in horror as the vehicle sped away—sirens wailing, carrying the woman who caused all this—while my dying in-laws lay on the cold pavement, waiting.

The doctor left behind at the restaurant scrambled to find transportation, his face pale with urgency.

Rage boiled through me. I raised my phone to snap a picture—evidence to force Anthony's eyes open.

Before I could focus, a heavy boot slammed down. A security guard snatched the device and crushed it under his heel.

"Mr. Sanchez's orders," he growled. "No photos. No videos. Unless you want to make an enemy of the Sanchez Group."

He turned to the crowd. "Cooperate, and all bills today are twenty percent off."

The diners complied instantly, heads bowing as they deleted the evidence.

I retrieved my phone from the asphalt—screen shattered, display dead.

The second ambulance finally screamed to a halt. I climbed in, clutching my father-in-law's hand as we sped toward Mercy General.

"Acute myocardial infarction," the doctor shouted over the siren. "Critical. She needs immediate surgery."

Beside me, my father-in-law stirred. Hearing the diagnosis, a sob tore from his throat before his eyes rolled back.

"Stroke indicators!" a paramedic yelled. "Vitals crashing!"

Thirty minutes later, I stood outside the ICU clutching two critical condition notices. My hands trembled.

They only wanted to surprise their son.

A nurse marched over. "Ma'am, we need the deposit immediately. Surgery cannot proceed without payment."

I reached for my wallet, then froze. Anthony had frozen everything. I didn't have a cent.

The elevator dinged.

Anthony stepped out, supporting Jasmine. Her head was wrapped in dramatic bandages, and she leaned into him, playing the fragile victim.

"Anthony!" I lunged toward them, waving the notices. "Mom and Dad are in the ICU! Sign the papers!"

He didn't glance at the forms. "Why should I finance your parents' medical bills? Read the prenup. Your family's debts are not my problem."

"They're your parents!" My voice cracked. "They came back to surprise you! Jasmine humiliated them until your mother's heart gave out!"

I pointed at his mistress. "Are you going to watch them die because of her?"

Anthony blinked. A flicker of panic crossed his face. He reached for the papers.

Jasmine's hand shot out, catching his wrist. "She's lying, Tony. Those two old beggars tried to scam us for a free meal. How could they be your noble parents?"

She glared at me. "Darling, don't be fooled."

The doubt in Anthony's eyes vanished. He withdrew his hand.

"If you claim they're my parents, I'll see for myself."

"They're in the ICU!" I cried. "You can't waltz in! Just call them!"

"Where is the family of Ms. Zoe Larson?"

The nurse's shout cut through like a blade.

Zoe Larson. His mother's name.

Anthony's expression shattered. He snatched the papers, scanning until his eyes landed on the patient's name.

"Zoe Larson..." he whispered. "These really have my parents' names..."

"Tony, no!" Jasmine dug her nails into his arm. "It's a trick! This bitch knows your mother's name. She put it on the forms to scare you into paying!"

The nurse rushed up to me. "You're Ms. Larson's daughter, correct? We need ECMO immediately. It's her only chance. Come pay now!"

I had no time for dignity.

I dropped to my knees on the cold tiles.

"Husband, please." Tears spilled over. "That's your mother inside. I'm begging you. Save her."

In three years, I had never bowed to him. Never begged.

Anthony looked down, conflict warring in his gaze. The papers shook in his hand. He opened his mouth—

Jasmine let out a sharp wail and clutched her head.