Golden Cage Mommy Mutiny (Elyse) novel Chapter 92

“What you’re doing is illegal,” I snapped. “It’s a violation of my privacy rights. We paid over a hundred dollars–your system can prove it!”

I paused, my eyes sharp as blades as I shot Tiffany a warning glare.

“This place is going down–and it’ll be your fault.”

She didn’t hesitate. With a wild swing, she slapped me hard across the face, snarling through gritted teeth.

“Bitch! Who the hell do you think you are, threatening me? This diner’s been around fifty years- run by my husband! You think you’re someone special? I was being nice to you, and now you’ve pushed your luck!”

Growing up, no one had ever dared to lay a finger on me. I came from a powerful family and had been trained in self–defense, boxing, and wrestling Anyone who knew me knew better than to

cross that line.

So I didn’t hesitate either.

I raised my hand and cracked two crisp slaps across her face.

“You think I owe you respect? I was being civil, but clearly, you don’t deserve it!”

“You want a livestream? You want the whole world to see? Go ahead. Let’s see who ends up disgraced when this all comes crashing down.”

Red handprints bloomed across Tiffany’s cheeks. She froze for a moment–then screamed like a banshee, completely losing it.

“Ahhhh!”

She turned to her army of relatives disguised as employees.

“What are you all standing there for? Are you blind You didn’t see her attack me?! Do something!”

Like flipping a switch, they charged at me like frenzied wolves.

But I was ready.

One came close–down she went with a punch. Another lunged- kicked her square in the gut. They fell one after another.

They weren’t fighters. They were loudmouths. And after a few hits, the fear started showing in their

eyes.

Tiffany stood there, panting furiously. “So that’s why you’re so cocky. You actually know how to

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fight.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “You came into my restaurant, ate for free, and now you’re attacking my

staff? You’ll pay for this.”

She turned to one side. “Call the cops. Tell them someone dined and dashed, and assaulted multiple

employees.”

Then to the other: “Go to the kitchen. Bring out the big guys–get me Joe and Tank!”

People in the diner began whispering, unsure what to believe. One of them turned to me.

“Look, even if you don’t care about your own reputation, think about those kids. Just pay her a little

extra and move on.”

Tiffany smirked triumphantly. “Too late for that. If she’d just paid earlier, maybe. But now?”

“This isn’t just a misunderstanding. This is theft. My rule is, if you steal a meal–you pay a hundred

times the price.”

“And with how much she ‘ate‘ and how many employees she assaulted? That’s at least fifty grand in

damages.”

Just then, several men stomped out of the kitchen. They were built like bouncers, two of them

easily over 300 pounds.

Tiffany pointed at me like she was issuing a royal decree. “Take care of that bitch!”

The men advanced, cracking their knuckles. I reached into my bag, yanked out my pepper spray,

and blasted them right in the eyes.

They yelped, stumbling back, eyes burning and hands flailing.

While I was dealing with them, Tiffany suddenly lunged forward, grabbed my seven–year–old nephew Ethan by the collar, and forced him to the floor.

“You little bastard,” she hissed. “No manners, no shame. Think you can come in here and eat for

free?!”

Ethan was stunned. He’d always been a quiet, sensitive kid–especially after losing his parents two

years ago. This kind of trauma would scar him.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he whispered, voice shaking.

“I won’t come again… I promise.”

His words tore straight through me.

And that moment of distraction was all it took–one of the massive men barreled into me and

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slammed me to the ground.

The cold, greasy tile met my face as others piled on, pinning down my arms and legs with their full weight. The pain radiated through every limb, bone–deep and paralyzing.

They weren’t holding back. They were out for blood.

Ethan saw me pinned, panic taking over. He burst into tears, turning to Tiffany and begging.

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