Mr. Fake-Mute's Love Game Ended When I Stopped Playing the Fool novel Chapter 89

I was out cold for a day and a night. When I finally woke up, my phone was packed with messages from my parents–including a full dossier on Damien.

I sat alone in that empty hospital room, scrolling through his profile, barely able to process what I was seeing.

Damien Harrington. Heir to the Harrington empire–one of the most powerful families on the East Coast. He’d faked being some broke, dying nobody just to ness with me for Chloe’s entertainment.

pulled up the Harrington Group website. There he was in the photos–sharp suit, commanding a boardroom like he owned the world.

Then I found the press release.

licked it.

ngagement Announcement: Damien Harrington & Chloe Kensington.

he photo showed them arm in arm, staring at each other like nothing else existed. Picture–perfect couple.

typed a reply to my parents:

Don’t bother switching the engagement. I’m not interested in Damien. And I’m definitely not marrying him.”

ent.

ly chest felt like it was caving in.

lemories crashed over me–every sweet, painful moment from the past year.

im wishing on a shooting star that we’d be together forever.

im sitting by my hospital bed all night, gripping my hand like his life depended on it.

ll of it. Every last second. One big, elaborate lie.

stared at their engagement photo on my screen. Then I started laughing. Tears poured down my face.

downed a handful of painkillers, dragged myself out of bed, and checked out.

Tent straight to the bank. Withdrew every dollar I’d saved for his “treatment.”

eaded to the biggest mall in Miami, Figured I’d find a salon, get this matted, disgusting hair cut off. But the second I approached the entrance, a security guard epped in front of me.

Whoa, whoa, whoa–where do you think you’re going? This ain’t a homeless shelter. Beat it.”

e waved his baton at me like I was a stray dog.

looked down at myself–caked in dried mud from head to toe. Managed a weak smile.

urned to leave.

nd walked straight into Damien coming out of the restaurant next door.

ur eyes locked. He looked rattled.

Isabella? What are you doing here?”

ehind him, a group of polished, designer–clad people were heading toward a row of luxury cars parked at the curb.

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hapter 3

Yo, Damien–you know this chick?”

veryone turned. Stared. Mouths hanging open.

amien’s face went rigid. He covered his nose and backed up.

know her? Hell no. I don’t associate with trash.”

ire disgust flickered across his face. He snapped his fingers at the guard.

What do we pay you for? Get her out of here. Now.”

ie guard practically tripped over himself.

es, sir! Right away, Mr. Harrington!”

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