Chapter 3
835words
"Sisters, show this slut who's boss."
The mob went completely berserk, smashing and wrecking everything in my home.
They scrawled insults on the walls with paint, smashed antiques from my shelves, and stormed my closet, shredding designer clothes.
"A slut doesn't deserve clothes!"
"Serve men naked."
Soon, the villa was in ruins, yet they acted righteous, like avenging angels.
Rachel smirked smugly, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Let's see if you dare steal my husband again."
I remained silent, while Mrs. Clark's brows furrowed deeply in distress. "Ms. Harper, you know full well how valuable all these things are! Do you really think you can afford to replace them?"
Her words made the fans pause for a moment, and they looked uncertainly at Rachel.
Rachel scoffed, "It's all Michael's stuff.Why worry?"
The fans, now reassured, dismissed Mrs. Clark's warning as nothing more than a bluff, and then resumed their rampage.
Mrs.Clark grabbed my hand, worried.I shook my head, calming her.
With this chaos, even if we didn't call the police, security would.
The house was full of cameras—none of them would escape.
Seeing that I was unfazed and not trying to stop them, they smashed things even harder.
I snorted.Let's see if you laugh when the bill comes.
They found a large box in my study's alcove.
When they opened it, they found my cherished jewelry inside.
The glittering diamonds stunned them.Rachel's eyes burned with greed and jealousy.
She grabbed a priceless necklace, snarling, "You sure spent his money freely."
I almost laughed out loud. Michael was nothing but a kept man; he had no money of his own.
Those tailored suits and luxury goods he had?
I was the one who bought them.Without my investment, he'd have vanished from the industry.
His"wealthy heir"persona only fooled these idiots.
Rachel rummaged through the box, pulling out an oil painting.
My face darkened."Don't touch that!"
My tension delighted her.Unrolling the painting, she saw my portrait and sneered, "So vain, keeping your own picture."
"But this face doesn't look natural at all. Did you use my husband's money to get plastic surgery?"
She told the fans, "Destroy everything.I've got your back."
I lunged forward to grab the painting, but she quickly dodged out of the way.
My gaze turned icy."Give it back, and I'll let everything else slide."
It was the last painting my brother made for me before he died—his final gift.
I couldn't let them ruin it.
Rachel laughed as if it were the biggest joke in the world. "You love this?"She paused."Then I'll tear it up."
4##
At Rachel's command, fans pounced like rabid dogs, pinning my arms.
The housekeeper tried to shield me but was dragged aside.
Rachel, with a cold, unhurried smile, tore the painting to shreds right before my very eyes, then threw the pieces at me, hitting my head.
My eyes blazed with fury, heart aching beyond words.
Rachel, thrilled, grabbed my chin."Look, the shameless mistress can cry!"
Fans roared with laughter.
Tears blurred my vision as I struggled to choke back my sobs. Then, in a cold, steady voice, I said, "You'll regret this."
"Threatening us at death's door?Sisters, strip her and throw her on the street."
"Let everyone see how this slut seduces men."
They tore at my clothes.I fought, but it fueled their cruelty.
As they nearly stripped me, heavy footsteps sounded outside, followed by a shout, "Police!Freeze!"
I looked up, seeing officers rush in.They subdued the rowdy fans, the lead officer pinning Rachel to the ground.
The officers subdued the rowdy fans, and the once - arrogant fans panicked.
Only Rachel, still struggling, shrieked, "Officers!We're catching a mistress!"
"Don't you know me?I'm Rachel Harper!"
The officer didn't glance at her."I don't care who you are.Cuff them."
"We're livestreaming a mistress takedown!You're siding with her?Aren't you afraid of backlash?"
Some defiant fans joined her, shouting, "Yeah!Cops protecting a mistress?Where's justice?"
Whether they were foolish or truly believed in their cause, they rallied together, acting as if they were warriors fighting for truth.
The officer frowned, snapping, "Take it up at the station!"
I wiped my tears, changed into clean clothes, and approached the officer."These people trespassed and destroyed property worth billions."
"You can have experts appraise it.I just want full compensation."
The officer nodded, leaving some to photograph the scene, then took us to the station.
Rachel, in the interrogation room, still acted like a haughty star, sneering at me."That villa's stuff is my husband's.I'm just trashing my own home.Police care about that?"
"Let me go, or I'll have my husband talk to your boss.See how you handle that."
The officer laughed, barely hiding a smirk."You say it's your husband's house. Had proof?"
Rachel glared."Bring him here."
"I bet some people will cry soon.A mistress doing shady things and acting bold—I've never seen it."
She pulled out her phone, dialed the number, and taunted me."When Michael arrives, you'll see how pathetic you are."
