At the class reunion, my boyfriend's mom suddenly burst in, flanked by a crowd. Waving a photo, she screamed that I was a home-wrecker. The picture was taken at my birthday party, showing my dad's colleague handing me a gift. She stood on a chair, pointing at me, her voice shrill with fury: "This woman is a shameless tramp, a family-wrecker!" With that, she hoisted a chair and hurled it straight at me. I winced, enduring the pain, and tried to explain: "You've got the wrong person! I'm your son's girlfriend!" Her fury only seemed to swell. She slapped me harder. "You trash! Trying to claim kinship with me? Pah! My son and his girlfriend are childhood sweethearts! What in hell are you?" I lowered my gaze, shielding the ice in my eyes. 1 "Riley, that dress must've cost a fortune!" At the class reunion, Skylar's eyes gleamed as she stared at me. I smiled faintly. "My dad got it for me for my birthday." "Balenciaga's new collection? Riley, since when did your family hit the jackpot?" Brittany, my long-time rival across the table, sniped, her voice laced with venom. We'd been at odds since high school, and I usually just ignored her. But she kept digging, her words sharp and cruel: "You didn't, like, land yourself a sugar daddy, did you?" Her words spiraled into absurdity. Just as I was about to shut her down, the private room door burst open. A furious voice ripped through the air: "You shameless harlot! How dare you seduce my husband!" A woman in her thirties stormed in, flanked by a small entourage. The man behind her glanced at a photo, then pointed at me. "Brenda, that's her." "You filthy tramp, I'm going to beat you to death today! Get her!" Before I could even react, her hand connected with my cheek, a searing slap. Then a kick to my stomach sent me sprawling to the floor. I clenched my jaw, enduring the pain, and choked out, "You've got the wrong person! I don't even know your husband!" She grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. "Oh, I haven't got the wrong person! Your trashy face, I'd recognize it even if it were dust!" As I finally saw her face clearly, a flicker of familiarity sparked, but I couldn't place where I'd seen her before. "Open your damn eyes and look! Isn't that you, you piece of trash, in this photo?" 2 The photo was from my birthday. My dad had invited a group of people to celebrate with me. It showed Mr. Harrison, my dad's colleague, placing a sapphire necklace in my hand, my face alight with a happy smile as I admired it. "You're all this harlot's classmates, right? Take a look! Isn't this her in the photo?" She thrust the photo towards the classmates huddled in the corner, gawking. Brittany took one look and dramatically gasped: "Oh my god, that is Riley in the picture! I can't believe she's like this! How shameless! Hooking up with a married man! She used to flirt with other guys even in high school. No wonder she's always decked out in designer clothes. I always suspected she was a mistress!" "Mistresses deserve to die! Ma'am, go ahead and hit her! We won't lift a finger to help her!" Skylar declared, puffed up with righteous indignation. The others quickly chimed in, echoing her words. "Hear that, you filthy tramp? Don't play innocent!" Brenda snarled, then commanded, "Beat her!" Immediately, her posse swarmed me, raining down punches and kicks. Some even found sticks, brutalizing me. I curled into a ball on the floor, the pain so intense I wanted to scream for help. But I saw the faces of my classmates, warped with schadenfreude, standing by. My heart turned to ice. I couldn't believe they were just watching, doing nothing. In high school, I'd always kept a low profile. No one knew I was the heiress to ApexCorp. They just thought my family was average. It had saved me a lot of hassle, so I never bothered to correct them. But now, it was causing me serious trouble. 3 "You're mistaken," I gasped, pain lancing through me. "He's my father's friend. That was my birthday party." "You damned harlot! You finally admit it! Beat her to death!" Brenda seemed to go berserk, utterly deaf to my explanations. Punches rained down on my head and body like a relentless storm. My throat constricted, and then I coughed up a mouthful of blood. "Stop if you know what's good for you! My dad is the CEO of ApexCorp!" Revealing my identity was the only way to make her stop now. But she just acted crazier, clawing at my throat and sneering: "Trying to scare me? Who in this room would believe that garbage? You shameless seducer! You deserve this. You classless, unhinged piece of trash!" At that, something snapped inside me. I couldn't take it anymore. I fought back, lunging for her hair and pulling with all my might. She seemed shocked by my resistance. Her eyes blazing red, she shrieked at her cronies: "Get this trashy harlot off me!" I clung on, refusing to let go. Seeing this, one of her goons grabbed a nearby stool and smashed it down on my arm. A searing pain ripped through me, my arm felt like it had snapped. I curled into a ball on the floor, trembling with agony, fear gripping my heart as I stared at my mangled limb. I was an artist. My right hand was everything. Brenda kicked me again and again, like a maniac. "You trashy harlot, still fighting back? Strip her!" A few of them lunged forward, clawing at my clothes. I clutched my clothes tight, trying to hold them together despite the pain. "Hey, sis, mind if I go live and show everyone this home-wrecker's true colors?" Brittany asked, a gleam of cruel delight in her eyes as she looked down at me. "Go for it," Brenda casually agreed, glancing at me. "Good for everyone to see what happens to a mistress." Her eyes suddenly went wild again, and she lunged, her hands clamping around my throat. "He never gave me a gift like that. But he gave it to you?" I was close to suffocating, my vision blurring. I fumbled in my pocket, found my phone, and pressed the power button five times, sending a distress signal to my dad. Meanwhile, Brittany, her voice sickeningly sweet, aimed her phone's camera right at me. "Hey, fan fam! Today, I'm bringing you a live broadcast of my high school classmate getting caught red-handed as a home-wrecker!" Instantly, Brittany's livestream viewership soared into the tens of thousands. "Wow, so juicy!" "How can that woman be so shameless, ruining someone else's family?" "She looks like she's selling herself, probably trash through and through." "Go, Queen! Beat that filthy tramp to death!" The comments section exploded, people furiously cursing me. Brittany watched her follower count skyrocket, her eyes gleaming with unconcealed excitement and thrill. 4 Brenda pulled a pair of scissors from her bag, her lips curling into a slow, chilling smile as she stared at me. "Since you're so shameless," she purred, "I'll just shred your clothes off and throw you out onto the street, stark naked." Horror seized me. I never imagined she could be so vicious. As her scissors lunged towards me, a sudden realization hit: I knew where I'd seen her before. My boyfriend had once shown me a picture of his mom. The woman in front of me was identical to the one in the photo. A surge of desperate hope filled me. "Auntie," I blurted, "I'm Riley! Your son's girlfriend!" She burst into maniacal laughter, as if I'd told the funniest joke. "You filthy tramp! Seducing my husband wasn't enough, now you're after my son too? You shameless hussy!" Her face twisted into a grotesque smile, and she started cutting at my top with the scissors. I writhed in pain, still trying to explain: "Your son's name is Ethan! Call him if you don't believe me!" She hesitated for a moment, then her eyes glazed over with renewed madness. "My son would never like trash like you! He's had a girlfriend for ages! Chloe grew up with him! And you still want to break up my son's relationship? I'm going to teach you a lesson today!" I froze. Ethan and I had been together for three years. How could he have betrayed me? She frantically snipped away at my clothes. My top was in shreds, exposing large patches of skin. I frantically crossed my arms over my chest. In Brittany's livestream, people were cheering and clapping. "Queen's so fierce!" "Mistresses deserve a lesson! Serves her right!" "Exactly! And she even tried to seduce the son!" I looked at the cluster of former classmates standing in the corner. Their faces were a mask of morbid curiosity, enjoying the show. My heart felt heavy with dread, but I still begged them to call the police. Not one of them moved. I pleaded again with the woman looming over me: "Auntie, I really am Ethan's girlfriend. Just call him, please! You'll see! Ethan told me about you..." She hesitated, then finally dialed Ethan's number. It rang twice, then someone picked up. "Mom, what's up?" Ethan's voice echoed through the phone. I wanted to scream, to call out to him, to beg him to save me. But as I opened my mouth, a hand clamped over it. "Son, tell me, are you dating anyone?" "Mom, you know that already, don't you? Chloe and I have been together for five years." At his words, she shot me a smug, triumphant look. 5 I felt a sudden, profound chill. He had betrayed me. All along. "Mom, Chloe's actually right here with me." "Hi, Auntie! I was just dropping off some beef jerky my mom made for you." A soft, cheerful female voice chirped from the other end of the line. My heart shattered into a million icy pieces. "Chloe, honey, I'll be home in a bit. If that boy gives you any trouble, you tell Auntie, okay?" The call ended. Brenda's eyes, full of malice, locked onto me, and she raised the scissors again. "You trash! Still lying? This time, I'm going to slash your face. Let's see you try to seduce anyone then! Hold her down!" I thrashed wildly, pure terror seizing my core. In my struggle, she suddenly caught sight of the bracelet on my wrist. Her eyes widened, and she started slashing wildly with the scissors. "Slut! Slut! That bracelet on your wrist, was he the one who bought it for you too?" With a yank, she ripped it off my wrist. I tried to stop her. "That was my mom's! Give it back!" But Brenda glared at me, her face a mask of viciousness. "You trash! Still daring to lie? I'll teach you a lesson!" She flung the bracelet to the floor in a fit of rage, then stomped on it, crushing it under her heel. I watched the pieces scatter, my heart aching with an unbearable pain. It was the last thing my mother had left me. Brenda dragged me out onto the street, then leaned down, her lips brushing my ear. "Say you're a shameless hussy, that you deserve to die, and I might let you off. Otherwise, I'll strip you bare." Brittany followed close behind, her camera still trained on me. The street wasn't too crowded yet, but passersby stopped, drawn by the commotion, their eyes fixed on us. I was forced to my knees, made to look like I was begging for forgiveness. I had no choice. Choking back my humiliation and tears, I did as she demanded. "I'm sorry," I choked out, "I shouldn't have ruined someone's family." A wave of disgusted stares washed over me. I thought I was free. But Brenda's voice, slow and sinister, cut through the air: "I only said I wouldn't strip you. I never said anything about not slashing your face! Ha ha ha ha ha!" She was a lunatic. She lunged, the scissors arcing towards my face. A searing pain ripped across my face. In an instant, blood and tears blurred my entire vision. I was at my breaking point, on the verge of blacking out, when I heard it – my dad's voice, as if from a dream. "Riley, Dad's here."
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