Our anniversary. Brandon, my husband, cleared his schedule. He was taking me on a trip. We were just about to board the plane when he suddenly got a call. His mom was sick. “Babe, I’m so sorry. My mom’s not feeling well, I need to go back and check on her. I can’t go with you this time.” I felt a pang of disappointment, but his mom’s health was more important. I agreed. After he left, I tore up my ticket. I was heading back to check on my mother-in-law, who’d been dead for three months. What new ‘discomfort’ was she experiencing now? I followed his car all the way to our front door. I didn’t rush out. Instead, I pulled out my phone. And there it was: The nanny’s daughter, flaunting on SnapChat. [Your generous favoritism is the best 21st birthday gift!] The picture showed her in a white chiffon dress, nestled in a man’s arms. That man? My ‘dutiful’ husband. I flexed my wrists, then pushed open the front door. The instant I stepped into the foyer, I saw a dozen guys and girls were already crammed into the huge living room. Balloons strung across the walls. A group started chanting: “Kiss! Kiss!” “Kiss! Kiss!” … I don’t know how many times they chanted it, but then Brandon wrapped his arm around Tiffany’s waist and laid a deep French kiss on her. The crowd erupted. When they finally broke apart, Brandon lingered, tracing Tiffany’s lips, only to look up and see me, somehow having squeezed to the front of the crowd. His eyes went wide with terror. He instinctively tried to push Tiffany away. But I was faster. I raised my hand and landed two sharp slaps across his face. The sudden silence in the room was deafening. Tiffany spun around, saw me, and shrieked, scrambling behind Brandon, clutching his arm. I watched him, a cold smile playing on my lips. “When exactly did you get yourself a new mother?” Brandon’s eyes darted frantically, desperate to explain, when a short-haired girl shoved me. “Who are *you*? Barging into someone’s house and hitting people? Are you insane? Apologize to Tiffany’s boyfriend, *now*!” Her words opened the floodgates. Others chimed in: “Hitting people randomly like that? What gives you the right? An apology is the least of it, she should be reported to the police.” “I agree. The police should check if she has a record. She can hit someone now, who knows what she’ll do next?” “How did a lunatic crash such a nice birthday party? And daring to hit people? Do you even know who you just hit?” I gave a sweet smile to the people talking, then turned back to Brandon. “Do *you* also think I shouldn’t have hit you?” Brandon licked his lips, about to speak, but Tiffany tugged his sleeve, shaking her head subtly. I saw all their little maneuvers. I truly wanted to see what kind of game they were playing. Brandon glared at me, his face contorted in anger. “Ashley, what drama are you pulling *now*? It’s Tiffany’s birthday. Whatever you have to say, say it later. Don’t make a scene and ruin Tiffany’s birthday. Just get out!” He was clearly afraid his side chick would lose face in front of his friends. I scoffed, my gaze cool and indifferent. “Brandon, where exactly do you want me to ‘get out’ to? Or are you just afraid someone might find out about your little dirty secrets?” The next second, Tiffany began to quietly sob. “Sister Ashley, I know you’ve always had a crush on Brandon, and it upsets you to see him with me. But feelings have to be mutual, and Brandon loves me. We’ve been together for two years. He promised to marry me after I graduate. I beg you, please stop clinging to him.” Brandon hadn’t expected Tiffany to say that. His face cycled through different emotions, stealing glances at me from the corner of his eye. Tiffany’s words stunned me. Brandon and I had been married for only two years and one month. They’d been together for two years. That meant he cheated on me just one month after we got married. And he brought Tiffany and her mother into our house under the guise of hiring a nanny. I’d been played for a fool for two whole years. The short-haired girl spoke again. “Oh, I get it! You’re the nanny from Tiffany’s house who has a crush on her boyfriend! I can’t believe how shameless you are, trying to steal someone’s boyfriend in public!” I was inexplicably labeled ‘the nanny.’ That really made me laugh. “Tiffany, still living in a fantasy world? Who do you think you are, to have *me* as your nanny?”
The words were barely out of my mouth when a splash of alcohol hit my face. Chelsea, holding the glass, smirked triumphantly. “I think *you’re* the one who needs a reality check! We all know who Tiffany is. Her mom runs a huge enterprise, and her boyfriend is a company CEO. This whole villa belongs to *her*. As for you, tsk, tsk, look at the cheap rags you’re wearing, no brand at all. You’re only fit for cleaning and serving others, a low-class job.” Cheap rags? My clothes didn’t have brands because they were all custom-designed by a renowned haute couture artist. Other girls behind her also started defending Tiffany. “Exactly! Why don’t you hurry up and apologize to Tiffany, or you’ll lose even this job.” Then, a guy spoke up, his tone flippant. “Hey, lady, why don’t you look at yourself? How old are you, still trying to snatch a guy from our goddess Tiffany? If you’re so desperate for a man, I could help you out. I’ve never tried a thirty-something woman before. Is two hundred a night enough?” The others burst into laughter. I wiped the alcohol from my face, my eyes fixed on Brandon as I spoke slowly. “Brandon, I’m your wife. Are you just going to stand there and watch them insult me, help your side chick do this? I’m telling you, you’re going to regret this!” Brandon’s face was utterly cold. “Tiffany is my girlfriend. This is all your own fault.” His words were deliberately ambiguous. Seeing so many of her friends backing her, and Brandon standing by her side, Tiffany straightened up, her voice growing bolder. “Sister Ashley, I call you ‘sister’ because you’re older than me, but don’t forget your place. You can cause a scene whenever you want, even today, if you want to embarrass me, fine. But Brandon is a man, and with so many people watching, how could you slap a CEO of a major corporation in public? Did you even think about his feelings?” She then turned to Brandon, her voice softening. “Brandon, even though I’m young, I know how to stand by my man, to make sure you look good in public, unlike Sister Ashley…” Her words were a masterclass in manipulation, playing directly into his ego and pathetic insecurities. I scoffed. “You know, I almost forgot. I only slapped *him*, not *you*!” The next second, I grabbed her hair and landed two brutal slaps across her pale cheek. Tiffany shrieked and burst into tears, clutching her face. “Ashley, you dare hit me? I’ll make you pay for this!” “Still yapping?” I raised my hand to hit her again, but Brandon caught my wrist, pushing hard. His strength sent me stumbling backward, knocking over a champagne tower. I fell to the ground, my hand landing on shattered glass. Brandon didn’t even look at me. Instead, he pulled Tiffany into his arms and snapped, “Ashley, apologize to Tiffany!” I stared at my bleeding palm. I bit back the pain, slowly pulling out the glass shards. Two years of marriage, just like these glass fragments in my hand, piercing and hurting me. Tiffany, nestled in his arms, smirked triumphantly at me. The pain in my palm made my voice drop several degrees. “Brandon, in *my* home, you throw a birthday party for your side chick, you openly cheat on me right in front of my face, and then you tell *me* to apologize to her? Are you out of your mind? Or do you just think I’m a pushover, Ashley? Don’t forget, I’m your *legal wife*. I can dress you in designer labels and shower you with luxuries, and I can just as easily strip you bare and leave you with nothing!”
My words made Brandon’s eyes flicker. But Tiffany spoke first. “Sister Ashley, Brandon worked hard and has an exceptional mind to grow his company this big. He achieved financial freedom through his own ability. Don’t act like you helped him that much.” I paused, taken aback. Exceptional mind? Ability? Financial freedom? He couldn’t even grasp the basics of a business plan, how did *he* suddenly become a genius? When he first started his business, I gave him a million dollars from my family. Then I got a few multi-million dollar projects from my dad for him to work on. To avoid hurting his ego, even the core department heads of his company were managers I pulled straight from my father’s company. He was the only one who swelled with pride, convinced he was a talent, wondering why elite professionals from various fields would join his fledgling little company – he believed it was because they saw his capability. If I hadn’t been pulling the strings behind the scenes, how could he have transformed a small startup into a major company on the verge of going public in just two short years? Other friends who overheard our conversation started whispering. “That woman just said this is *her* house, and Tiffany is the side chick. Do you think she’s telling the truth?” “I think it’s possible. I always said Tiffany’s boyfriend is so much older than her, maybe she got scammed!” “But, Tiffany’s boyfriend is protecting her so much. If it were a real wife catching a side chick, the cheating guy wouldn’t dare act like this, right?” “Grab your popcorn, let’s see how this plays out.” Chelsea couldn’t stand it anymore. She shouted, “Stop guessing wildly! This *is* Tiffany’s house. I’ve been here many times. I’ve personally seen Tiffany and her boyfriend sleep in the master bedroom, and I’ve met her mother – *that’s* a true socialite!” My heart sank. The thought of them rolling around on *my* bed made me sick to my stomach. Tiffany twirled the diamond ring on her finger and spoke again. “This is *my* house. Everyone here can testify. I think *you’re* the one who should leave. Brandon, I don’t want to see her. Can you make her leave?” Brandon nodded. “This is your home. Whatever makes you happy, Tiffany.” Chelsea yanked my hair and started dragging me out. “Lady, you need to know your place. Who openly tries to steal someone else’s boyfriend like this? You’re so pathetic.” Then, she yelled to the others, “Do you guys want to see what this bitch looks like stripped bare? It’ll really get justice for Tiffany!” My pupils contracted. I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest. Some of the guys couldn’t hold back. They reached out and started tearing at my clothes. I struggled with all my might, screaming Brandon’s name, hoping he would stop them, save me. Brandon frowned, about to raise his hand to intervene, but Tiffany pulled him back. “Brandon, don’t worry. My friends know what they’re doing. They just want to stand up for me. Besides, this way, won’t you have more leverage over her?” Brandon looked enlightened, pinching her cheek. Both of them watched as my clothes were torn, leaving me exposed. “Let go of me! This is illegal!” Chelsea raised her hand and slapped me. “We’re just getting rid of pests for the people! Besides, you love stealing men, right? We have so many guys here, you should be happy!” As her words fell, I felt countless hands on me… Just as despair washed over me, a voice echoed from the doorway. “How’s my little princess’s birthday going? Mommy’s gift has arrived.”
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