My Husband Despise Me, His Boss Wants Me.

Genevieve's point of view.

"Hey, thief, take it off! That's my mother's favorite gold necklace!" my stepson, Kelvin, yelled, making everyone in the Grand Hall whip their heads toward us.

"Kelvin, this is not—"

"Haven’t you had enough? You killed my mother and married her husband. Isn’t that enough? Why are you stealing her things too? Do you really want to be like my mother so much?"

I shook my head desperately. "I'm not trying to be like her."

Kelvin scoffed.

"Don’t think you can replace my mother because you successfully killed her. My father and I hate you. You should leave our family before it's too late!"

Murmurs erupted in the crowd as everyone was pointing fingers at me.

"How dare she try to take her sister’s place?"

"What if she killed her sister just to marry her husband?"

"Is she planning on killing the boy too? Is that why the boy hates her?"

"How desperate can she be?"

My eyes searched the crowd, looking for my husband. I finally found him, and I waited for him to say something... anything in my defense. But I was just daydreaming—he would never defend me.

"Her mother would be so ashamed to have a murderer as a daughter," a woman in the crowd said.

Humiliation consumed me. With tears brimming in my eyes, I ran out.

>>>>>

Reaching my room, I slammed the door behind me and collapsed on my bed as I unleashed my tears.

Everyone thinks I killed my sister, but that's far from the truth.

My stepsister and I were on a trip together, then we met with an accident, and she gave up her only chance of survival for me and her son—he was seven at that time.

Kelvin was too young to be motherless. My stepfather and mother begged me to marry Fred, my stepsister's husband, so that I could legally take care of Kelvin until he turned fourteen. But Kelvin thought I killed his mother to marry his father.

Like father, like son—Fred also hates and blames me for the death of his wife and therefore takes out his frustrations on me.

I reached for my phone and dialed my mother’s number. "Mom," I cried into the phone.

"Oh, honey, why are you crying? What’s wrong?" she asked.

"I'm done, Mom."

"You're done with what?"

"Kelvin, he..." I choked on my words. "I'm getting a divorce tomorrow."

I heard her gasp quietly. "You can't. Kelvin is still young, he can't—"

"He's fourteen, Mom," I cut her off. "He's no longer a baby anymore. I've done the best I can and..."

I was startled as my door burst open, and Kelvin barged in with a sinister smile.

"Why are you hiding here? Don’t want the world to know you're a snake?"

"I've got to go," I whispered to my mom and hung up.

I wore a weak smile as I faced him. "Kelvin, you shouldn't ruin your father's event simply because you want to tarnish my reputation," I told him nicely.

"Shut up!" He charged toward me and punched me in the face.

My hand flew to my lips as I felt blood dripping onto my lap.

I was stunned that he resorted to violence at a simple correction. Back in the hall, his father was hosting a welcome party for the new Mafia Lord. Bringing up our family issues might affect his father badly—but who am I to care if neither of them doesn't care?

"You think I'll sit back and watch you parade in my mother's glory? In your dreams!" He leaned closer to my ear. "I've told you before, I’ll keep making your life a living hell until you leave!"

His eyes held so much hatred and disdain. How can he be so ungrateful? I spent half of my youth bringing him up, trying to be a loving mother to him.

"I'll leave tomorrow," I said, jumping out of the bed and heading out, but my legs froze at what I saw outside my door.

My legs wobbled, and I fell to my knees. On a box was a dead cat—my cat.

My late father gave me the cat on his deathbed. He told me the cat would keep me company while he's gone, and now the cat is gone too.

"Do you like my little surprise?" Kelvin asked, his sinister smile not leaving his face.

Anger pumped through my veins. I sprang up at once and pushed him away from my cat.

"Why did you do that?!" I screamed in his face.

He looked surprised, since this was the first time I had raised my voice at him, but before he could react, a hand shoved me hard and I fell down, my head banging on the wall behind me.

"What is wrong with you?" Fred growled at me. "Is this how you manhandle my son when I’m not around?"

His eyes shot toward my cat. "It’s just a cat. You shouldn’t make a fuss about it!"

I stared at him speechlessly. It's just a cat to them—but it’s my father's promise to me. I’ve had enough. This can’t continue.

"Go throw it away and—"

"Let’s get a divorce, Fred!" I cut him off.