Two years of marriage felt like glass splinters in my hand. Amyra Herrera, snuggled into Patrick Garcia’s arms, shot me a smug grin.
The pain cooled my voice, sharpening it: "Patrick, you're celebrating your mistress's birthday in my home and blatantly cheating right in front of me. You're even demanding that I apologize to her. Have you lost your mind or do you think Reagan Kim is easy to push around? Remember, I am your legal wife. I can wrap you in luxury or leave you penniless in a heartbeat!"
My words visibly unsettled Patrick, but Amyra quickly cut in, "Reagan, Patrick built up his company through his own hard work and brilliance. He achieved financial independence himself. Don't act like you were such a big help."
I paused, brilliance? Skill? Financial independence? He couldn't even handle a basic business proposal, so where's this genius coming from?
When he wanted to launch a business, I withdrew a million dollars from my family’s funds for him and secured several million-dollar projects from my father’s company. To maintain his confidence, I even brought in senior directors from my father's company to guide his core departments. He basked in the illusion that his talent attracted elite professionals to his fledgling company. Without my influence, how could he possibly transform a small startup into a company nearing an IPO in just two years?
Our exchange sparked whispers from the onlookers.
"That woman claims this is her home, and Amyra is the other woman. Could she be telling the truth?"
"I think it's possible. That woman's age seems close to Amyra’s boyfriend's. I’ve always wondered why Amyra’s boyfriend was so much older; she might be getting duped!"
"But look at how her boyfriend protects her. If she were the wife catching the mistress, a cheating man wouldn’t dare act like this."
"Grab your popcorn, folks, this is about to get interesting."
Treasure Powell couldn't resist jumping in, "Stop speculating! This is Amyra’s home; I’ve been here multiple times. I’ve personally seen Amyra and her boyfriend in the master bedroom. Her mom—now she is a real lady!"
I felt sick thinking about them in my bed. Amyra fiddled with the diamond ring on her finger and added, "This is my home, and everyone here can vouch for that. You need to leave, Reagan. Patrick, I don’t want her here. Can you make her go?"
Patrick nodded, "As long as Amyra is happy, this is your home." Treasure grabbed my hair and started dragging me out.
"Lady, have some self-awareness. How can you openly steal someone’s boyfriend and still act so shamelessly? Who wants to see this woman taught a lesson for Amyra?"
I shielded my chest, panic flooding my eyes. Some of the young men couldn’t resist and began tearing at my clothes. I struggled fiercely, shouting at Patrick, hoping he would stop them.
Patrick hesitated, his brows furrowed, but Amyra held him back. "Patrick, don’t worry. My friends know their limits. They just want to stand up for me. And besides, this lets you control her even better, doesn’t it?"
Patrick pinched her cheek, amused by my struggle. “Let me go, this is illegal!”
Treasure slapped me hard, "This is for justice. Aren’t you the one who likes to snatch men? Enjoy having all these guys here."
As her words rang out, I felt countless hands on me. Just as despair set in, a voice emerged from the entrance.
"How’s the birthday going, darling? Your mom’s gift has arrived."
Elliana Wheeler, dressed in a dark green Victorian-style dress and carrying an exquisite box, stepped in, dazzlingly bejeweled. She screamed at the sight before her.
“What are you all doing?”
Treasure quickly complained to Elliana, "Aunt Wheeler, you just stepped out for a moment, and someone barged in, causing trouble and hit Amyra."
Elliana saw my face and turned ghostly pale, her lips quivering and her gaze nervously avoiding mine.
Amyra responded, "Mom, I’m sure Reagan didn’t mean any harm. She was just upset seeing me with Patrick, and my friends wanted to stand up for me. Please forgive her this once."
Elliana stumbled over her words. "Well… carry on, I’ll just head upstairs."
My anger flared, my voice icy: "Elliana, you’re allowing Amyra to act recklessly. Do you really think these people can help you now, and always?"
I discreetly grasped my phone as I spoke. Elliana puffed up her chest, giving me a disdainful glance, unable to hide her unease.
"Little hussy, don’t speak nonsense. You think I’m afraid of you? Everyone knows my daughter is Patrick’s prized possession; only someone like her deserves to be with him. Women like you need a lesson. Show no mercy; I’ll back you up.”
I held back my anger, buying time.
“What can you back up? A housekeeper or a real lady?” I fixed my eyes on Patrick, “Patrick Garcia, no one who hurts me today will get away with it, and that includes you.”
Amyra charged at me, but I used all my strength to collide into her. She fell to the ground, sparking Patrick’s anger.
“Don’t go easy on her, I’ll handle the consequences!” Someone grabbed my hair, slamming me to the ground.
“If Patrick’s spoken, we don't fear anything. Let’s do what we want!”
“Get her clothes off!”
Amyra lunged at me, pinning me down, ruthlessly tearing at my clothes as I struggled to protect my skin. Just as I felt my body growing more exposed, the door burst open.
A group of cops stormed in. Amyra gasped, covering her mouth in shock. Those pinning me froze, raising their hands.
“Who called the police?” one officer demanded.
I raised my hand slowly from behind them: “I did!”
