After Being Mistaken for A Mistress by My Ex-husband's Girlfriend

From the chatter of the parents around me, I heard that all the students in the class had been taken to the office by the head teacher.

That was why the head teacher hadn't shown up yet.

She was already overwhelmed with managing those kids.

Now, there was no one to vouch for me.

I didn't even have papers with me either.

I was sweating with anxiety, but Reva didn't give me a moment to think.

With just a glance, her group of friends started smashing things in the classroom.

Their wild, out-of-control behavior forced the spectating parents to leave the room.

Reva pointed the live stream camera around the classroom, showing the desks and chairs scattered on the floor, and the white paint chipped off the walls.

In just five minutes, the intact classroom was a mess.

The blackboards at the front and back were splashed with red paint, looking eerily terrifying.

Seeing this, she laughed even more wildly and recklessly.

Facing the camera, she said, "This old hag said she would attend my son's parent-teacher meeting for me. Today, I'm giving her a memorable meeting."

I couldn't help but speak up to stop her. "You'll regret this when Cole comes.

"You don't know what you're doing. When the truth comes out, you'll be the one who's really finished."

She clutched her chest, her expression exaggerated.

"Everyone, this mistress is threatening me. I'm so scared. She stole my man and now she wants to walk all over me," she said.

With that, she stepped forward, grabbed her bag, and hit me on the head again.

Under a few heavy blows, my head was shaking so much I couldn't think straight.

The dull pain made me see stars.

She stormed out in her high heels.

Outside, more and more parents gathered. Even people from the neighboring classrooms were drawn over. Many people had their phones out, pointing at my face and recording.

My weak cries for help were drowned out by the insults.

I couldn't even get up to grab my phone and call the police.

I struggled to prop myself up, and as soon as I touched the edge of my phone, I felt a heavy blow to my back.

Reva stood in front of me with an angry face.

She was holding a mop with a disgusting yellow stain on it.

"Run? Where do you think you're going to run?" she said.

"The only one leaving this place on their feet today is me."

I was beaten to the ground, my gaze falling on the crowd of onlookers outside the window.

Everyone was cheering for Reva.

I had become the target of accusations.

The large classroom had no place left to stand.

Her friend walked up and kicked me hard.

My body felt like a pile of weak, powerless flesh.

"This is too easy on her. She wanted a parent-teacher meeting, right? Let's give her a chance."

In Reva's bloodthirsty, excited gaze, she said, "Drag her to the broadcast room and make her confess to the whole school that she's a homewrecker."

I looked at her in horror, shaking my head desperately.

Two girls grabbed me from under my armpits and lifted me.

My lower body was dragged along the ground, my skirt gradually tearing and exposing the flesh-colored fabric underneath.

As I struggled, the car keys fell out of my pocket.

Reva's eyes instantly turned bloodshot.

She angrily picked up the keys and threw them hard at my face.

The key ring stabbed into my eye, instantly turning it red.

"This is my husband's car, isn't it? I saw the vehicle information on his phone. You have quite the appetite, don't you?" she snarled.

But it was just part of the property divided during the divorce.

Reva was beyond listening to any explanations.

Her gaze grew more and more sinister.

A parent watching the drama spoke up.

"Is it the car downstairs? I think I saw her get out of it. She even drove the car straight in, not afraid of hitting a child. This kind of person is heartless," she said.

As soon as she finished speaking, Reva rushed to the railing and looked down.