Mistaken Identity: My Fury Unleashed

My mind was ringing.

The invading women took turns lecturing me, using kitchen utensils as their pointers.

I clutched my head, protecting myself, "I have no idea what you're on about! Emily, look at me—do you even recognize who I am?!"

Emily scoffed and slapped me, "You know my name yet you chase after my man? You like the thrill, is that it?"

They took turns hitting and kicking me.

"Still pretending? Trying to trap a man with those looks? You tramp! Like your life depends on it!"

"You were raised with no manners, so we're here to give you the lesson you missed!"

I struggled but couldn't break free.

Hearing a familiar voice from next door, I screamed for help.

They only laughed harder.

Dragging me by the hair, they paraded me in front of the neighbors, "This woman here, a known mistress. Shame on anyone living near her!"

The neighbors quickly retreated, holding their noses.

Emboldened by the recognition, the women's laughter grew even wilder.

They pulled me back inside, and Emily noticed the engagement ring on my finger.

Her eyes widened, "Married and still on the prowl? Typical mistress behavior!"

The crowd egged her on, "In the old days, we'd have drowned someone like you!"

"Utterly lawless, with no respect for decency!"

"What, your man isn't enough for you? Looking for more, are you?"

The woman filming taunted, "If it weren't for homewreckers like you, our husbands would be home where they belong!"

The online crowd cheered on, relishing the drama, itching to reach through the screen.

Emily looked around, satisfied with the support.

Clapping her hands, she called, "Mrs. Johnson, bring the prop!"

Someone stepped forward with a chair.

Its seat was covered in spikes!

Emily's smirk grew as she saw me shudder, "Lucky for you, we're not in medieval times, or it'd be the dunking stool for you!"

They pushed me toward the spiked chair.

Terrified, I shouted, "Emily! Do you realize what you're doing? Look at me—I'm Chris' sister!"

"Sister? Ha!"

She kicked me, her tone cutting, "Blood sister? Or just playing 'sister'?"

Looking down at me, she added mockingly, "I almost forgot!"

"Sending those messages to my fiancé, calling you 'sister'—do you role-play that in bed too?"