My Future Daughter-in-law Treats Me as a Mistress

As soon as I said those words, Lucinda’s grip on me loosened. She grabbed my head in shock, inspecting my face closely.

Joey, however, sneered, “You’re claiming to be my mother-in-law?”

She grabbed my chin, tilting my face back and forth, then burst into loud laughter. “This is hilarious. Of all the people to impersonate, you chose my mother-in-law? Do you think I’ve never video-called her or seen her in the news? That old woman is just over fifty but looks like she’s seventy! And you think you can fool me with this face? Even a three-year-old wouldn’t buy it!”

As soon as she finished speaking, the others joined in the laughter.

“I knew you looked familiar! So, you’re just someone who had surgery to look like that old hag!”

“That old witch has no femininity at all. What’s she doing trying to be a businesswoman? It’s disgusting!”

“If she wasn’t rich, I wouldn’t even bother sucking up to her!”

Hearing Joey and Lucinda bad-mouthing me behind my back didn’t surprise me.

People who could disregard the law and treat a stranger so brutally clearly had no morals.

I couldn’t help but regret the suffering I endured during the surgery in France.

After my husband passed away, I worked tirelessly, raising my child while building a business, leaving me no time for self-care.

By the time I reached my fifties, I looked much older than my peers.

I was well aware that the media criticized my aged appearance, often comparing me to a man with none of the soft qualities of a woman.

But like any woman, I cared about my appearance. Now that I was semi-retired, I finally had the time and money to fly to France regularly for treatments that made me look younger.

This last surgery was a significant investment. I wanted to look my best at my son’s wedding, to avoid being a source of embarrassment for him.

But now, my efforts had backfired and were the reason they didn’t believe me.

My body was growing weaker, and I knew that if I didn’t get to a hospital soon, I might lose my legs.

I forced myself to stay calm and said coldly, “Why don’t you call Hudson and have him come over? He’ll know whether or not I’m his mother.”

Hearing this, Joey paused, disbelief crossing her face. “You’re still not giving up, are you?

“Do you really think you can fool me into letting you see Hudson?” she asked, turning to the two girls behind her. “What do you think, should I make that call?”

The two girls, eyes gleaming with excitement, rushed forward and slapped me with all their strength. “Still talking back? Trash like you shouldn’t have made my sister lift a finger. I’m going to make sure you regret it!” one girl hissed.

“Want to fight back? You’re not even worth it!” the other girl chimed in.

They each hit me with all their might, and my body felt like it was falling apart. My eyes were so swollen I could barely open them, and my lips were too puffy for me to speak.

I glared at all four of them, silently vowing that if they didn’t kill me here, I’d make sure they paid dearly for this.

Seeing my defiant gaze only fueled Joey’s anger. She turned to the two girls and ordered, “Stop hitting her. Strip her clothes off. Let the whole world see what a shameless wretch she is!”

The two girls eagerly obeyed, viciously tearing at my clothes.

“Haha, serves you right for being a mistress and crossing my sister!”

Their eyes gleamed with malice as they stripped away the last shreds of my dignity.

I tried to resist, but Joey shattered my hands.

After a few minutes, I was lying motionless on the floor, completely battered and exposed.

Even though it was summer, I shivered from the cold that seemed to seep up from the floor.

The villa fell eerily silent, the only sounds were the click of a phone camera and my labored breathing.

Despair replaced my anger, and I lay there, unable to move. Joey gave me another hard kick, sneering, “Stop playing dead; this is just the beginning. If you’re so eager to be a mistress, then let’s show everyone just how low you can go.

“Don’t worry, I won’t post the video myself. I’ll let Hudson do the honors! I’ll make sure the man you’re obsessed with sees your true colors and watches as your life falls apart!”

She stuffed a filthy sock into my mouth and called Hudson.

“Honey, are you home? I’m on my way. I have a surprise for you.”

Joey’s voice was sickeningly sweet, a stark contrast to the cruelty she had just displayed.

“Sure, babe. Dress up nice; you’re meeting my mom for the first time, and I’m a bit nervous,” came my son’s gentle voice from the phone.

I tried desperately to cry out, to let him hear me, but he was too caught up in chatting with Joey about my preferences to notice anything wrong.

After hanging up, Joey slapped me hard across the face again. “Still trying to get help? Wretches like you don’t deserve any mercy!”

With that, she yanked a sack over my head and began dragging me toward the door.

They must have been trying to avoid drawing too much attention, so they threw an old, torn blanket over me.

My head was covered with a hood, making it hard to breathe, and the pain in my hands and legs was so intense that I was close to passing out.

I don’t know how long it took, but eventually, I was thrown harshly onto the ground.

Hearing the familiar footsteps of my son, I mustered the last bit of strength I had left, trying to call out for help.

But before I could say anything, Joey screamed, “Honey, she’s trying to get up and hit me!”

Immediately, my son kicked me away, then pulled Joey into his arms, comforting her softly, “Babe, are you alright? Did she scare you? We were supposed to meet each other’s parents today. Why did you bring a tramp back with you?”

Joey, feigning distress, started crying as she explained, “She said I’m not good enough for you because of my background. But that’s not even the worst part. The most infuriating thing is that she dared to insult your mother, claiming that she built her business empire by sleeping her way to the top.

“Thank goodness I heard her say it first. If the media caught wind of it, imagine how it would tarnish your mom’s reputation!”

Upon hearing this, my son’s expression darkened. He glared at me with disgust and kicked me hard in the abdomen.

My son, who took over the company from me in just a year, was someone I knew had a ruthless side when dealing with others.

I never expected that today, because of Joey’s words, he would turn that ruthlessness on me.

With the sock still stuffed in my mouth, I could only manage weak, gasping cries.

“Since she dared to slander your mother, she should know what it feels like to be publicly humiliated. My mom just recorded a video of the whole thing. What do you think we should do with it?” Joey suggested, holding up her phone to show him the video she had just recorded.

At that moment, I felt a mix of shame and fury like never before.

Despite the unbearable pain in my legs and my weakened state, I tried to lift myself up, desperate to tell my son who I really was.

But this only made him more disgusted with me.

He grabbed Joey’s phone and uploaded the video to a social media platform. “You insult my mom? You must have a death wish,” he said through gritted teeth, ripping off the hood that covered my head.