My Future Stepmother Beat Me Into the Hospital

I wanted to explain myself, but they beat me until I couldn't even muster the strength to speak.

Cameron's friends stood nearby, shouting slogans about tearing apart the "other woman" and proclaiming their loyalty to the "true wife."

"I'm not the other woman…"

I used every last bit of strength I had to try to explain to Cameron.

Cameron sneered, saying, "Of course, you're not the other woman. You're just an ill-mannered tramp who'll never be able to have kids properly."

Everyone around me started pointing fingers and whispering.

A few elegantly dressed women from the watch boutique joined in, fanning the flames with their taunts. "Beat this trash to a pulp. She's got hands and feet; why does she go be someone else's mistress."

Their words seemed to embolden Cameron even more.

Her bridesmaids, eager to make a scene, held me down on the ground as the spectacle of the "original wife tearing apart the mistress" unfolded, drawing a crowd of onlookers.

"Rip her dress apart. I want to see just how shameless this slut really is!"

Cameron laughed triumphantly.

Her bridesmaids began to tear at my gown with force, exposing more and more of me. I couldn't even think about my ruined dress, which had been a precious gift from Zach for my eighteenth birthday.

Hearing the fabric rip, I clutched at my chest, which only seemed to infuriate Cameron further.

"Hold her hands down!"

Cameron, wearing high heels, stomped the sharp stiletto heel onto my palm, the excruciating pain making me almost scream my lungs out.

In my despair, the sight of Cameron and her entourage beating me only seemed to energize the crowd.

Several men outside pulled out their phones, recording every moment, while no one intervened to stop the cruelty.

My gown was shredded beyond recognition, and I lay on the ground, disheveled and exposed.

I let out a desperate scream, trying to cover myself, but Cameron only became more excited.

She pressed her heel into my palm, twisting it savagely.

"Thank you for being with me all this way, my darling?

"Disgusting whore, do you have any shame?

"You're already shameless, so why bother hiding? Let everyone see the body you used to lure someone else's husband."

The crowd cheered.

Desperate, I looked at the crowd and weakly pleaded, "Please, someone call the police…"

A sympathetic onlooker took out their phone to call for help, but Cameron's quick-witted bridesmaids snatched it away and smashed it on the ground.

They glared at the young girl, sneering. "Feeling sorry for her? Are you one of her kind too, going around being someone's mistress?"

The girl, pale with anger, picked up her broken phone silently, too intimidated to speak.

Most people watched with glee.

"Let the mistress get what she deserves!"

"Good job beating her up! Ruin her! Still got the nerve to spend money on this fancy watch boutique? It's clear she's been toyed with by Mr. Brown."

Everyone seemed to revel in the chaos.

"Tear her dress to shreds. Since she's got no shame, let everyone see what her body's really like, used and abused."

Cameron looked like a victor, her eyes glowing red with the encouragement from the crowd, resembling a devil in her triumph.

In the midst of their violent tearing, Cameron's bridesmaids ripped my precious gown to shreds. I curled up, trembling uncontrollably, my body wracked with painful, despairing cries.

"This slut is never going to lure another man!

"Girls, bring me a knife!" Cameron demanded, her voice cold and triumphant.