My Husband Sold Me

“Samantha? Samantha, are you okay? Should we call the police? How could two homeless men just escape? You—why are you back?!”

A woman’s anxious voice rang out.

It was Ethan’s mother.

She was the one who persuaded me to work illegally overseas. She was the one who forced me onto that smuggling boat.

She carried a little boy in her arms. When she spotted me, her expression froze—then twisted in revulsion as she snapped:

“Ugh! Shameless tramp. Done selling yourself out there? Who gave you permission to crawl back here and embarrass my son?”

Seeing the blood all over me, she quickly turned and slammed the door shut to keep the neighbors from noticing.

The woman who once begged me like a stray dog to help her son was long gone.

Back then, she pretended to be a loving mother, swearing I was like a daughter to her, sobbing as she conned me into selling everything I had.

Now, she used the cruelest words to tear me apart.

“Disgusting whore! Vixen! Ugly witch! Trying to seduce my father, too?”

Ethan’s son stormed at me, shouting insults and throwing toys. I was barely conscious, and the glass shard in my hand slipped loose.

“You little bastard! Your mother’s the mistress here! She’s the vixen, and you’re just the bastard child! Your father and I are still married!”

“You’re lying! Mommy’s not a vixen! You’re ugly! You’re the shameless one!” the boy screamed back, sobbing.

Seeing him cry, Ethan’s mother lost all restraint. She stormed forward and slapped me hard across the face.

I was too weak to fight back.

The slap rang in my ears, and the world spun as my vision doubled.

“You can’t even bear children—what man wouldn’t leave you?”

“You’re nothing compared to Samantha. She’s our daughter-in-law, a noble artist! You’re just filth. Trash!”

“Beat her, Grandma! Beat the bad woman to death!” Ethan’s son shrieked. Driven by fury, she shoved me down and pinned me to the ground.

Samantha kicked the broken glass out of my hand while I lay there.

Summoning my last ounce of strength, I roared:

“You’re the real disgrace! You tricked me into smuggling to fund your useless son! You said he had cancer, sobbing like a saint!”

“I trusted you! I tried to comfort you! Do you even know how many times I nearly died abroad because of your lies?!”

“You dare curse me, you slut? Maybe it’s your fault my son didn’t die! You cursed him! Your whole damn family should’ve died!”

Bang!

Agony exploded in my skull as I was slammed to the floor.

I saw Ethan’s son holding a bedside lamp—he had just brought it down on my head.

“Die, you vixen!” he shrieked, hatred burning in his eyes.

I couldn’t hold on anymore. Everything went black.