My Husband's Mistress Was My College Roommate

"Athena, we were just chatting among classmates. If you didn't want to hear it, you could have just ignored it. But hitting someone? That's way out of line."

"Exactly! We haven't all gotten together in years, and we finally managed to meet up for the holidays. Why do you have to ruin it?"

"Just because your life isn't going well doesn't mean you get to take it out on others. I never knew you were this petty."

"Fiona is Mrs. Rivera now. She's not someone a nobody like you can afford to offend."

Fiona clutched her face, glaring at me with indignation.

"Athena, for the sake of our years as classmates, apologize to me and kowtow three times. Then I might let this go."

I let out a cold laugh. "I will never apologize to a shameless homewrecker who slept her way to the top. You got exactly what you deserved."

Her teeth ground together in fury. "Fine. Want to play tough? Just wait."

She pulled out her phone and dialed. The call connected almost instantly.

She deliberately put it on speaker. A familiar voice came through from the other end.

"What's wrong, baby? Having fun at your reunion?"

"No, I'm not. One of my classmates hit me for no reason and won't even apologize. Wilfred, it hurts so much, and I'm so humiliated..."

"Who has the nerve to bully Wilfred Rivera's woman? Put her on the phone."

The phone was shoved into my hand. Before I could even speak, Wilfred's icy voice cut through.

"I don't care who you are. Apologize to my wife right now, exactly as she demands. Don't say I didn't give you a chance."

My voice trembled with rage. My fingers curled into fists so tight that my nails dug into my palms, sending sharp stabs of pain through my hands.

"And if I don't?"

Wilfred seemed to find my voice familiar, but Fiona's sudden whimpering beside him disrupted his thoughts. His tone turned vicious.

"Then don't blame me for teaching you a lesson my way."

He hung up before I could say another word.

Less than five minutes later, a bodyguard pushed through the door carrying a briefcase. He opened it to reveal stacks of crisp bills—a million dollars, neatly arranged.

"Mr. Rivera's orders: whoever slaps this woman gets a thousand dollars. No limit. Keep going until Mrs. Rivera is satisfied. Any consequences, Mr. Rivera will handle."

My mind exploded. It felt like I was plummeting into an endless abyss.

I remembered last month when I'd had my eye on a spring outfit that cost twenty thousand dollars. My account was short by five thousand.

I'd called him to ask for a transfer, and all I got was complaints.

"Athena, the company's losing money right now. Can you cut back a little? You have work clothes, don't you? No need to waste money. I'll order you a couple of work outfits to rotate."

Yet here he was, throwing away a fortune just to make another woman smile.

Slap!

Someone struck first. A palm connected hard with my face.

"Sorry, Athena. A thousand bucks covers my gas for a month."

Fiona didn't even blink. She transferred the money to that classmate on the spot.

I was still reeling from the shock when a storm of slaps rained down on me, one after another, everyone scrambling to get their turn.

Fiona watched me with a smile of pure satisfaction.

Someone recorded the whole thing and posted the video to our class group chat. The chat exploded.

[I'm stuck in my hometown, can't make it back. I want in so bad. Can I just curse at her instead? Maybe at a discount?]

Fiona replied: [Sure. A hundred bucks per insult. I'll transfer directly.]

Immediately, a flood of insults scrolled through the chat.

[Athena Barnes, you're nothing but a slut and a piece of trash]

[Athena Barnes is a cheap whore who's been passed around by everyone]

[Athena Barnes was selling herself back in school]

Someone else chimed in: [I'm in the city. Send me the address. My iron palm is ready to go.]