New Year Homecoming: Kicked Out the Mistress

The freezing water rushed into my nose and mouth instantly. The suffocating pressure and the biting cold merged into a terrifying, near-death panic.

I thrashed wildly, arms flailing in the air, knocking the soap dispenser and a reed diffuser bottle off the counter.

A few seconds later, she yanked my head back up.

I wheezed violently, my lungs feeling as if they were on fire. Water streamed down my face, an indistinguishable mix of tears and tap water.

"Have you learned your lesson yet?"

She kept her fist knotted in my hair, staring me down. "Still feel like playing princess?"

I looked her dead in the eye. If looks could kill, she'd have been dead a hundred times over.

"You're going to regret this," I said, biting down hard on every word. "I promise you that."

She scoffed and let her eyes drop to my soaked clothes. "Look at you, tracking water all over my floors! What a filthy, miserable mess!"

Without warning, she released me, then jabbed a finger toward a rag bunched up in the corner.

"Take them off."

I froze. "What?"

"I said take your clothes off!" the woman hissed, her eyes gleaming with malice. "How are you supposed to work in wet clothes? Strip out of those filthy rags so you don't ruin my couch and carpets. You're cleaning these floors naked. You don't get to leave until every single inch is spotless!"

"Not a chance," I said, wrapping my arms tightly around myself.

"We can do this the hard way, then!"

The woman completely snapped. She lunged at me like a lunatic, clawing wildly at my clothes.

"Get your hands off me! My dad is on his way home right now, and if you know what's good for you, you'll stop! Or my family will make you pay for this!"

I fought back as hard as I could, but the sheer difference in physical strength left me at an absolute disadvantage.

The journey home had already exhausted me. I'd only wanted to come home and get some rest.

My soaked clothes were heavy and clung uncomfortably to my skin. As she violently ripped at them, the zipper snapped, and the sound of tearing fabric echoed through the cramped bathroom.

Two more slaps cracked across my face.

My mouth was flooded with the metallic taste of blood, and I could feel that my lip had split.

My jacket hit the floor first, followed by my hoodie.

In the end, I was left shivering in the corner, stripped down to nothing but my underwear.

I could feel the chill in my bones, and the agony wasn't just physical. It was psychological, too.

I'd been pampered and protected my entire life. My grandparents cherished me deeply, and Mom and Dad had never once raised their voices at me.

My life had been smooth sailing up until this moment. I'd never once imagined that a person could be this utterly vile.

Nonetheless, the woman looked thoroughly pleased with her handiwork.

Clutching my torn clothes like trophies, she looked down at me with smug satisfaction.

"That's more like it. If you'd just listened to me from the start, you wouldn't have had to suffer through that."

She kicked my clothes aside like they were garbage, then turned and walked back out to the living room.

She tidied her slightly disheveled hair, adjusted the silk robe that was stretched taut against her heavy frame, and sank back into the couch.

Picking up her half-finished glass of red wine, she took a slow, unhurried sip.

"Pick up the pace," she barked toward the bathroom. "And don't even think about making a run for it. I've locked the front door. If you're not done by 6:00 pm, I'll get a nice photo of you and put it all over the internet so everyone can see what exactly happens to scammers."

My head was spinning badly, and my limbs felt like they belonged to someone else.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Standing outside was a middle-aged woman in a blue utility uniform, carrying a professional toolbox. Her forehead was damp with sweat, and she looked utterly apologetic.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so, so sorry!"

She bowed repeatedly. "The highway was completely backed up, and there was nothing I could do. I'm Carol Baker from the housekeeping agency. Professor Bennett booked a window cleaning and deep clean for this afternoon. I'm really sorry for being late!"

In that instant, the air in the room seemed to freeze, and the woman on the couch stiffened.