Revenge On My Husband and His Ex-wife

As chaos erupted, the guests at the birthday party scattered in all directions.

My daughter, Emma, however, broke away from the nanny and ran towards me, tears streaming down her face.

She yelled as she ran, "Stop! Leave my mom alone, you bullies!"

Savannah grinned, thrilled her scheme was unfolding as planned.

Clutching her phone, she menacingly approached Emma.

"Playing the perfect little family, huh? Folks, want a peek at what the mistress's brat looks like? Smash that like button, and I'll show you the true face of this little cheat! With a mom like hers, this kid's bound to be rotten too—should be squashed right here!"

Panic surged through me as I saw Savannah closing in. I tried to break free with all my might.

A heavy boot kicked me back down, driving shards of glass into my skin.

Pain shot through me, but I only screamed louder, "Don't touch my Emma!"

I desperately called out to the teacher Lena Carter in the corner, "Ms. Carter, please, help me—call 911!"

Ms. Carter just scoffed.

"Call the police? Why? If you weren't so morally corrupt, you wouldn't be in this situation."

"Poor Emma, having a mother like you."

I had always made sure Emma was happy at preschool, even going so far as to curry favor with Ms. Carter.

Yet, there she stood, unwilling to even make a call to the police while we were being attacked.

A wave of despair overwhelmed me.

Savannah then noticed the designer dresses Emma and I were wearing.

"Why should two tramps like you wear such fine clothes? Rip them off!" she commanded.

Savannah viciously tore the train from Emma's dress, causing her to cry out in terror, frozen with fear.

The brute beside me was quick to follow suit, ripping my dress to shreds.

As Savannah reached to tear the remaining fabric from Emma, I broke free and shielded her with my body.

Disgusted, Savannah turned and shouted, "Get this trash away from her!"

"After I'm done with the kid, I'll deal with her!"

"Thinks she can steal my man? Not on my watch, not with all these eyes on us!"

As she spoke, a muscle-bound man tried to pull Emma and me apart.

Emma clung to me, crying inconsolably.

I clung back, fighting with every ounce of my strength.

My nails broke off in the struggle, my fingers bleeding, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear of losing her.

Despite my efforts, they pried Emma from my arms.

Her breathing became faint, and panic-stricken, I screamed, "Emma's having an asthma attack! Her inhaler's in her bag—she needs it now or she might die!"

"You want money? I'll give you anything, just save my daughter!"