When I was Framed, I Took Revenge

The sweet nothings whispered to my husband, Howard Ford, had unwittingly cast me as the other woman in his life. His so-called "girlfriend" saw me as a rival, a mistress in the shadows.

With the ferocity of a scorned lover, she stormed into my home, flanked by a mob of self-appointed moral vigilantes known as the "Alliance for Punishing Mistresses."

"How dare you play the part of a mistress without the courage to own up to it?"

"From the moment you chose this path, you should have known the reckoning would come!"

"We, the Internet Judges, are the avengers of moral decay!"

The room erupted in a cacophony of curses and the shattering of precious objects.

Amidst the chaos, I remained composed. My fingers were dancing over the screen of my phone as I drafted a message to the company's legal department.

"According to the prenuptial agreement in hand, you prepare the divorce papers at once. Howard Ford should leave with nothing. And make them pay for every last luxury and priceless antique that's been destroyed here today."

"How dare Howard have a mistress? He even depends on me to advance his course." I mused aloud.

——

Earlier, I had concluded a video conference with several key shareholders from the comfort of my own home. Now, I found myself drawn to an outdoor live broadcast, where a group of impassioned individuals marched through the streets, banners aloft.

"Punishing mistresses is everyone's duty," the banner proclaimed.

They were a rallying cry for the mob. Their energy was infectious, engaging with the audience in the live chat with fervor.

"Guys, subscribe and like this post. We will soon show you the live punishment of the mistress!"

As they spoke, they arrived at the gates of a residential area.

Recognition dawned on me. It was my own neighborhood.

Meanwhile, the comments section exploded with reactions.

[Shit! The mistress lives in my community! What a disgrace!]

[The higher the property value, the more mistresses, it seems.]

[That's right. Both keeping and being a mistress requires money, after all.]

[I detest mistresses. Hurry up! I can't wait to see her caught!]

The live broadcast room swelled with viewers, the host's excitement reaching fever pitch as he implored everyone to follow and show their support.

He promised to hasten their pursuit of the mistress once the follower count hit 100,000.

In this age of streaming sensationalism, I had never been one to indulge. Yet, as I was about to swipe away, a familiar face appeared on the screen.

I saw Howard's assistant, Stella Carter.

Over the years, as Howard navigated life under my family's roof, I had granted him a subsidiary to manage.

To demonstrate his loyalty, he had always insisted I review the resumes of any female recruits.

Thus, Stella was a face I knew well.

Now, she stood before the camera, and her voice was choked with tears as she addressed the live audience.

"My relationship with my boyfriend has always been solid, but this woman relentlessly sends me provocative messages, trying to seduce him away. She threatens me that as long as I don't break up with my boyfriend, she'll make my life a misery. Can a mistress really drive someone to despair?"

Stella sobbed, and her words were eliciting a wave of sympathy from the viewers.

The audience rallied, vowing to stand by her and defeat the "vicious mistress."

I never imagined the world could be so small that I'd find myself embroiled in the drama of my own employees through a live broadcast.

After ending the stream, I called Howard.

"Darling, is Stella not at work today?"

"She's taken the day off. Why do you ask?"

"It seems she's in some trouble. Check in with her to see if there's anything we can do to help. She's our employee, after all, and shouldn't be subjected to bullying."

As I hung up, the doorbell rang.

The door burst open under a forceful push.

A throng of people flooded in.

"Look! This is the mistress we've come to punish!"

"A mistress' life is indeed lavish. To live alone in such opulence, no wonder she clings to another's man!"

As I steadied myself, a barrage of phones was thrust into my face.

The air was thick with the stench of righteous indignation as the mob advanced.

I stood my ground, recognizing the very same faces from the live broadcast.

"How did they mistake me for the mistress?" I mused.

I was speechless and said, "Did you make a mistake? I..."

Before I could finish, a sharp slap cut through the air, landing on my cheek with a stinging force. It was Stella.

"You bitch! How dare you live so well off my man's money?"