When I was Framed, I Took Revenge

In a tempest of fury, Stella ravaged the painting, shredding them into oblivion. With a defiant flourish, she doused the remnants in graffiti spray paint, defacing what was once a masterpiece.

Amidst the chaos, a keen-eyed connoisseur stooped to gather the tattered fragments. His voice trembled with reverence as he whispered, "This, I believe, is the work of Van Gogh. Were it to grace the auction block, it would command a starting bid of a staggering 100 million dollars."

The revelation struck Stella like a thunderbolt, freezing her in her tracks. Beads of sweat formed on her brow as she grappled with the enormity of her actions. The realization that a mere stroke of her hand could have obliterated over 100 million dollars left her reeling.

"Ms. Carter, don't be afraid. These treasures were acquired with the funds of your boyfriend. Is not his wealth yours? Why should you be worried about damaging your things?"

This exchange elicited a sardonic chuckle from me.

After all, Howard was hardly a paragon of wealth. Even if he were entrusted with a subsidiary company, his incompetence would render it worthless, its market value a mere fraction of the artwork's worth.

Were it not for our marital bond, I would have long since fired him.

Stella, however, remained moved.

"My boyfriend's wealth is mine, and thus, his acquisitions are my domain. If I choose to destroy what is mine, what business is it of yours? Destroy it all!" Stella commanded.

At her bidding, the mob surged forward. Their frenzy intensified as if fueled by a potent elixir.

Not a single vase, antique, or piece of jewelry was spared.

They lifted them and hurled them to the ground, where they shattered into countless fragments.

One by one, they slashed at the Chanel dresses and Hermès bags with scissors.

They were like robbers entering my villa.

The once-pristine villa was transformed into a battlefield of shattered dreams and broken treasures.

It was futile to appeal to reason with these vengeful souls. As their ire reached a crescendo, I resigned myself to the inevitable and dialed the police.

Yet, before the call could connect, a vigilant spectator lunged forward, wresting my phone from my grasp and shattering it on the ground.

"You dare to call the police? How audacious of you, a mistress who hides in the shadows!"

"From the moment you embraced this role, you should have foreseen the retribution that would follow."

"That's right! Don't delude yourself into thinking that being a mistress is beyond reproach. We, the arbiters of the digital realm, are the executioners of justice to punish you!"

The audience erupted in a frenzy of approval. The comments section was awash with exclamations of "Thrilling!" and "Bravo!"

[This is how you punish a mistress. It's really cool!]

I settled my gaze on the broken phone and the frenzied mob. I spoke with a calm that belied the turmoil within, "Enjoy your destruction. I only hope you'll be as pleased when the time comes to compensate for it, and let's see if you'll still be standing or if you'll be begging me for mercy."

Undeterred by my warnings, they redoubled their efforts, and their excitement fueled the destruction.

Someone took it upon themselves to destroy the antiques I had cherished for years and kept safe in my locker, reducing both the treasures and the locker to unrecognizable states.

Their fervor only grew as they continued their rampage, pausing only to engage with the audience watching the live broadcast.

"Guys, does this not bring you solace? Does it bring you joy?"

"A woman who barters her dignity for wealth dares to hoard such treasures."

"She doesn't deserve these treasures!"

"Keep watching, everyone. Your attention fuels our quest for justice, turning this bitch's home into the garbage dump she deserves."

I watched as this pack of rabid wolves destroyed everything in their path, making no move to stop them.

Instead, I cast a glance at the security cameras scattered throughout the house, knowing that their every act of vandalism was being recorded.

The time would come for them to pay the price for their madness.

"Let's make sure we haven't missed anything. This mistress shouldn't be left with anything of value."

They marched into my bedroom to ransack the bedside table.

"Look what we've found!"

Someone emerged from the bedroom with a sandalwood box in hand.

At the sight of it, my expression shifted. "Don't you dare touch that."