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Ethan’s need for control was so extreme that after we married, he
implanted a GPS tracker in me to monitor my every move. There wasn’t a single person–male or female–around me, yet she accused me of cheating. It was laughable.
I thought reminding her about her finger might make Loretta back off, but instead, she slapped me again.
“Oh, still playing innocent! Why don’t you get an acting job with that talent?”
“You think I came here without proof?” she spat, pulling out her phone and opening a video.
On the screen, a scantily dressed woman was kissing a man before he pinned her down. The video was graphic, and the woman’s face–she looked just like me.
Loretta’s friends chimed in, “Absolutely shameful! In the old days, they’d drown women like her!”
“If she were my daughter–in–law, I’d beat her right now!”
“What a disgrace–acting so sweet when she’s actually trash.”
Hearing their insults, I felt anger rise in my chest. I’d never faced such humiliation. That video was a clear deepfake, but I knew it was pointless explaining to this crowd of elderly women.
I pulled out my phone to call Ethan. This was his mother, and he should
deal with her however he saw fit.
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But Loretta snatched my phone and smashed it to pieces before I could
dial.
“You think I won’t handle you if Ethan finds out? Watch me,” she sneered.
I squared my shoulders. “Your actions here today are criminal. This is your
last chance to leave.”
Her friends laughed, mocking, “Look at her–cheating and acting so bold!”
“Exactly! Show her who’s boss, Loretta. Put this tramp in her place.”
Egged on by her friends, Loretta kicked one of the antique oak chairs Ethan had bought me, splitting it in two,
“You’re only here because of my son. Without him, you’d be living in some slum. Don’t you dare tell me to leave!”
The women cheered her on, calling her bold and strong. They began
smashing the rest of the chairs, following her lead. The whole set was a gift
from Ethan, one he’d bought at an outrageous price to make me happy.
One of them grabbed a Tiffany lamp off the table, ready to shatter it.
“That’s an antique worth two million,” warned her calmly.
Hesitating, she glanced at Loretta, who walked up and smashed it to
pieces.
“Everything here is my son’s,” she declared. “Destroy whatever you want, ladies–let this tramp know her place.”
With her go–ahead they tore through the house destroving everything they
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With her go–ahead, they tore through the house, destroying everything they could get their hands on.
I watched, unflinching, knowing each broken piece would serve as
evidence when they faced prison time.
Then one of the women nudged Loretta, saying, “Look, she’s glaring at
you!”
“Everything she has is thanks to your son’s money. Breaking it won’t teach her anything. You need to teach her a lesson,” she hissed.
At that, Loretta’s eyes gleamed with malice. She marched toward me. O: ‘numbered, I knew I couldn’t fight them all.
I bolted for the door, but Loretta grabbed me, yanking me back. Pain shot through my knee as I hit the floor, unable to move.
