"Katie, my son has treated you well enough, yet you're so unchaste, sleeping with so many men, being a free whore. You betrayed the marriage and ruined my son. What right have you to accuse him? You slut!"

This was the same woman I had cared for eight years ago when her legs were paralyzed. I had bathed, fed, carried her bedpans, and nursed her back to health. Now she stood tall and, with a single sentence, drove an invisible blade straight through my chest.

My mother-in-law's accusations shifted the tide.

The crowd wavered, their gazes sharp and accusing, and suddenly it was me they saw as the whore who slandered others to cover her own filth. Every pair of eyes felt like a knife stabbing into me.

Then Jasper, still acting all high and mighty, grabbed my arm.

"Get out of here. Don't give everyone another thing to laugh at."

I raised my hand and slapped him.

Jasper blinked, taken aback momentarily, then forced down his anger and tried to reason. "We were married. Can't we part amicably?"

"Fine," I shot back. "You walk away with nothing. We'll part peacefully right now."

Joanne went rigid, every muscle coiled like a spring. "You eat his meals, drink his wine, and now you go and hit him? You little bitch! If I could, I'd smack you hard!"

Jasper stepped between them and, with apparent helplessness, demanded of me, "Are you leaving or not?"

Bianca flashed a false, magnanimous smile, then spat the words like acid. "Get out. Do you want me to call the police? Don't push me, Katie! If we weren't friends, I'd have had you arrested already."

I snorted. "I'm not leaving. Why should I? The real show is only just getting started."

Jasper had had enough. He barked an order, and his bodyguards moved to throw me out.

I did not cooperate. The woman who raised chickens had learned a few tricks.

With a couple of well-placed moves, I had both guards flat on the floor.

Bianca immediately dialed the police.

When the officers arrived, Jasper hesitated for a few seconds, then told them, "She's a prostitute. She came to make trouble today. Take her in so she can be taught a lesson."

I laughed bitterly at myself for being so blind to love someone like Jasper Coleman for so long.

The police were prepared to take me in for questioning.

I refused and shouted, "I am not a prostitute. Bianca is the real prostitute! I have evidence. I want to report her!"