Taste of My Revenge

On New Year's Eve, I got stuck cleaning up my husband's mess at the office. Our daughter was still running a high fever, but my husband was eager to take his mistress and her son home. He even told my daughter that this was a family dinner.

When our daughter and his mistress's son fought, he immediately slapped her without even finding out what happened while saying, "You're just like your mother. Bossy, unreasonable and always bullying others."

He also forced our daughter to apologize. Her face was red because of the high fever, but he thought she was unconvincing. He then locked her in her room as punishment while he took his mistress and her son out for a fancy meal. Our daughter was left delirious from the fever, while my husband played the role of a loving family man with his mistress and her son on screen.

Why should we have to endure this? I wanted those bitchy pair of scumbags to pay for what they'd done to us, to my daughter and me.

New Year's Eve should be a time for family reunions. Instead, I received a call from my daughter. Her voice was weak and tearful.

"Mom, I feel awful. Dad just hit me because of Charlie. It was Charlie who pushed me, but Dad slapped me. I don't want a dad anymore. Mom, I miss you. I felt like burning."

My daughter had been running a fever for the past few days and as a mother, my heart ached with worry. What on earth was Stefan doing?

The boy she mentioned, Charlie, was the son of Stefan's mistress. While I was at the office cleaning up his mess, he had brought his mistress and her son into our home and even laid hands on our daughter. What the hell was that?

It was beyond outrageous, but I tried to suppress my anger. At this moment, I should comfort my daughter first. "Ysabell, don't cry. Mom will be home soon. Where's Dad? Let me talk to him."

Ysabell's voice became weaker and weaker. She gradually began to speak incoherently, "Dad, Dad locked me in the room and asked me to reflect on myself. Today, he brought Yolanda and Charlie for dinner. Dad called it a family dinner. I said, what kind of family dinner is it if Mom is not here? Then he slapped me, he slapped me twice today. I'm so sad."

"He also said I'm just like you, bossy and likes to bully people. Mom, you're the best Mom in the world. You're not like what Dad said. Mom, I have a fever. I feel so awful. I'm going to faint."

Then, there was silence. My heart skipped a beat.

I stood up abruptly, grabbed my bag and rushed out. I knew that a persistent high fever could lead to coma or even death.

I kept calling my daughter desperately, but there was no response. My worry grew and my eyes stung with tears. After hanging up, I called 911 and then called Stefan.

He kept rejecting my calls, but I was relentless. Finally, he picked up. I blurted out anxiously, "Stefan, Stefan, Ysabell has a fever! You have to go back and help her!"

Stefan scoffed dismissively, "She's faking it! Don't believe her! I have important things to do tonight. Don't use this as an excuse to bother me, Zelda."

He added, "Even if you're trying to compete for attention, there should be a limit. I'm just having a meal with Yolanda. Please don't use our daughter's illness to deceive me. It's disgraceful."

My anger flared and I couldn't help but say, "I would never joke about my daughter's life, Stefan."

"Oh! That's just perfect," he replied before hanging up on me abruptly.

A mother would never gamble with her child's life and a father should not take his child's illness lightly. Stefan had truly let me down.

I rushed home and their car was already parked outside when I arrived. However, they didn't have the keys and no one was home.

When I finally found the key and opened the door, I saw my daughter lying on the floor, frothing at the mouth. Her entire body was red as if she had been unconscious for a long time. The doctor quickly administered emergency care.

Once we reached the hospital, she was rushed into the emergency room. I paced back and forth outside, praying fervently while tears streaming down my face.

I turned on my phone and called Stefan again. As the father of our child, he shouldn't be absent at a time like this, especially since it was his negligence that had led to our daughter's severe condition.

Unfortunately, the phone rang endlessly without an answer. I swallowed my rising anger and called again. This time, the call got connected.

"What now? Didn't I tell you? Don't bother me unless it's important. Today is Yolanda's birthday and it is also New Year's Eve—a time for family reunion. Why do you always have to ruin it?"

I took a deep breath to calm the fury bubbling inside me. He knew it was New Year's Eve, a day meant for family, yet he spent it with Yolanda and her son here. Who exactly did he consider his family?

"Stefan, our daughter is burning up with fever. How can you say such things? Today is a day for family, but you need to figure out who you should be spending it with."

Stefan's response was laced with anger. "She's just pretending. She got into a fight with Charlie and I slapped her. Now she's faking her sickness. "

"Ysabell is spoiled because of you, Zelda. You've indulged her too much and if this continues, she'll turn out just like you. Besides, I'm just having a meal with Yolanda. You don't have to make such a big deal out of it."

"Shut up!" I couldn't help but interrupt Stefan's utterly baffling remarks. I knew my daughter better than anyone. Stefan knew the truth in his heart—whether it was me who was overreacting or him feeling guilty.

Since Yolanda and her son returned, Stefan had changed.

He used to be a great father to our daughter and a model husband. He was patient with both his child and his wife. I remember a time when Stefan was so furious because our daughter was bullied by a boy at school that he wanted to confront the school, only relenting after I stopped him.

Since Yolanda returned with his son, all his attention has been on them, ignoring me and our daughter. Now, he's even resorted to hitting my child over Yolanda's son. He couldn't tell right from wrong and went too far.

My voice trembled with anger. "Stefan, our daughter is not pretending. She's in the emergency room and her life is hanging by a thread."

Stefan didn't care at all. His response was icy. "Zelda, stop playing games. Or better yet, stop using our daughter's life as a game piece. "

"You're just trying to ruin Yolanda's birthday because you don't like her. Frankly, it would be better if Ysabell was dead. She's already been led astray by your upbringing."

"Stefan!" I couldn't help but roar, unable to hold back my rebuke. How could he say such vicious words?

On the other end of the line, I heard Yolanda's sweet voice calling, "Stefan, come quickly."

Then, a child's voice chimed in, "Dad, hurry. We're waiting for you."

Stefan gently agreed but, in the next moment, turned cold toward me. "I have things to do. I won't stick around for your little show."

Stefan hung up and I was consumed by rage. I couldn't help but hurl my phone to the ground. My screams were filled with anguish and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

A doctor approached, holding a critical condition notice for me to sign. My hands trembled as I begged them to save my daughter. I knelt on the floor, praying to God and asking only for my daughter's life to be spared.

My daughter miraculously survived, but she was left with a devastating consequence. She had become mentally disabled. Her intelligence regressed from that of an eight-year-old to a mere three-year-old. Though her body would grow, her mind would remain forever childlike.

My eyes were red and my tears were about to dry up. I hugged my confused daughter on the hospital bed tightly. As long as she survived, I would support her for the rest of her life.

With the mind of a three-year-old, Ysabell couldn't fully express herself. She would scream, cry and throw things when faced with something. Her emotions were highly volatile.

She often threw objects that hit me, leaving bruises several times.

I was exhausted after finally putting my daughter to bed. I checked my phone and saw that Stefan had made the headlines.

"Famous Actress, Yolanda Jackman, Returns with Her Rich Husband, Stefan Palmer."

"Yolanda and Stefan to Appear on a Family Travel Show with Their Son."

The cracked screen of my phone mirrored my shattered heart. Why? I wanted to scream. Why did my daughter have to suffer while they played happy family?

Reporters swarmed to interview Yolanda. Stefan stood firmly behind her and his love for her was impossible to hide.

"Miss Jackman, are you and Mr. Palmer married?" one reporter asked eagerly.

Yolanda turned to Stefan with a smile and he stepped forward, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Yes. Otherwise, how could we be on a family travel show?" he said confidently.

Yolanda nestled into Stefan's embrace. "That's right. We hope everyone will tune in to our show."

My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms as rage boiled within me. My husband's betrayal and my daughter's tragic fate left me hollow, like a soulless zombie.

I went home in a daze. My daughter hadn't been discharged from the hospital yet, so I had to go back to get something so that I could take care of her at the hospital. When I opened the door, I never thought three pairs of eyes would look straight at me as if I were an uninvited guest who broke into someone else's home.

The dim light, the steaming dishes on the table and the smiles that hadn't yet faded all revealed the warmth they shared at that moment.

"Dad, who is this lady? Why does she have the key to our house?" a child's innocent voice asked.

Stefan looked embarrassed. "Why are you back so suddenly?" he asked awkwardly.

"Dad? Stefan, since when did we have a son?" I couldn't help but mock him.

Stefan opened his mouth to explain but was interrupted, "Please don't misunderstand, Zelda. Charlie just misspoke. Stefan has been kind to me because of my situation. There's nothing happened between us. Please, don't blame him," she said, feigning innocence.

"Nothing happened?" I seized on her words.

Stefan snapped before I could make a fuss, "Zelda, that's enough! Stop projecting your filthy thoughts onto us. What I have with Yolanda is not what you think."

I stared coldly at Stefan for a long time, as if only today I finally saw him for who he was. How could he be so shameless?

I didn't want to argue with him anymore. To me, this marriage had reached its end. The most important thing now was my daughter.

Ignoring the three, I turned and headed towards my daughter's room. Just as I reached the door, Yolanda's son, Charlie, jumped from his chair and ran before me, spreading his arms to block my way. "You're not allowed to go into my room," he said. His young voice was already filled with an overbearing arrogance.

My face darkened. It was my daughter's room. When did it become Yolanda's son's?

I gently pushed him aside, but he deliberately stumbled and fell to the floor, bursting into loud sobs. "Dad! Mom! This lady pushed me!"

Yolanda was heartbroken and ran over to protect her son. Stefan also came over, looking at the mother and son with concern. Then his arm suddenly swung, leaving a bright red slap mark on my face.

"Zelda, you've gone too far! You even bully a child."

My face burned with pain and my body trembled uncontrollably. Tears welled in my eyes, brimming with disappointment toward the man before me.

I glared at Stefan. Perhaps frightened by my gaze, Stefan stammered, "Zelda, I didn't mean it. I was too angry. I couldn't control myself. I'm sorry."

I clenched my purse tightly and said nothing, brushing past them to push open my daughter's room.

Inside, I found a completely different scene. What was once a cute, princess-themed room was now covered in Superman posters, thoroughly transformed into a boy's room. My daughter's hand-drawn family portrait was nowhere to be found.

Stefan stood beside me, struggling to explain, but I couldn't hear a word. Turning around, I raised my hand and slapped Stefan across the face with all my strength. "Who allowed you to touch my daughter's things?"

Yolanda stood up, cradling Stefan's face with concern. "Don't blame Stefan. It's my fault."

Without hesitation, I slapped her as well. If she was at fault, she deserved to be hit. Caught off guard, Yolanda fell to the ground.

"I won't let you hit my mom!" Charlie rushed over and pushed me hard to the floor. My head instantly bled after hitting the corner of the coffee table.

Due to his momentum, he couldn't stop himself and fell face-first onto the floor, crying loudly.

They were all gathered around the child, oblivious to my injuries. "Hurry, Stefan, let's go to the hospital! If anything happens to Charlie, I won't live either," Yolanda cried. Stefan carried the child and left, with Yolanda following closely behind.

The physical pain I felt was nothing compared to the emotional agony. I sat up slowly. The blood on my head slid from my forehead to the corners of my eyes and I smiled with tears. "Stefan, Yolanda, you are done. If I can't kill you, I'm not Zelda Nicholson."

I dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. It was answered quickly. I took a deep breath, my voice trembling slightly. "Benjamin, please help me."

At the hospital, my forehead wound had been bandaged with gauze. I sat on a bench while my brother was towering over me. "Impressive, severing ties with the family over a man!"

I lowered my head even more. "I know I was wrong."

Benjamin sighed. "How can I help you? No one can bully my sister."

"Get me some bodyguards," I said. If I hadn't come home today, I wouldn't have known that my house had almost become Yolanda and her son's territory.