I stumbled upon something that shattered my world: the salesgirl at Lois Vitone, a high-end luxury goods store, had secretly taken to calling my husband “Daddy.”
Not only that, but she had brazenly messaged me the location of their rendezvous spot at a hotel.
My heart raced with fury. I headed straight for the mall, determined to confront this woman face-to-face.
Once I arrived, I didn’t hold back. I confronted her, venting every ounce of rage that had built up inside me. But instead of supporting me, the mall manager intervened to shield her, protecting this so-called "mistress."
To make matters worse, my husband, rather than siding with me, scolded me for "airing our dirty laundry" in public.
Now that he's wealthy, he thought he could dictate my life, as if his money gave him control over me. He even dared to threaten me with divorce, as if that would scare me into silence.
Enough was enough.
I refused to be his quiet, obedient housewife any longer.
I was the daughter of the richest man in the country!
***
The discovery came from the most unexpected of sources. My husband had logged into WeTalk on the computer and neglected to log out.
Glancing at the screen without much thought, I noticed a string of flirtatious messages that made my stomach twist.
“Daddy, will you come tonight?”
“I’ve already showered.”
“I’m in my safe period today. You can do whatever you want.”
Then came the address, “Utopia Hotel, room 1028.”
The audacity of it all set my blood boiling.
This salesgirl, employed at the luxury Lois Vitone store in town, was openly pursuing my husband. Her messages were practically dripping with suggestiveness.
His responses only deepened the pain in my heart.
“Good girl,” he praised. “No wonder I can’t get my mind off of you. I wish my wife could learn a few tricks from you. She’s just too boring. She doesn’t excite me like you do.”
She kept pushing, her words designed to sting.
“Daddy, you don’t need her anymore now that you have me.”
“She’s nowhere near as bold as I am.”
“She can’t swallow you as deep or spread her legs as wide as me.”
This was more than I could bear.
The shamelessness!
I felt my anger reach a boiling point, yet my husband still ignored my calls.
Without hesitation, I snapped a photo of their disgusting conversation and hailed a taxi, heading straight for the mall. I stormed toward the Lois Vitone store, standing tall amid its glamorous decor.
This store, set in the center of the first floor, was known for catering to only the wealthiest clients and the salesgirls there had an air of entitlement to match, with their polished appearances, perfectly applied makeup and aloof attitudes.
I was far from their typical clientele and they didn’t hesitate to let me know. I was dressed simply, in an apron and slippers, my hair messily twisted with a pencil from cleaning around the house.
The minute I stepped in, one petite salesgirl sneered at me, her voice loud and piercing. “Get out! This isn’t a place you can afford! Why don’t you look at yourself in the mirror?”
The other salesgirls chimed in, snickering and casting judgmental glances my way. “Yes! This is a top-tier luxury store! We don’t let just anyone walk in,” one scoffed.
Another added, “A single bag here costs tens of thousands. You’d be better off just dreaming about it!”
I brushed off their petty taunts. They meant nothing to me. After all, I had only one target in mind.
At last, I saw her.
She was the one, the woman behind those disgraceful messages, her smug face confirming everything.
I locked eyes with her, my glare filled with the hatred she had ignited. Before she could even open her mouth, I raised my hand and struck her, the slap echoing through the room.
Slap!
A bright red print formed on her pale cheek.
“How dare you hit me?” she shrieked, shocked and scrambling to keep her composure.
Her colleagues gasped, some threatening to call the police, their voices high with indignation.
But I was unfazed, every ounce of my frustration fueling my response.
“Why did I hit you?” I asked, my voice steady and unwavering. “Because I’m your mother, of course! Since you insist on calling my husband ‘Daddy,’ it only makes sense for me to be your mother!”
Chapter 2"I'm here to teach my unruly daughter a lesson! Who gave her the audacity to meddle in another woman's marriage?" I announced loudly, my voice laced with disdain.
The mistress froze, her face registering shock and confusion.
"W-who are you?" she stammered, her confidence momentarily faltering.
I let out a mocking laugh.
"Really? I've given you such a clear hint and you still don’t know who I am? Maybe you have more than one 'Daddy' after all. So generous of you!" I taunted, pulling out my phone to display the chat log that exposed her betrayal.
"Take a good look! Maybe this will refresh your memory."
Then, without another word, I slapped her again, the sound resounding around the luxury store.
Slap!
"Who told you to make a habit of hunting for 'Daddies' everywhere? Are you that desperate for attention?"
Her face reddened as she staggered back, tears of humiliation starting to well in her eyes.
"I … you…" she stuttered, trying to regain her composure. "You misunderstood. Your husband and I were just … joking. I never intended to ruin your marriage."
Despite the glaring evidence in front of her, she clung to her excuses. Her feigned innocence only infuriated me further.
By now, the other saleswomen had gathered around, joined by the store manager, all urging me to calm down.
"Let’s not be hasty," one said nervously. "This might all be a misunderstanding."
"Please, let’s avoid violence," another chimed in, her voice shaky. "You don’t want to do anything illegal!"
During their attempts to hold me back, the mistress seized her chance and bolted toward the back exit.
I was ready for this. I didn’t come all this way just to let her slip away unscathed. I was here to make her feel the consequences in full.
The law might not punish her, but public shame would be her sentence. I was going to make sure everyone saw her for who she truly was.
This wasn’t about a slap on the wrist. It was about ruining her façade, destroying her reputation and showing the world what kind of person she really was.
Only then would she feel a fraction of the humiliation she had put me through.
Shaking off the bystanders, I chased her out of the store and down to the busy ground-floor lobby. The crowd thickened here and I grabbed a fistful of her hair from behind, forcing her to stop in her tracks.
"Think you can run? Not a chance!" I shouted, as her eyes filled with fear.
"You owe me an explanation today! Why did you think it was okay to send those flirtatious messages to my husband? Who made the first move? And how far did you take this affair?”
My demands echoed through the lobby as her horrified screams drew the attention of passing shoppers.
She shrieked, her voice frantic as she struggled to break free.
"You’re insane! Let me go! You’re making a scene for nothing!" she yelled, trying to twist out of my grip. "Are you mentally unstable or something?"
Her denials only served to fuel the anger I’d been holding back.
Refusing to let go of her hair, I raised my phone with my free hand and began to read her messages aloud, each word more damning than the last.
“Daddy, I need your help to become the lead sales associate this month.” I sneered, my voice dripping with mockery.
“If you let me rely on you, I’ll let you rely on me too.”
And my personal favorite, “Daddy, love me again, okay?”
Her face flushed as I continued, “Every time I think of you, I have to change my undies …”
The crowd erupted in a collective gasp, expressions of shock and disgust flashing across their faces.
"She’s the mistress? How shameless!" someone muttered.
"These types are the worst," a woman spat in disgust. "Always out to wreck someone else’s family."
"Isn’t she a salesgirl at Lois Vitone?" another observed. "Typical gold digger, always preying on rich men."
Voices of anger and judgment rose from every corner, fueling my determination.
I had achieved exactly what I set out to do.
Her reputation was crumbling before her eyes, every murmur of disdain a punishment for her betrayal.
Chapter 3"Isn’t that right? They’d strut around, acting all high and mighty, like they’re some kind of royalty. Hah! Deep down, they’re nothing more but sluts," someone in the crowd jeered.
"Selling goods by day, selling their bodies by night!" another person sneered, stirring laughter and nods among the bystanders.
The security guard, initially stepping forward to break up the confrontation, paused when he overheard the damning messages I had read aloud. He folded his arms, settling back with a smirk to watch the unfolding spectacle.
With the rise of social media, everyone’s a reporter. Spectators pulled out their phones to snap photos and started live-streams.
"I love seeing this homewrecker get her due!" someone muttered as they recorded.
"I need to get in on this. Imagine the views I’ll get!"
As more people gathered at the entrance, the crowd thickened until it reached hundreds, their shouts and chatter filling the air.
Soon enough, the manager of the luxury store arrived with a few other saleswomen in tow, trying to shield the mistress and speaking out defensively.
"Let her go!" one of the saleswomen demanded, her voice quivering with frustration. "You're violating her privacy!"
"Stop filming!" another cried. "If you damage our brand’s image, we’ll take legal action against you!"
"Our products are top luxury goods," the manager added haughtily. "Our brand’s reputation is invaluable!"
I chuckled darkly at their protests.
"Top luxury? What a joke! No amount of glitz can mask the filth here," I shot back.
Then I directed my glare at the manager. "You’re in charge, aren’t you? So tell me, what do you plan to do about this employee of yours who’s out to wreck families? I demand you fire her immediately! She’s the stain tarnishing your precious brand!"
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause at my words, their support loud and enthusiastic.
Meanwhile, the store manager and the sales team looked visibly rattled, exchanging glances as their initial confidence wavered.
The mistress, now surrounded by a sea of faces and hundreds of phones capturing every angle, appeared desperate. Her bravado slipped and in a moment of fury, she snapped.
"Yes! I flirted with your husband! But he came onto me!" she spat, her voice shaking with anger.
"If you’re so brave, call him here and ask him yourself! Do you really think he’s on your side? He will choose me!"
"You’re insecure because you can’t win your husband’s heart," she sneered. "Men don’t stay with women who lack charm, so no wonder he’s bored with you! Unlike you, I’m beautiful, I’m thoughtful! What can I say? Men want me."
She raised her chin defiantly, her voice dripping with contempt. "You’re just a bitter, miserable woman, clinging to your pathetic morals. Maybe if you took better care of yourself, your husband wouldn’t stray. Ugly women like you only cling to morality out of jealousy."
The venom in her words stung, but she wasn’t finished.
"Do you really think you have what it takes to compete with me? I’m a catch and you’re just a sad, pitiful wife who can’t keep her husband’s attention."
As her tirade went on, a few saleswomen chimed in, snickering and tossing out comments of their own.
"Yes! Why are you making it so hard for her?" one of them remarked, crossing her arms. "You really need a style upgrade."
"Our team at Lois Vitone is fabulous, cool and well-loved by clients," another added with a smug grin. "It’s no wonder men are drawn to us! We’re here to sell luxury goods, not hide behind veils."
"Exactly! You’ll never be able to stop other women from catching his eye," a third sneered. "Just face it. Rich men don’t limit their spending to one person."
"Why should we apologize because your husband happens to be wealthy?" someone else chimed in, rolling her eyes. "Don’t be so selfish!"
The store manager watched with a smirk, clearly relishing the situation.
"Fire her? Not a chance," she said with a cold laugh. "She’s our top salesperson and one of our best employees!"
"Relationships are personal matters and we don’t interfere in private lives," she added smugly.
"Firing someone over a family squabble? Ridiculous."
She crossed her arms, oozing confidence. "Even if you took this up with the mall’s management, it would make no difference. Our store brings in billions every year. We’re a five-star establishment here, honey. So think twice if you really believe you can scare us."