Chapter 2
Felicity’s words left everyone around us wide–eyed and in disbelief.
“Felicity, is that car really your husband’s? No way!” one classmate exclaimed, incredulous.
Felicity puffed up with pride, her chin held high. “Of course, it’s real! Why would I lie?”
With that, she pulled out her phone and started scrolling through photos of her and Logan.
There were shots of them snuggled up in the car and others of them lounging on the hood, looking cozy and intimate.
The details inside the car and the license plate were unmistakably clear.
The crowd gasped collectively. “Holy crap, it really is Felicity’s husband’s car! That means Megan must be the other woman!”
Felicity’s expression twisted into a scowl,
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her eyebrows knitting together in anger.
“No wonder you’ve been so quiet all these years. Turns out you’ve just been playing the side chick!”
The crowd turned their eyes to me, their expressions a mix of shock and disdain.
“I can’t believe it! Megan looks so put together, yet she’s been sneaking around as someone’s mistress!”
“Right? I used to think she was this cool, aloof straight–A student. I even wrote her a love letter back in high school! Now it feels gross just thinking about it!”
“Some people act all innocent on the outside, but behind closed doors, they’re a whole different story. The moment they see a wealthy guy, they’re practically begging for attention!”
“Look at her flaunting the sugar daddy’s car right in front of the real wife. She must be jealous of Felicity getting married and is trying to ruin the wedding!”
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Even Amanda looked at me with contempt, her voice dripping with disdain.
“Megan, when you’re out in public, please don’t mention that you were my student. I never taught anyone with such a lack of morals!”
The crowd’s chatter turned into a frenzy, drawing in onlookers who pointed fingers and whispered.
Some even took out their phones to record, while others spat in my direction.
In a fit of anger, I ripped off my designer coat, which was worth tens of thousands of dollars, and tossed it into a nearby trash
can.
I turned to face Felicity, my voice steady and fierce. “You should really ask Logan who the real mistress is before you start throwing accusations around!”
Once I finished, Felicity slapped me hard across the face.
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“Do you really need to ask? Today is my wedding day with Logan! Can’t you see that?”
She pointed angrily at my car, her voice rising.
“I absolutely despise mistresses. All of them deserve to be punished!”
With that, she pulled out a key and scratched the words “Mistress, die!” across my car’s paint.
I glanced at the glaring letters, a chill running down my spine.
“You’ll soon realize just how ironic those words are.”
Felicity’s anger boiled over. “You shameless. hussy! You’re stealing my husband and then mocking me?
“Just thinking about my husband’s car
being driven by a skank like you makes me sick!”
With that, she picked up a brick from the
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ground and began smashing it against my
car.
She hit the windows, the headlights, the hood–nothing was spared.
“Felicity is going to be the future First Lady of All Grand Group! We can’t let her be bullied by a lowlife like Megan!” someone in the crowd shouted.
Suddenly, everyone started grabbing anything they could find to join in the destruction.
After smashing the windows, they even climbed inside, vandalizing the seats and interior.
My once–pristine luxury car was quickly reduced to a heap of wreckage.
I watched these lunatics with a cold glare. “I hope when it comes time for you to pay for this mess, you’ll be just as eager to take responsibility.”
But my words fell on deaf ears; they acted
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like I was invisible.
Just then, one of Felicity’s lackeys pried
open the trunk and shouted, “Hey, look! She’s got a bunch of cool stuff hidden back here!”
Felicity stepped closer, pulling out a painting with a scornful smirk.
“A sleazy woman who makes a living off her body trying to play connoisseur with a collection? Give me a break.”
I couldn’t help but issue a warning in return. “These items are worth far more than my car, especially that painting.
“I’d advise you to be careful.”
The contents of my trunk were prized acquisitions from auctions that I hadn’t yet found a place for.
Felicity’s anger flared further at my words.
“It’s a desecration for a creature like
you to
own such a masterpiece!
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“You’re trash, and you deserve to own. nothing but trash!”
She tore the painting to shreds in front of me, then stomped on the remnants with vicious glee.
Amanda, scrutinizing the ruined artwork, gasped.
“That painting is a master’s original! I heard it started at a 300–million–dollar auction!”
Felicity shrugged it off brazenly. “So what if it’s 300 million dollars? That’s still my husband’s money!
“And what’s his is mine, so I can do whatever I want with my own stuff.”
Her ludicrous claim left me speechless.
Logan, far from being the wealthy tycoon they perceived, was a penniless arriviste. Even with the reins of All Grand Group in his hands, his ineptitude had slashed the company’s market value by nearly half.
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Were it not for his marital status, I would
have long since fired him.
Yet, Felicity and these old classmates idolized him as a commanding CEO, hanging on his every word.
With Felicity leading the charge, the others followed suit, wrecking and shredding the contents of my trunk with abandon.
Seeing them in a frenzy, I reckoned it was futile to intervene.
I quietly pulled out my phone to call the police.
Before I could dial, Felicity lunged at me, snatching my phone and smashing it to the ground with force.
“Calling the cops now, are you? You brazen mistress, what gives you the right?”
She then noticed the pendant around my neck, her eyes lighting up.
“That necklace looks pricey. Did you use my husband’s money for that too?”
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Before I could react, she yanked the necklace from my neck with brutal force.
Startled by her abrupt and violent action, I paled as I shouted, “Give it back!”
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