Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned

The police arrived quicker than I expected.

Some frightened soul must have called them when I stabbed the woman.

As soon as they turned up at the scene, they arranged for the stab victim to be sent to the hospital. Then, they started taking photos for evidence.

Feeling like she had found support, Sylvia latched onto the policeman's arm like a leech.

"Sir, you came at the perfect time! I am the wife. Yet, this mistress dared to strike me. She even attempted to kill someone. You have to arrest her right now and give her the death penalty!"

The Anti-Mistress Alliance echoed in unison, "A filthy mistress who dares hit the wife deserves to die!"

They went on, "Mistresses should take beatings quietly. Yet, you dared fight back! Bill all medical costs to her!"

"Everyone, give a thumbs-up and support the police in arresting this filthy woman."

The rod was still in my hand, and my white dress was stained red by blood. I chose to completely ignore their nonsense.

I simply turned to the officer and said, "These people publicly stripped me, robbed me, and even tried to knife me in the face. My actions were all in self-defense.

"Besides, my diamond tiara, which they smashed to pieces, cost nearly half a million dollars. The bottle of wine they shattered was another 70 thousand. The luxury bags they so cleverly slashed and the flowers they trampled on were worth about 150 thousand each.

"This dress they tore was about 20 grand. And last but not least, the engagement cake they overturned cost 30 thousand dollars.

"On top of that, they stole several luxury watches, gold jewelry, diamond earrings, and necklaces, among other items. I would say a rough estimate of the stolen and damaged goods stands at just over five million dollars. I will have my lawyer issue the invoices shortly."

Such actions could get them charged with disorderly conduct, robbery, or harassment and assault.

It was obvious that robbery carried a heavier sentence.

My attorney had all my trust in achieving the outcome I desired.

As soon as the police realized the extent of damage involved, they advised Sylvia and her group, "If I were you, I would be down on my knees right now.

"I'd apologize, make amends, and return everything that was stolen. If Ms. Stone chooses not to let go of such an amount, the main offenders could face no less than 10 years in prison."

Nonetheless, the group remained unfazed.

Yale, who had come back at some point, sneered. "Ms. Warner, everything this mistress eats and owns was provided by your husband. These items are rightfully your marital property. There's no crime in smashing your own belongings in the spur of the moment, is there?"

Instead of taking my side, here he was defending some psycho woman.

Never had I felt so disgusted by him!

Hearing his rationale, Sylvia arrogantly tipped her chin upward.

"Exactly. Everything that she supposedly owns is all gifts from my husband. I didn't like my diamond tiara, so I smashed it. I wasn't in the mood for red wine, so I threw it out. I'm rich, and don't mind wasting my money however I want. What does this have to do with you poor nobodies?"

I couldn't help but scoff at her big-headed statements. "Gifts? Do you really think your husband can afford these 'gifts'? Do you even know how much savings your own family has?"

The officers also frowned and asked Sylvia, "Do you have any proof that these were gifts from your husband?"

"What sort of proof do you need? She is my husband's mistress! If he didn't buy them for her, how could she have gotten her hands on them?" Sylvia retorted smugly.

Yale chipped in again to back her up. "Yvette is just a poor girl from the countryside; she went to college on loans. Where would she possibly get the money for luxury goods?"

At this point, I had completely given up all hope on Yale. Explaining myself wasn't even worth it.

I was long past the limits of my patience. "If you have proof, don't hold back—show it. If not, pay the charges and rot in jail. It's that simple!"

Knowing that the problem wouldn't be resolved anytime soon, the police ushered us all to the station.

Yale tagged along as he was eager to get on Sylvia's good side. I could tell that he wished for her to invest in some of his paintings.

Seeing his face, I felt sick to the stomach. "It's a real blessing that I got to see your true colors before we got married. Remember this: I'm the one who's done with you. You better pray that you don't regret your actions later, for it wouldn't change anything by then!"

Though he was only a little nameless painter, I never once looked down on him, nor spoke to him in a tone like such.

Fuming, Yale yelled back, "I'd have to be insane to regret this! You are a kept woman spending someone else's money. You act like a boss in front of me, with the ultimate plan of having me marry you, a filthy woman. I don't get how you have no shame!"

He was desperate to watch me get punished. "Ms. Warner, have your husband come over to provide evidence. Let's see if she can still be arrogant then!"

Without wasting another minute, Sylvia dialed up her husband's phone. "Honey, I'm being bullied. Come to the Marina Street police station now."

With that, she hung up and turned to me with a vicious glare.

She continued snapping at me, "You must have been kicked in the head by a donkey, to stand up against the wife! As a mistress, you attacked me and stabbed my sister... I will make you repay every last penny my husband has ever spent on you. Just wait till you're bankrupt and sitting all alone in jail!"

I laughed coldly. "Sure. Remember that part—that will be your fate."

Yale snickered. "You must have really lost your mind. How could you as a mistress still act tough against the wife?"

Just at that moment, someone hollered, "Look, Ms. Warner's husband is here!"

"Hahaha! I can't wait to see the mistress kneel and beg for mercy. Everyone, like this stream! Let's get a close-up of this wench being put in her place!"

As they watched Frederick step into the station, the crowd started to gather round even closer. The room was buzzing with excitement.

Over a dozen phone cameras were pinned on Sylvia, Frederick, and myself.

Sylvia shot me a death glare and sashayed over to Frederick. "Honey..."

"Shut your mouth! You have caused me enough trouble already!"

Following that, he slapped her hard across the face. Before she could react, he dragged her over to me.

He kicked her in the back of her knee and forced her to kneel before me. Immediately afterward, he dropped to his knees beside her.