Saving Fiancé from Stalker

After the ceremony at the hotel and finishing the meal, an hour had passed. My husband, the ever-dedicated software developer, was unexpectedly called back to work. Originally, I planned to head back with my parents, bringing my daughter along, since there was a small gathering still planned at their place. However, my daughter didn’t want to go. She had already shown remarkable patience in behaving for so long, and I didn’t want to push her any further.

Once our family was on their way home, I decided to take my daughter to the nearby shopping mall to fulfill my promise of rewarding her good behavior with a new toy. As we walked, I hurriedly switched off my phone’s airplane mode, which I had activated after hanging up on my ex-friend. As soon as the phone connected to the network, a barrage of furious messages appeared:

"Aadhya Lawrence, how dare you hang up on me!"

"Answer the phone, answer the phone, for God's sake, answer the phone!"

"This is your last chance! Answer the phone and tell me the address!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

"Aadhya, you jerk! I will ruin you!"

"You’re going to destroy the only chance I have for happiness, my future!"

"He's mine!"

"I’ve been single for so long, and now I’ve found someone perfect for me!"

"I’ve been waiting for him; he’s meant for me!"

"****! ****! Answer the phone! Answer the phone! Ahhhhh!"

I was taken aback by the flood of vulgarities and insults, filled with a deep sense of unfamiliarity. In all these years of knowing Violet, I had never seen this side of her. How could she hurl such abuse at me without a hint of guilt, when she was the one in the wrong? As I reevaluated our relationship, I heard hurried footsteps approaching.

My daughter reacted first, tugging on my hand and calling out. "Auntie Violet, Auntie Violet, come play!"

Following her voice, I looked up to see Violet herself, storming toward us. Ignoring my daughter, she reached me with a furious expression and grabbed my shoulder. "Where are they? Where are they? Take me to them!"

It had been over an hour, and she still hadn't calmed down. She wanted to crash my sister’s engagement, posing as a friend. I shook her hand off coldly and tried to reason with her. "The ceremony is over; they’re engaged. You can’t cause any more trouble..."

I hadn’t finished before Violet interrupted, yelling, "I don't care if they're engaged or not!"

"Where is my man?" she demanded. "Tell me, I want to find him!"

Her man. She was beyond reasoning, truly out of control.

Ignoring her, I turned to leave with my daughter. But Violet wasn’t backing down.

"Speak up! Take me there!" she shouted. "I'm serious! I'm not joking!"

Neither was I. Without looking back, I kept moving.

But Violet was truly unhinged. She reached out and yanked my hair painfully. Sharp pain shot across my scalp, burning fiercely. Yet she showed no mercy in pulling my hair, trying to drag me along as a guide.

I struggled, twisting to break free, but her grip was unrelenting, pulling me backward at her will. The sudden change left me and my daughter in shock. My daughter ran up, trying to pull Violet’s hand away.

"Auntie Violet, Auntie Violet, let go of mommy; she's not feeling well... My hair is long, you can pull mine, I'll play with you."

My daughter thought Violet was still the woman she knew from before, someone who played games with her. But that Violet no longer existed. Violet raised a hand and slapped my daughter hard, then pushed her violently aside.

"You little brat, get away!"

I couldn't fathom how much strength Violet used, but my daughter flew backward, landing roughly on the ground. Seeing this, rage surged through me. How could she lay such a heavy hand on a child? Ignoring the pain in my head and my stumbling steps, I reached desperately, grabbing for Violet’s hand.

After hurried attempts, I caught hold of the hand that gripped my hair. I drove my nails into her skin, eliciting a scream. Yet, the pain in my scalp intensified even more. Violet still refused to release her grip, clenching my hair tighter. But at least her forward steps stopped.

I finally steadied myself, biting back my anger and the tremor in my voice, planting my feet firmly. Then I kicked forward with all my might. I was wearing high heels that day. They made me stagger when pulled, barely able to stand. But they were also powerful. I aimed with my heel, kicking with force. As the kick landed, my hair was suddenly released, and a loud cry of pain followed as Violet collapsed to the ground. I ignored her, frantic to find my daughter.

Breathing heavily, scanning back and forth, I finally spotted her. She lay sprawled on the ground, her body at an entrance. Nearby was a newly opened store, with a deflated inflatable figure in front. Her head rested on the foot of the inflatable.

Thank God her head hit the inflatable, sparing her from hitting the pavement. Had it been the nearby steps, the consequences would have been unimaginable!

Her head was unharmed, but her hands were injured. Both palms were scraped, red and blackened, dust and gravel embedded in bleeding wounds. They had grazed the ground when she fell. My daughter held up her hands, tears brimming in her eyes, her expression fearful and shaken.

"Mommy, it hurts..."

"Auntie Violet is mean. We won't play with her anymore..."

Just looking at her hands made me imagine the searing pain she must feel. I picked her up, soothing her, preparing to rush to the nearest hospital. But as I stepped forward, a bag hit my back, and Violet’s ominous voice echoed.

"Aadhya Lawrence, you witch! You're not leaving! Stop right there!"

"After hurting me, ruining my plans, you think you can just walk away?"

My heart was filled with anger and worry for my daughter. This wasn't the time for revenge. But hearing her vile voice, I couldn't hold back. Holding my daughter, I quickly turned, kicking Violet hard in the shoulder. Again, with the heel. Instantly, Violet doubled over, clutching her shoulder, writhing in agony.

Relishing the satisfaction, I raised my hand, delivering several hard slaps to her face. Her snarling features swelled and reddened. Spitting out saliva, I let it fall on her face before carrying my daughter away without looking back.