Chapter 1

The engagement party was just about to begin.

My elbow was hooked around my fiancé's as we walked toward the banquet hall.

All of a sudden, he turned to me. "Yvie, what do you think of women who become mistresses?"

"Why are you asking this out of the blue?"

Yale Linton didn't answer my question. Instead, he gritted his teeth and said, "I think the woman who becomes a mistress and then tricks an honest man into marrying her is filthy and despicable. I think she deserves to be ruined and condemned!"

He was acting weird today.

But before I had the time to ponder further, we arrived at the banquet hall.

As I lifted my dress to step onto the stage, a group of people who called themselves the Anti-Mistress Alliance stormed in.

In the lead was a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes. She lunged at me and slapped me hard across the face. "You shameless thing, how dare you seduce my husband? I'm beating you to death!"

She moved so quickly that I didn't have time to react. In an instant, my cheek swelled up.

The room fell into a stunned silence.

Shocked and panicked, I cupped a hand over my face and instinctively leaned into Yale.

To my surprise, he presented me with a slap, too. Disgust was written all over his face as he spat, "You mistress—how low can you be?"

The crowd erupted into murmurs. The judgmental eyes and phone cameras pointed at me made me feel nauseous.

Coupled with the burning pain on my face, I was completely bewildered. "What are you all talking about?"

Yale sneered. "Drop the pretense. I know everything. You're not some big boss; you're just someone's kept woman! You conniving wench, you've been lying to me all these years!"

"I've never been a mistress!"

We had been in love for five years.

I never imagined that he would buy into such accusations without questioning them.

The middle-aged woman grew agitated. "How could you still lie? Just a few days ago, my husband bought you the latest luxury bag. Do you dare say the person in this photo isn't you?"

She shoved a photo in my face.

The picture was taken in front of a restaurant. It showed Frederick Lane—the owner of a small company I was investing in—giving me a luxury bag as my birthday gift.

"Yes, that's me in the photo. However, Frederick and I are only business partners. We..."

"You shameless little witch! You climbed into my husband's bed but don't dare admit it! You have hands and feet but don't work. Instead, you spread your legs to live off men. Your parents may not have taught you decency, but I, Sylvia Warner, will!"

Sylvia wasn't listening to a word I said. She raised her hand to hit me again.

I wasn't a loser, though. Grabbing her hand, I pushed her to the ground.

"Can't you understand English? I am the owner of Clarity Ventures, which is investing in Frederick Lane. I..."

No one was listening to me at all.

"The mistress attacked the wife! How outrageous!"

Before I knew it, a mob of lunatics rushed at me. Some yanked my hair and others seized my limbs. They pinched and twisted my flesh.

"You little tart, showing off those big breasts! Who are you flaunting for?"

"That diamond on her tiara is massive! How much did it cost? Leaving that for the mistress is a sin!"