I was Beaten Violently by My Stepmother As A Mistress

After years, my dad decided to remarry, and I flew back from overseas, loaded with good wishes for their wedding day.

I was picking out a heartfelt gift for my stepmom Sharon, but she confused me for a homewrecker and gave me a piece of her mind first.

Sharon and her posse of scorned wives, who'd had their homes broken by affairs, pinned me down in the jewelry shop, aiming to "set me straight".

"You little witch, climbing into bed with my husband, and now you're after his wealth too?" she spat.

"Let me school you on how real ladies behave!" she vowed.

They roughed me up, wrecked my store, carved up my face, and snapped my arm.

They ruthlessly destroyed the mementos my mother had left me.

Spotting a scar on her neck triggered some buried memories.

As I faded out from the pain, Dad finally made it there.

Bleeding and broken, I stared at him, heartbroken,

"Dad, do you really know who you're marrying?"

——

The day before the wedding, I was in the VIP room of my jewelry store, selecting pieces for Sharon.

"This masterpiece has been waiting for the right owner, priced in the billions of dollars," I boasted.

"Ms. Evans, giving away something this grand? She's hitting the jackpot!" chimed in my assistant, Sarah.

Her eyes sparkled at the sight of the regal emerald set.

"This is the one, pack it up," I decided with a soft smile.

"It's perfect for Sharon, she'll absolutely adore it."

Sarah handled the jewels with care as we heard furious ranting outside.

"I'm tying the knot with Jack tomorrow, and this sly fox dares to demand his money and shares? Does she think I'm an easy mark?"

"Exactly, we need to put this cocky little vixen in her place today, show her who's the queen here," her friend added.

"This sleazy game of chasing cash through affairs needs to stop. If she gets away with it, we'll be swarmed with copycats!"

"Absolutely, it's our duty to knock down a mistress!" the crowd agreed.

Intrigued onlookers began supporting, shouting their own tales of woe.

"My husband was charmed away by another woman, now he's ditched the family and is trying to leave me broke. I wish I could tear her apart," one yelled.

"These vultures destroy happy homes and deserve a reality check!" another exclaimed.

"Ladies, why make it tough on each other? But sis, we back your move to teach her a lesson," offered a supporter.

"Thanks for backing me up, folks! We won't disappoint you," Sharon rallied her troops.

With public backing, the scorned wives' confidence surged.

I scowled; their shouts could likely be heard throughout the mall.

I'm all business and usually stay out of personal dramas.

However, their uproar at my store's front was bad for business.

I stepped out of the VIP room, ready to defuse the situation.

To my surprise, there stood Sharon, whom Jake was getting married to tomorrow.

He had once shown me her photo and praised her for her kindness and the care she gave him.

He'd told me he wanted to grow old with her.

When I first saw her, I felt strangely familiar with her.

Because she kind of reminded me of Julia.

Jake had promised never to remarry, to stay by my side forever, for the sake of Julia.

Yet, he announced his engagement three months ago.

Jake had been through a lot, so I didn't remind him of his old promise.

If Sharon made him happy, who was I to deny him that?

And yet here she was, hunting down a socalled mistress.

Behind her, four ladies around her age held up a banner.

"Mistress Supreme—Specializing in Seducing Married Men."

Jake, a man of integrity and deep feelings, involved with a mistress? Unlikely.

It had to be some mixup.

I texted Jake and stepped outside to introduce myself to Sharon and help clear the air.

But the moment she saw me, her face twisted in anger and envy.

Before I could speak, she slapped me hard, her diamondstudded nails slicing my cheek, leaving some blood marks.

The pain was instant and searing, like being burned alive.

She glared, her eyes blazing with fury,

"So the little tart is actually here!"

"Getting a thrill from seducing someone's husband, huh?"

"Not satisfied with conning him out of this store, you want his shares too? You're the greediest little thing I've ever seen. Aren't you afraid of choking on your ambitions?"

Sharon's tirade hit me like a bolt out of the blue, nearly knocking me off my feet.

Shocked, I stared at her and her brigade of scorned women, their glares filled with scorn and fury.

The onlookers, convinced by her rant, shot daggers at me with their eyes.

That's when it hit me—Sharon thought I was Jake's kept woman.

Absolutely absurd!

As a child, Julia and I were kidnapped to extort a hefty ransom from Jake.

Terrified, the trauma caused me to spike fevers and eventually lose all memory of the rescue.

All I remembered was Jake paying the ransom, but they still brutally killed Julia.

Jake, fearing another tragedy, raised me secretly abroad and kept my existence under wraps.

After coming of age, Jake moved back home, nostalgic for his roots.

I stayed abroad to further my studies in design.

He gifted me this jewelry store on my eighteenth birthday.

I personally designed every piece in this collection.

Knowing it was a misunderstanding, I shrugged off Sharon's slap and insults.

I just wanted to clear the air.

"You're mistaken, I'm not the mistress you're accusing me of being, I'm Lind..."

"Cut the crap, you conniving witch! It's too late for excuses— I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!"

Sharon interrupted, grabbing my hair and throwing me to the ground.

Agony surged through me as my head crashed into the glass case.

"Ouch!"

The glass shattered, webbing out from the point of impact.

Blood blurred my vision as it trickled from my forehead.

"Attacking without the facts? What happened to decency?"

I fought for breath, struggling to rise.

But Sharon stomped on my face, grinding it like she was squashing an ant.

Sarah was frozen in shock for a moment before snapping back to reality.

She was about to call the police when two of the women grabbed the phone from her.

They shoved her into the VIP room and locked her in.

A voice from the crowd shouted, "That's what she deserves!"

Energized by the shout, the women seemed invigorated as if spurred on by adrenaline.

One grabbed my phone, shoved it in my face to unlock it, and passed it to Sharon.

Sharon gripped my phone, stepping harder on my cheek, mangling my face so I couldn't utter a sound.

She held up the phone to the crowd,

"Look at this! Check out what this homewrecker has my husband saved as 'Dear Old Baby'!"

"And just look at how much he's shelled out for her!"

"You still deny it's you?!"

As she scrolled through the chat history, her hands shook with anger.

Then, in a fit of rage, she smashed my phone.

Jake and I mostly talked over the phone, only texting for gifts or transactions.

My usual name for Jake was "Père", a common French term.

If any of them knew even a lick of French, they wouldn't dare treat me this way.

"Young and already a homewrecker? In the old days, you'd have been drowned for less!"

Suddenly, I was the target of everyone's wrath, facing a barrage of accusations and insults.

Sharon stood towering over me, hands on her hips, looking down with sheer disdain,

"Ladies, you've all been victims of homewreckers. What do you think we should do with this one?"

Her words twisted their faces into masks of vengeance.

They glared at me as if I were their worst enemy.

"Today, we're going to teach you how to behave."

"Only knows how to climb into bed for money, huh? I squash bugs like you!"

"Ladies, let's tear her face up, and see if she can seduce anyone then!"

They charged at me like wild animals, devoid of any reason, just blinded by hate.

Punches and kicks fell on me like hail.

Their strikes were as ferocious as any grown man's.

My body shook violently from the blows, my organs quivering with each hit.

Defenseless, I curled up, clutching the jade pendant my mother had left, silently enduring the onslaught.

Sharon looked down at me, smirking with a victor's glee.

"Kneel and knock your head on the floor ten times, strip, wear this banner and circle the mall three times shouting 'I'm a slutty mistress,' and maybe I'll let you go."

Chilled to the bone, I realized this was my future stepmom...

Nothing like the gentle, caring woman Jake had described.

The venom in her eyes was something no truly kind person could harbor.

Jake had clearly been duped by her facade.

Struggling, I managed a weak, hoarse whisper,

"You... harpy... I will not... let you... marry... my dad..."

Though she was crushing my mouth, they failed to hear me say "dad."

But the word "harpy" rang out loud and clear.

"You trashy hussy, you still have the gall to insult me?"

Sharon gritted her teeth in disbelief,

"Such nerve! Mistresses these days are just too brazen!"

"You're all beat up and still talking tough? I'll show you what I'm made of, or my name isn't Sharon Harry!"

Sharon Harry?

Beyond my anger, a surge of something inexplicable rose within me.

Pain overwhelmed me before I could unpack that feeling, making each breath a struggle.

Sharon raised her hand, and her entourage paused their beating.

As soon as I relaxed, blood unexpectedly spilled from my mouth.

Some faces in the crowd softened, their eyes reflecting a flicker of pity.

Desperate, I called out to them for help,

"Please, someone call the police! I'm not the other woman, I just flew in for my dad's wedding. I am..."

Sharon cut me off, pinching my chin with her sharp nails,

"See how she tries to play the victim? That's her trick, seducing her way into beds."

"Don't be fooled by her act. For the disrespect she showed me, she's gonna bleed today!"

"Ladies, trash this place!"

I managed to croak out defiantly,

"You wouldn't!"

"Think I won't? Watch this!"

The women glanced at each other, uncertain,

"Really? Destroy all this beautiful stuff?"

Sharon's jealousy contorted her face as she hissed,

"It's all my husband's property. I'd rather smash it than let this homewrecker have it!"

"She doesn't deserve a single piece of it."

"Relax, my husband ranks eighth on the richest list. We can afford to smash a little— I'll cover any trouble."

Emboldened by Sharon's command, the women reluctantly started smashing, yet their eyes sparkled shrewdly.

Display cases toppled, jewels scattered and shattered with a sharp, distressing sound.

They winked and nodded at each other while wrecking the place, sneaking pricey gems into their pockets in the corners that couldn't be seen from outside.

Within minutes, the showcase was in ruins.

My heart bled, and tears welled up.

I'd painstakingly designed the creations over endless nights with all my efforts.

Seeing an opening as Sharon gloated, I broke free and shoved her aside.

My mouth was bloody, speaking caused immense pain, but I couldn't hold back any longer,

"Enough! Everyone, just stop!"

"Sharon Harry, right? Well, I'm Linda Evans, Jack Evans's daughter, the very man you're marrying tomorrow!"

"If Dad sees how you're treating me, he won't let this slide!"

Those words cost all my strength.

I thought revealing who I was would make them stop, apologize, and maybe even beg for forgiveness.

But they paused only momentarily before bursting into laughter.

"Told you, she's an actress through and through, deceiving us all!"

Then Sharon hoisted me up and slammed me back against the display case.

My spine screamed in pain, the numbness spreading.

"Yesterday, my fiancé told me his daughter was in France for a major jewelry contest, couldn't make our wedding."

"Don't believe me? Call my dad yourself!"

Sharon's fury only intensified instead of calming down.

She became more diabolical and brutal.

"Impersonating my stepdaughter, of all people? You think you can play that role?"

"First, you try to steal my husband, now his daughter? I need to make you suffer today, teach you a lesson."

"Ladies, let's finish her off."

Two women held down my arms, forcing me to lie back on the shattered display.

Another two restrained my legs, leaving me exposed in my skirt, prone and visible to the onlookers.

At that moment, I felt a despair and vulnerability I had never known.

Never had I imagined myself at the mercy of such baseless cruelty and degradation.

"Sharon Harry, you lunatic!"

Sharon laughed heartily,

"You finally said something accurate. I am a lunatic! Push me too far, and there's nothing I won't do!"

She circled me twice, relishing my powerless rage.

Suddenly, her smile disappeared as she grabbed the pendant around my neck.

Instinctively, I struggled, reaching out for it.

"Don't touch it! Give it back!"

Sharon examined the pendant, sneering,

"You've been clinging to this thing like it's your lifeline. It's just some old pendant, isn't it?"

"All those jewels broke without a peep from you, but this trinket has you all riled up?"

Noticing my panic, she deliberately tapped the pendant against the glass, eliciting a sharp sound.

Panic surged through me.

This pendant was my mom's last gift to me.

She was a gifted jewelry designer and had made it when I was born, infusing it with all her maternal love.

The design was remarkable. One way, it depicted a pregnant mother caressing her belly; flipped, a toddler running into her arms.

I'd worn it since I could remember, treasuring it more after Julia passed, fearful of any harm.

At that moment, fear gripped me.

Sharon was capable of anything, utterly unhinged.

I couldn't just watch her destroy something so precious.

My voice broke as I pleaded,

"This is all I have left from my mom, my only solace."

"Please, just return the pendant, and I won't pursue today's events any further."

Sharon smirked leisurely, her lips curling,

"Want it back, huh? Sure, why not?"

"But first, kneel and give me ten good bows as an apology."

The two women grabbed my arms and shoved me down to my knees.

"Look at this little hellcat, puffing up like a pufferfish!" one taunted.

"She had it coming. Who does she think she is, trying to seduce Sharon's man? A dude old enough to be her father!" another chimed in.

"Gonna kneel or not? Keep staring and I'll pop those eyes right out!"

Despite my struggles, I couldn't move an inch.

"Sharon, don't you think you've crossed the line?" I shot back.

My stepmom smirked, dripping with sarcasm,

"You've got ten seconds to think it over. Ten, nine, eight..."

Fury mixed with pain filled my eyes, my teeth clenched tight.

"Five, four, three..."

Sharon theatrically raised her hand, poised to throw,

"Big talk about family and loyalty, huh? Seems you don't care much for your mom's memento."

"Two, one!"

The last thread of my resistance snapped, and I shouted,

"No! Please, don't destroy it. I'll kneel, I'll kneel!"

My submission visibly pleased Sharon.

She slowly lowered her hand, a smug grin spreading across her face.

Gritting my teeth against the anger and pain, I hesitated not a moment before slamming my forehead to the ground.

Each impact felt like another stomp on my dignity.

For the first time, I felt the helplessness of being powerless despite living in a peaceful era.

The old blood stains on my forehead soaked anew with fresh blood.

Lifting my head after the tenth bow, my vision blurred with tears and blood.

In utter humiliation, I reached out, begging,

"Can I have the pendant back now, please?"

Sharon held the pendant just out of reach above my hand.

As I tried to grasp it, she snatched it away, laughing cruelly.

"Wow, are all mistresses this thick?" she scoffed.

"It's because you care so much about this little trinket, I really need to destroy it!"

She lifted her arm again with a twisted smile, and smashed it down.

I watched helplessly as the pendant shattered right before my eyes.

My heart...

It broke right along with it.

Shaking uncontrollably, my fingers scraped against the tile floor, screeching loudly.

Overwhelmed by a wave of hatred, I lost all sense of reason.

I lunged at Sharon like a wild animal.

I grabbed her hair, and bit into her skin, venting all the pentup rage burning inside me.

When I noticed the neat row of scars on the back of her neck, pain pierced through me like a knife.

Tears mixed with blood, and fragmented memories flashed through my mind.

"Sharon Harry, I'll kill you!" I screamed, lashing out at anyone who tried to hold me back.

"Ah! My arm!" one cried.

"My back, let go, you psycho!" another shrieked.

"My hair, you demon, give me back my hair!" yet another yelled.

My mouth tasted of blood, not even sure whose flesh was between my teeth.

My face, smeared with blood, was like something out of a horror show.

The spectators, horrified, scattered in all directions.

The security finally arrived, slow to react.

Sharon pointed at them, barking furiously,

"I'm Jack Evans' wife! Who dares mess with me?"

"This whole mall is my territory! Am I not allowed to discipline a shameless homewrecker in my own house? Any problem with that?"

The security guards looked at each other, uncertain how to respond.

Empowered by their hesitation, Sharon's gang felt even more justified in their brutality.

They pinned me down harder, their grip irontight.

Sharon, nursing her bitten arm, kicked me brutally.

"Since you're so fierce, let's see how you like being stripped and paraded!"

I lost all control, fighting as my life depended on it.

Even in death, I'd drag them down with me.

They couldn't believe how tough I was to handle.

As I nearly wriggled free, they panicked.

"We can't hold her! Is she insane?" they gasped.

"Then break her arm!" Sharon ordered, twisting it viciously

Clack!

She snapped my left arm just like that.

A howl of agony escaped me as I collapsed again.

"That'll calm you down, you wild thing," she hissed.

"Strip her, now!" she commanded.

I gave up struggling, numbly staring at the ceiling.

In my heart, I swore that if they didn't finish me today, I'd haunt them for the rest of their lives.

Not one would be spared.

Just when I thought they were about to strip me bare and drag me through the streets,

A powerful, angry voice cut through the chaos,

"Stop!"

"Have you all lost your minds?!"

Hearing my dad's voice, I finally let myself weep.

"Dad, you finally came."

I lay there, straining to look up.

Blood streamed from my eyes as I looked up at him in despair,

"Dad, do you really know the woman you're about to marry?"