Without hesitation, I snapped a photo of their disgusting conversation and hailed a taxi, heading straight for the mall. I stormed toward the Lois Vitone store, standing tall amid its glamorous decor.
This store, set in the center of the first floor, was known for catering to only the wealthiest clients and the salesgirls there had an air of entitlement to match, with their polished appearances, perfectly applied makeup and aloof attitudes.
I was far from their typical clientele and they didn’t hesitate to let me know. I was dressed simply, in an apron and slippers, my hair messily twisted with a pencil from cleaning around the house.
The minute I stepped in, one petite salesgirl sneered at me, her voice loud and piercing. “Get out! This isn’t a place you can afford! Why don’t you look at yourself in the mirror?”
The other salesgirls chimed in, snickering and casting judgmental glances my way. “Yes! This is a top-tier luxury store! We don’t let just anyone walk in,” one scoffed.
Another added, “A single bag here costs tens of thousands. You’d be better off just dreaming about it!”
I brushed off their petty taunts. They meant nothing to me. After all, I had only one target in mind.
At last, I saw her.
She was the one, the woman behind those disgraceful messages, her smug face confirming everything.
I locked eyes with her, my glare filled with the hatred she had ignited. Before she could even open her mouth, I raised my hand and struck her, the slap echoing through the room.
Slap!
A bright red print formed on her pale cheek.
“How dare you hit me?” she shrieked, shocked and scrambling to keep her composure.
Her colleagues gasped, some threatening to call the police, their voices high with indignation.
But I was unfazed, every ounce of my frustration fueling my response.
“Why did I hit you?” I asked, my voice steady and unwavering. “Because I’m your mother, of course! Since you insist on calling my husband ‘Daddy,’ it only makes sense for me to be your mother!”
"I'm here to teach my unruly daughter a lesson! Who gave her the audacity to meddle in another woman's marriage?" I announced loudly, my voice laced with disdain.
The mistress froze, her face registering shock and confusion.
"W-who are you?" she stammered, her confidence momentarily faltering.
I let out a mocking laugh.