Mrs. Anna Shaw had come from her hometown for Independence Day, and I took her to dinner at my husband's newly opened upscale restaurant.

I ordered her favorite dish, braised fish, but after taking a bite, she discovered it was stone cold, with ice crystals even visible inside.

I called the manager over, but she was blasé:

"Oh — I forgot to microwave it."

I was puzzled: "You sell pre-prepared meals here?"

She snapped back, voice high as if flustered:

"What's wrong with pre-prepared meals? Can't they be eaten after heating? We don't have the time to cook them fresh for you!"

I pointed at the restaurant sign: "It clearly says we cook only fresh produce. How dare you serve frozen pre-prepared dishes? Is that what your boss taught you?"

She put her hands on her hips and said arrogantly:

"I'm the owner of this place! You and this old woman are being picky. Aren't you just trying to get a free meal?"

"I'm telling you, this fish is non-refundable once it's opened. Including the electricity and stock for the freezer, you owe our restaurant three thousand dollars. If you don't pay today, don't even think about leaving this door!"

Three thousand dollars for a pre-prepared fish?

I wondered why Ethan had suddenly gone into the restaurant business. It turned out he was running a shady operation and supporting a mistress! I was about to call him when she reached him first:

"Honey, come to the restaurant! Two freeloaders are causing trouble here and trying to dine for free!"

——

As if Ethan had given her permission, she grew bolder and pointed at me and Mrs. Shaw, shouting:

"Are all the men in your family dead? You two, a stinking bitch and an old fool, are here to dine for free."

"This is a high-end place. Do you think scum like you deserve to be here?"

"My husband will be here soon. You're finished!"

Her sharp, overbearing voice caught the attention of every other diner. Many waitstaff gathered around, chiming in haughtily:

"I advise you to just pay the bill. Our owner is someone you can't afford to offend!"

"It's true. A few days ago, an influencer visited and had a spat with our owner. Our owner broke her leg and banned her online!"

"How many lives do you have? How dare you act so recklessly in our establishment?"

Mrs. Shaw had been quiet most of her life, and this was the first time she'd been publicly berated.

She went pale, clinging to the corner of my dress and whispering, "Wendy, did we come to the wrong restaurant? This can't be my son's place, right?"

Mrs. Shaw preferred to believe we'd come to the wrong place rather than suspect Ethan of infidelity, and certainly didn't think he would let a mistress overcharge customers.

That's right.

To us, Ethan Shaw was a decent man — honest, filial, and devoted to his wife.

A month earlier, despite being a prominent figure in the financial world, he had suddenly announced plans to open a high-end restaurant.

I asked him why. He said food safety issues were extremely serious these days, and he wanted to create a conscientious restaurant where everyone could eat with peace of mind.

He wanted to free ordinary people from having to eat two-year-old broccoli or frozen meat.

I was pleased by his righteousness and conscience.

I never expected he would invest so much money not to build a conscientious restaurant but to run a shady business and support a mistress! I pulled Mrs. Shaw behind me and said coldly to the woman before us:

"Alright, I'll see what your husband can do for us when he arrives."

At my words, the woman's face darkened. She glared and ground her teeth, saying:

"You bitch, how badly do you want to see my husband?"

The room fell into a hush; nearby tables whispered and stared, forks paused midair, phones were raised by curious diners, and the whole restaurant seemed to be waiting for Ethan's arrival.

She pointed at me and shouted, as if she had uncovered some great truth:

"I was wondering why some people still make such a fuss about pre-prepared meals these days. So you took advantage of my high-end restaurant and deliberately came here to provoke me, trying to seduce my husband!"

"Let me tell you, my husband is a loyal, good man. He wouldn't even look at a tramp like you who's been used by thousands of men!" Her voice was so loud it drew quite a crowd. In front of everyone, she pulled out her phone, recording as she berated me:

"Come on, everyone, look at this shameless bitch!"

"She dragged an old woman into my restaurant to eat, then complained that the food was pre-made and overpriced. She simply didn’t want to pay and planned to pay with her body!"

"Seeing me, the boss lady, around, she was too embarrassed to act and even said she had to wait for my husband to deal with this!"

"I'm posting her filthy face online right now, so everyone beware! Don’t let a bitch like her seduce your husband away!"

At her words, people around us began whispering:

"If you can’t afford to eat, then don’t go out. What’s the point of trying to embarrass the owner?"

"That’s right, this place is high-end. If you can’t afford it, why even walk in?"

"Offering your body for a meal? If you’re that desperate, just sell yourself. How dare you seduce another woman’s husband?!"

"You… you…" Mrs. Shaw hadn’t expected the boss lady to twist things so viciously. Her breathing turned rapidly, leaving her speechless. While rubbing her back to calm her, I pointed to the braised fish on the table and said, "We ordered braised fish, but it was frozen, straight from the freezer. You can still see the ice."

"She charged us three thousand for a pre-prepared dish like this!"

I turned to the woman coldly: "We’re protecting our consumer rights. If you can’t handle this, then let your husband come and talk to us!"

Seeing I dared to respond, she immediately ordered the waitstaff to surround us and said coldly, "I’m not afraid to tell you, this restaurant was given to me by my husband. I, Clara Lane, have the final say here. Whatever I say, you pay!"

"Don’t even bring up that I served you a pre-prepared meal. Even if I served you a pile of garbage, you’d still pay!"

"If you don’t settle the bill today and kneel down to apologize, you won’t be leaving this room!"

Clara Lane.

I froze slightly at the name. A while ago, my family received a package addressed to Clara Lane.

But the address had been my own home.

Out of curiosity, I opened it and found a set of extremely revealing lingerie.

I asked Ethan what was going on, but without a flicker of hesitation, he tossed the package into the trash, his expression calmly:

"It’s either a wrong delivery or just another marketing gimmick. I don’t care."

The truth I hadn’t seen before now surfaced with cruel clarity.

I looked at Clara coldly and said,

"I suggest you wait for Ethan to come over and let him explain personally who the two people standing here really are!"

Clara’s face darkened.

"Damn it, you bitch! You’re really after my husband! You even found out his name!"

Only then did Mrs. Shaw finally realize this truly was Ethan’s restaurant, and that the husband Clara was referring to was Ethan. But even now, she struggles to believe it.

"Little girl, I’m Ethan’s mother."

"Are you mistaken? There’s no way my son would fall for you, let alone your husband’s."

Smack!

As soon as she finished speaking, Clara Lane slapped Mrs. Shaw in the face:

"You old fool! You’re a country bumpkin who can’t even afford pre-made meals, and you still want to pretend to be my husband’s mother?"

"You’re worthy?"

Mrs. Shaw was elderly, and Clara’s powerful slap sent her crashing to the ground.

"Mom!"

I rushed over to help her.

When my father offered a lavish dowry and sought a son-in-law for me, countless people admired his reputation.

Only Ethan Shaw knelt at my door for three days and three nights, tearfully declaring he didn’t want any dowry.

He only begged me to save his seriously ill mother.

It was precisely because of his filial piety that I chose Ethan as my husband.

After we married, I hired the best medical experts to cure Mrs. Shaw’s illness. But after Clara’s blow, Mrs. Shaw, who had just recovered from a serious illness, turned pale. She clutched her chest tightly, her body curled in agony!

"Mom?"

My heart tightened, and I immediately hugged her.

"Mom, are you having heart problems?"

"Medicine! Where’s your medicine?"

Although Mrs. Shaw’s heart disease had been treated, her doctor warned that she couldn’t endure major stress, or her condition could relapse anytime. For that reason, she always carried fast-acting heart pills.

I frantically rummaged through her pockets until I finally found the small brown medicine bottle.

Just as I trembled, unscrewed the cap, and was about to pour out the pills to feed her, Clara stepped forward and snatched the medicine away.

"What’s this? You’re trying to dine for free, pretending to be my husband’s family won’t work, and now you’re faking an illness to scam me?"

"Do you really think you can get away with this?"

"Give me the medicine!"

I stood up and tried to grab it, but the waiters were all Clara’s friends and relatives. Without a word from her, they pinned me down.

My voice trembled with panic as I screamed at Clara:

"She’s really Ethan’s mother!"

"She’s having a heart attack. If she doesn’t take her medicine, she’ll die!"

I explained the seriousness of the situation, hoping Clara would come to her senses. Unexpectedly, she was completely unfazed and even sneered, "How dare you lie? My husband is a respected CEO, and this old woman, dressed in rags, is unworthy of being his mother?"

"What brainless fools! They can even lie this outrageously!"

Ethan’s father had died young, and Mrs. Shaw raised him alone.

To give her son the best life, she spent all her earnings on him, living a simple and frugal existence herself.

Even though Ethan and I bought her countless clothes, she refused to wear them.

Unexpectedly, this became Clara’s excuse to deny her identity.

Seeing Mrs. Shaw’s face turn from pale to ashen, I was distraught and quickly said, "Everything I said is true. She is Ethan’s mother, and I am Ethan’s wife."

"If you don’t believe me, call Ethan and ask him yourself!"

As I spoke, I struggled to rise and grab the medicine.

But the two male waiters pinned me down, refusing to let me move. Clara glared at me angrily, saying, "You’re getting more and more outrageous."

"One is pretending to be my husband’s mother, and the other is pretending to be Mrs. Shaw."

"Why don’t you take a piss and look at yourself? With your character, even if you stood naked in front of my husband, he wouldn’t want you!"