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!"

The other servers chimed in, "That's right — our Clara is the real Mrs. Shaw."

"You're nothing but a country bumpkin. What right you have to compete with Clara for her husband? I've never seen anyone so shameless, trying to be a mistress."

"Clara, people like her deserve to be taught a lesson."

Clara Lane nodded, then looked at our table and dumped the plate of braised fish, still flecked with ice, onto the floor.

She ground it under her heel and said, voice dripping with contempt, "You told so many lies — aren't you just angling for medicine?"

"Fine."

"Kneel and finish this pre-cooked fish you complained about, and I'll give you the pills."

I shot Mrs. Shaw a desperate look; she lay curled on the floor. She met my eyes and croaked, "No..." Despite all she felt, she refused to see me humiliated on her behalf.

Even after Ethan betrayed her, she had always been gentle with me. She kept telling Ethan to treat me well and never wrong me, or she would disown him. To avoid bringing trouble to Ethan and me, she insisted on returning to her hometown to live alone, and no one could change her mind.

Whenever she visited, she arrived with a bag of local treats. She had always wanted a daughter; she treated me like the child she never had.

I watched as her breathing grew shallow and her face ashen. Without thinking, I dropped to my knees.

Bending forward and swallowing bile, I began to eat the fish, now mashed into fragments on the floor.

I set aside my dignity and everything else, willing to do whatever it took to keep her alive.

Clara pointed at me and crowed with triumph, "Hahaha! — look, doesn't she look like a dog?"

"She complained the fish was pre-made, and now see how she gobbles it down!"

The servers laughed, cruel and loud.

"Clara deserves to be Mrs. Shaw. She knows how to teach people a lesson."

Ignoring their taunts, I forced the fish down, mouthful by mouthful.

When I finally looked up, I pleaded, "I did what you asked. Now give me medicine."

Clara sneered, "Are you stupid enough to believe that?"

"I lied to you."

She tossed the medicine out the window into the ornamental pond. "No!"

I watched the bottle arc and sink. My chest broke open; tears streamed down my face.

At that instant, Mrs. Shaw trembled violently. Her eyes blurred. She stretched a trembling hand and wiped my cheek. "Wendy... I'm sorry."

Her apology sounded like penance — for my shame, or for Ethan's betrayal. Then her hand fell limply.

Her shallow breaths stopped.

"Mom? Wake up! Mom!"

I shook her, desperately, but she did not respond.

Mrs. Shaw was gone.

I never imagined a trip to Ethan's restaurant would end with a vicious woman like Clara killing her right here.

I howled. The restaurant manager knelt to check for breath, then shouted in alarm, "Clara — that old woman looks dead!"

"What now?" people cried.

Clara frowned, annoyed. "She insisted on coming to my restaurant to scam me. If she dies, that's her problem."

People around us froze; cutlery clinked in awkward silence, and phones recorded the scene. Someone called for help while another guest backed away, face pale. The chef peered from the kitchen, stunned, his apron still on. I wanted to scream, to demand justice, but I could only slump beside Mrs. Shaw’s body. Anger, helplessness, and shame swirled inside me. The manager, pale and shaken, fumbled to his phone and dialed the emergency number with trembling fingers, waiting.

"Besides, my husband is the president of the Prosperity Group. He has powerful backing. With him protecting me, what’s there to fear?"

Hearing this, the waiters, who had been tense a moment ago, breathed a sigh of relief.

Seeing Clara Lane’s arrogance, fury boiled inside me.

Summoning every ounce of strength, I leapt up and gripped her throat tightly.

"You monster, I’ll kill you!"

In that instant, I wanted to avenge Mrs. Shaw’s death!

"Damn it! How dare you touch our boss lady?"

One waiter shouted and kicked me.

The others rushed over, fists and feet pounding me. Blows rained down, knocking me to the floor.

Agony ripped through me, my whole body breaking apart, but Clara Lane wasn’t satisfied.

She coughed, clutching her throat. When she regained her breath, she glared at me.

"You bitch! No one has ever dared lay a hand on me. Today, I’ll show you the price!"

She snatched a knife and fork from the table.

With a vicious thrust, she stabbed them into my thigh.

Blood gushed out, searing pain tearing through me.

I didn’t scream. Instead, with red eyes, I shouted at her, "Clara Lane, you’re going to die. You’ll definitely die!"

"Still daring to threaten me?" she shrieked.

Furious, she stabbed me again and again, treating me like a target.

Just as I thought my life was ending, someone suddenly cried out:

"Boss Shaw is here!"