In a tempest of fury, Stella ravaged the painting, shredding them into oblivion. With a defiant flourish, she doused the remnants in graffiti spray paint, defacing what was once a masterpiece.
Amidst the chaos, a keen-eyed connoisseur stooped to gather the tattered fragments. His voice trembled with reverence as he whispered, "This, I believe, is the work of Van Gogh. Were it to grace the auction block, it would command a starting bid of a staggering 100 million dollars."
The revelation struck Stella like a thunderbolt, freezing her in her tracks. Beads of sweat formed on her brow as she grappled with the enormity of her actions. The realization that a mere stroke of her hand could have obliterated over 100 million dollars left her reeling.
"Ms. Carter, don't be afraid. These treasures were acquired with the funds of your boyfriend. Is not his wealth yours? Why should you be worried about damaging your things?"
This exchange elicited a sardonic chuckle from me.
After all, Howard was hardly a paragon of wealth. Even if he were entrusted with a subsidiary company, his incompetence would render it worthless, its market value a mere fraction of the artwork's worth.
Were it not for our marital bond, I would have long since fired him.
Stella, however, remained moved.
"My boyfriend's wealth is mine, and thus, his acquisitions are my domain. If I choose to destroy what is mine, what business is it of yours? Destroy it all!" Stella commanded.
At her bidding, the mob surged forward. Their frenzy intensified as if fueled by a potent elixir.
Not a single vase, antique, or piece of jewelry was spared.
They lifted them and hurled them to the ground, where they shattered into countless fragments.
One by one, they slashed at the Chanel dresses and Hermès bags with scissors.
They were like robbers entering my villa.
The once-pristine villa was transformed into a battlefield of shattered dreams and broken treasures.
It was futile to appeal to reason with these vengeful souls. As their ire reached a crescendo, I resigned myself to the inevitable and dialed the police.
Yet, before the call could connect, a vigilant spectator lunged forward, wresting my phone from my grasp and shattering it on the ground.
"You dare to call the police? How audacious of you, a mistress who hides in the shadows!"
"From the moment you embraced this role, you should have foreseen the retribution that would follow."
"That's right! Don't delude yourself into thinking that being a mistress is beyond reproach. We, the arbiters of the digital realm, are the executioners of justice to punish you!"
The audience erupted in a frenzy of approval. The comments section was awash with exclamations of "Thrilling!" and "Bravo!"
[This is how you punish a mistress. It's really cool!]
I settled my gaze on the broken phone and the frenzied mob. I spoke with a calm that belied the turmoil within, "Enjoy your destruction. I only hope you'll be as pleased when the time comes to compensate for it, and let's see if you'll still be standing or if you'll be begging me for mercy."
Undeterred by my warnings, they redoubled their efforts, and their excitement fueled the destruction.
Someone took it upon themselves to destroy the antiques I had cherished for years and kept safe in my locker, reducing both the treasures and the locker to unrecognizable states.
Their fervor only grew as they continued their rampage, pausing only to engage with the audience watching the live broadcast.
"Guys, does this not bring you solace? Does it bring you joy?"
"A woman who barters her dignity for wealth dares to hoard such treasures."
"She doesn't deserve these treasures!"
"Keep watching, everyone. Your attention fuels our quest for justice, turning this bitch's home into the garbage dump she deserves."
I watched as this pack of rabid wolves destroyed everything in their path, making no move to stop them.
Instead, I cast a glance at the security cameras scattered throughout the house, knowing that their every act of vandalism was being recorded.
The time would come for them to pay the price for their madness.
"Let's make sure we haven't missed anything. This mistress shouldn't be left with anything of value."
They marched into my bedroom to ransack the bedside table.
"Look what we've found!"
Someone emerged from the bedroom with a sandalwood box in hand.
At the sight of it, my expression shifted. "Don't you dare touch that."
As my sudden tension became apparent, Stella sneered, "Changed your tune, have you? Just moments ago, you were so brazen. Are you trembling now?"
The hosts were emboldened by her confidence. "Guys, this mistress has finally shown her fear. It seems the contents of this box are of great value!"
"What could be hidden within?"
They speculated, and their excitement mounted as if they had unearthed a treasure trove.
The audience in the live broadcast room buzzed with fervor. Their curiosity was piqued to its zenith.
I spoke with caution, "There is nothing of value within, but it holds great significance to me. You must not touch it."
As I uttered these words, I stepped forward, intent on seizing the sandalwood box.
Yet, Stella was swift; she snatched the box and flung it open, revealing a pearl necklace nestled quietly inside.
"I thought it might be something grand. Just a pearl necklace!"
Stella scoffed, dangling the necklace with disdain.
"Give it back to me!"
I rushed over nervously.
That necklace was a labor of love crafted by my mother and me. We painstakingly gathered each pearl and meticulously strung them together.
My mother wore it until her final breath, so it was the last tangible piece of her I had left.
It was invaluable not for its material worth but for the immeasurable sentiments and memories it encapsulated.
I could endure the loss of all else, but not this necklace.
I would never allow anyone to break it.
Before I could close the gap, Stella yanked the necklace with force.
A sharp snap echoed as the strand broke.
Pearls were scattered across the floor.
The mob stomped over the scattered pearls, crushing them beneath their feet.
"No!"
I witnessed the obliteration of my mother's final legacy.
My heart shattered, and tears streamed uncontrollably.
It was the second time I had wept; the first was at my mother's funeral.
"Look! The bitch is crying!"
"Did you not foresee this fate when you shamelessly embraced your role as a mistress?"
"Do not presume that your actions go unpunished merely because the law does not address your kind. Remember, we, the righteous online judges, are here!"
With reddened eyes, I fixed my gaze upon these frenzied souls and spoke with icy resolve, "You will rue this day."
Faced with my threats, they erupted in laughter.
A host even thrust the camera close to my face.
"Guys, this is the consequence of becoming a mistress!"
"With our intervention, no mistress can escape the lesson we impart. That's why we, Alliance for Punishing Mistresses, exist!"
"Observe her now. She was unable to retaliate against us. All she can muster is a futile rage."
The live chat exploded with a flurry of comments and gifts, the screen awash with virtual celebrations.
The hosts were basking in their triumph and prepared to depart with Stella. Their smiles were so broad that they threatened to distort their features.
At that moment, several police officers suddenly entered through the gate.
"The property manager reported that the red alert system was activated here. What happened here?"
I stepped forward with a steady and deliberate voice, "Sir, these individuals unlawfully entered my home, spread malicious rumors, defamed my character, and physically assaulted me. Furthermore, they have wantonly destroyed luxury items worth millions of dollars, along with priceless antique paintings valued in the hundreds of millions of dollars. I will not entertain any form of mediation in this matter. I demand that justice be served impartially."
