Mom, why is there an outsider in this house?”
A sharp, grating voice came from the doorway.
Just like in my previous life, today was the day Judith brought the mistress into the house I had lived in for five years.
Helen stood there with a proud expression, deliberately sticking out her pregnant belly for me to see.
“Helen, this woman knows no shame, clinging to this house like a piece of gum that won’t peel off.”
“I haven’t divorced your son yet. This is my house,” I said coldly.
“You’re still hanging around? My son already said he doesn’t want you anymore. If you had any shame, you’d pack your bags and give way to my future daughter-in-law.”
I ignored her and continued eating breakfast. Seeing that I wasn’t responding, Judith slapped my bread and milk off the table.
She reached out to hit me, but I shot up from my chair, slapping her face with a resounding smack.
The sound echoed through the room, and she staggered, nearly losing her balance.
This slap was long overdue. Let her feel the sting on her face for once.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You’re about to say that because I haven’t gotten pregnant in five years, I’m a useless woman and should leave, right? Well, let me tell you this. the little ‘empire’ of the Clinton family will be squandered in no time, and the grandson you’re so eager to have will inherit nothing but mountains of debt.”
Helen, supporting the enraged old woman, looked stunned. She hadn’t expected me to be so fierce, unlike the meek and timid woman they had described.
She opened her mouth to speak, but I shut her down immediately.
“If you love a married man so much then you can have him. I don’t care.”
Turning around, I saw Rick standing behind me.
I had been so focused on dealing with the two of them that I had forgotten about him.
“Rick,” I said, glaring at him. “I haven’t even signed the divorce papers yet, and you’re already bringing someone into our home? If I refuse to divorce you, are you planning to kill me again?”
I sighed, lamenting how blind I had been in my previous life. Only after dying once had I seen Rick’s true colors.
“Divorce is fine,” I continued, “but I won’t leave without my rightful share of the assets. Don’t expect me to go quietly.”
Rick crossed his arms, his expression smug. “Every cent in this house was earned by me. What makes you think you deserve any of it?”
I pulled out all the evidence I had gathered—photos, bank records, hotel receipts, and recordings.
“You had an affair with your secretary during our marriage. I have proof. If the entire company finds out, do you think they’ll keep someone with questionable ethics in an executive position?”
