Chapter 4

My brain short-circuited. I whipped my head to look at Ethan.

He rushed onto the stage, grabbed a chair, and smashed the screen to pieces.

That video was taken on his birthday last year. He had begged me to record it for him.

He had sworn on his life that no one else would ever see it. Yet here it was, broadcasted in front of hundreds of guests.

Chloe burst into tears, stumbling back a few steps right next to the microphone.

She pointed at me, her shaking voice echoing through the speakers:

"So you're the one... you're the mistress who's been sending him explicit videos to seduce him!"

Every eye in the room turned on me like daggers.

"I didn't... mmph!"

A hand suddenly clamped tightly over my mouth from behind, dragging me backward.

Serena stepped up to the stage, bowing and apologizing to Chloe in front of everyone:

"I am so sorry, Chloe. I had no idea Natalie would be this psychotic. I can't believe she would play this kind of video at your wedding."

"As her friend, I apologize for her disgusting behavior and her cheap attempt to ruin your special day."

With that, she gave Chloe a deep bow.

That bow sealed my fate as the malicious mistress.

The whispers and curses of the guests flooded my ears like a tidal wave.

"So she's just a homewrecker making a scene. How disgusting."

"How shameless do you have to be to play that trash at a wedding?"

"Chloe has a heart condition! What if she has a heart attack? This woman is pure evil!"

I don't know who started it, but someone threw a plate of leftover food at me. Someone else kicked me in the legs during the chaos...

I was practically dragged out of the venue.

Serena ran out after me. She sighed, pulling some tissues from her bag to wipe the stains off my dress. "Natalie, it is what it is. Stop being so stubborn."

"Chloe isn't just anyone. Her family is the reason Ethan is getting on the board. You made a scene today, and with one phone call, the her family can make sure you never get a job in LA again."

"Everything I just did was for your own good."

"For my own good?" my voice was hoarse and broken. "You guys lied to me for three years, framed me as a mistress in public, and you call that 'for my own good'?"

Serena looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

I shook Tyler's hand off me, hailed a taxi, and got in.

When I arrived at my hotel, a crowd was already gathered near the entrance, pointing and whispering.

My face had been printed and pasted all over the hotel doors, alongside massive words painted in dripping red paint: [HOMEWRECKER GO TO HELL]

Within an hour, someone had uploaded the wedding video to TikTok. My real name, job, and address were leaked online.

The comment section was filled with venom.

My boss sent me a WhatsApp message: [Natalie, due to the recent public controversy regarding your personal life, the company has decided to suspend you pending further investigation.]

I clenched my teeth, apologized to the hotel staff, and grabbed a rag to scrub the paint off the door.

The paint was stubborn, refusing to come off.

I scrubbed until my fingernails cracked and bled against the metal doorframe.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

After a long time, exhausted from crying, I slumped against the wall and drifted into a restless sleep.

My dreams were chaotic.

Countless faces flashed by, finally stopping on the wedding stage.

Ethan was looking down at me as I was dragged out, his eyes completely indifferent.

I gasped, waking up from the nightmare.

I stared at the lock screen photo of Ethan and me for a long time.

Then, I stood up and opened my laptop.

Why?

Why should my five years of devotion be reduced to the word "homewrecker"?

Why should the liars live happily ever after while I was pinned to a pillar of shame, cursed by the world?

I did nothing wrong.

I wasn't going to take the blame.

I compiled all my chat logs, flight tickets, and bank transfers with Ethan over the past five years and posted them online.

Then, I booked the earliest flight back to New York, wanting to leave this cursed city.

But just as I packed my bags and got into a Uber, a voice whispered from the shadows like a demon:

"Natalie, why can't you just learn to be good?"