My Husband’s Mistress Didn’t Know Who She Was Slapping

At the Aurelia International Youth Violin Competition, someone had hidden steel needles in my daughter's violin and bow. Her fingers streaming blood, she lost her footing and fell from a railless platform thirty feet up. Both her hands and arms were shattered.

I ran to her like a madwoman, desperate to call an ambulance, but the other girl's mother had her people pin me to the floor.

"You stole my daughter's violin? This is what happens to thieves!" she sneered.

But that violin was the one my husband had specially commissioned for our daughter in Paris!

"Save my daughter first! We can sort out everything else later!" I fought with everything I had.

A slap cracked across my face.

"A worthless life. If she dies, she dies!"

"I'm the wife of Dawnfrost's CEO, Mr. Sterling. I can afford it!"

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

Yale Sterling? That was my husband.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Yale had the nerve to keep a mistress behind my back, and to let her spend my money to buy my daughter's life!

If I didn't tear you two apart piece by piece today, I'd have carried the name "Reaper of Wall Street" for twenty years for nothing.

Her blood-red nails jabbed at my face. "A broke nobody like you thinks she can steal from my daughter?"

"Gutter trash raising a little gutter brat who'll do anything for a buck!"

The onlookers crowded in fast.

"Well, that's it for her. Stealing from Mrs. Sterling? She'll lose everything."

"Like mother, like daughter. Serves them right."

I stared at the woman in front of me, my eyes burning.

The designer gown on her body was mine. The bag in her hand was mine. The diamond necklace at her throat was the anniversary gift Yale had given me just last week!

Even the bow in her daughter's hand was identical to my daughter's.

But this was no time to argue about any of that.

My daughter lay on the floor, soaked in blood, her slender arms twisted at horrible angles.

The blood had stained her white concert gown red. She looked like a broken swan.

Pinned down, I couldn't move. All I could do was whisper to her. "Dawnie..."

She forced her eyes open and lifted one trembling, bloodied hand, trying to wipe my tears. "Mommy... don't cry... it doesn't hurt..."

My chest felt like it was splitting open.

I looked at her hands. Her palms were soaked red, and a long steel needle had pushed clean through her fingertip.

Pale bone jutted through the skin of her slender forearms.

God, how much that must hurt!

I roared, "Get off me! Can't you see my daughter is dying? Do you really want a death on your hands?!"

Instead, the woman drove her foot into my stomach, her eyes vicious.

"What are you howling about? A worthless life. If she dies, she dies! I can afford it!"

"Dressed like the help, and you still dragged your daughter to a high-end competition like this? And you had the nerve to steal my daughter's violin?"

"Regretting it now? Too late!"

The event director, Howard Finch, sidled over, all smiles. "Do you know who this is? This is Mrs. Sterling, wife of Mr. Sterling at Dawnfrost Group. Ms. Eden Reyes! If you know what's good for you, get on your knees and admit you were wrong! Maybe she'll take pity and let you off!"

Mrs. Sterling? Eden Reyes?

What a joke.

All these years, I'd stayed behind the scenes. I'd cooked his dinners and pressed his shirts with my own hands and poured every bit of my love into the little everyday routines of our home.

And this woman was parading around in the gown I'd chosen, wearing my jewelry, flaunting the title of "Mrs. Sterling"!

Worse, she was about to use my money to buy my daughter's life.

I curled around my stomach, my voice shaking with pain. "Let me call an ambulance first!"

Eden slapped me across the face. "Get on your knees and beg for forgiveness! Keep begging until we say stop! Maybe then I'll have a car take your daughter to the hospital!"