Crueler Than Stepmother

The moment the pregnant woman showed up at my door to stake her claim, I let out a slow, quiet breath.
No one knew how long I had been waiting for this day.
Her eyes, dripping with contempt, scanned me from head to toe. Adrian loves
I cut her off with a swift raise of my hand. He loves you. I know.
In the next second, I pushed a wheelchair out from behind me.
"Which is why she is now your problem."
The womans face went bone-white. "No! That's impossible! Adrian told me his mother died years ago!"
I waved a dismissive hand. "You misunderstand. This is his father's mistress."

1
The woman stared, utterly baffled. "Are are you insane? What does his father's mistress have to do with you?"
I nodded in agreement. "You're right, she has nothing to do with me. But now, she has everything to do with you."
I pulled the divorce papers from a folder and tucked them neatly into the collar of her shirt. "From now on, you'll be responsible for this woman's medical bills, caregiver fees, and living expenses. Oh, and child support for my daughter and me."
Without another word, I grabbed my packed suitcase and strode to the door. The pregnant woman was too stunned to even react.
Ever since I'd found out about her, Id been plotting my counterattack.
His money? No, Adrian had moved all his assets long ago.
His guilt? No, a man with no morals is incapable of guilt.
"You stop right there!" she shrieked, finally finding her voice. "Why are you dumping his father's old mistress on me?"
"Because Adrian loves you," I called back, my hand on the doorknob. "You won the prize. You're the new lady of the house now!"
The door slammed shut with a satisfying thud.
I exhaled a long, heavy breath.
The security lock on that door required a fingerprint to open from either side.
She wasn't getting out.
She wanted to force me out? I just saved her the trouble.
My phone buzzed the moment I stepped into the elevator.
It was Adrian.
I quickened my pace. I had just messed with his precious new love; he wouldn't let this go.
Over thirty missed calls. I answered none of them.
A text message followed immediately: "You have thirty minutes to get your ass back home and give me a reasonable explanation!"
An explanation?
"There's nothing to explain," I typed back. "What goes around comes around. A stepmother is still a mother. It'll be a beautiful story for the papers: your new love taking care of your father's old love!"
When we first got married, Adrian told me about his tragic childhood. His father's mistress had moved into their home when he was fifteen, driving his mother to suicide. He swore he hated that adulterous pair with every fiber of his being.
But fate has a way of balancing the scales.
Less than two years later, his scumbag father died suddenly after a night of heavy drinking. And the stepmother, the one who had tearfully promised to take care of him, vanished overnight, taking every penny the family had. All that was left was the house that had belonged to his mother before the marriage.
I thought my love could heal the scars of his past.
Only now did I understand.
He became the very man he swore he hated: his father.
"What the hell are you talking about?" his angry reply came. "What does this have to do with Chloe? Why should she have to take care of that bitch?"
His rage bled through every word.
I replied instantly: "Because she loves you. Because she's your soulmate. Because she isn't with you for your money, she just wants a simple life with you."
If their love was that pure, what was a little sacrifice?
I had once tearfully asked him why. Why, when he hated cheaters more than anything, was he walking down his father's path?
He was silent for a long time before delivering an answer that pierced my heart.
"You're a good woman, Ava. But Chloe she makes my heart race. When I'm with her, I feel like all my hard work means something. I finally understand now that you can't force love. I I finally understand my father."
Looking at his shameless face, my world went dark.
He said he understood his father. Understood the irresistible pull of "true love."
But he had forgotten his own mother, who had thrown herself from a building.
Of course.
A son can never truly empathize with his mother.
But he will always find a way to excuse his father's sins.
Since you understand your father so well, Adrian, allow me to help you relive the pain you've so conveniently forgotten.

2
Adrian ran a small company. I had no idea what he actually earned. For the first few years of our marriage, he gave me a fixed amount for household expenses every month. But after that woman started working for him, he changed. He was constantly complaining about the business failing.
He mortgaged our homehis pre-marital propertyfor $280,000 to get a cash injection.
And I was the guarantor.
It only got worse from there.
Business was bad, so he canceled our daughter's extracurricular classes.
Business was bad, so he cut off all financial support for the family.
"Business is bad" became his universal shield.
And yet, his mistress was always dressed in designer clothes, a picture of wealth and leisure.
Only my daughter and I were part of the slowly collapsing world he was leaving behind.
I couldn't just wait for the inevitable. One day, he would kick us to the curb.
A plan began to form in my mind.
It went more smoothly than I ever could have imagined. His father and the mistress had never officially divorced. After some digging, I found her.
Seeing her in person was a shock.
She was covered in a roadmap of strange scars, as thin as a skeleton. Her medical report listed a host of infectious and chronic diseases. It seemed her life after running away with the money hadn't been easy.
She studied me, a flicker of cunning in her clouded eyes. "You're you're Adrian's wife?"
I didn't answer. For women like her, I felt nothing but a deep, visceral hatred.
Legally, she was Adrian's stepmother. Matrimonially, she was his father's spouse. So when the local social services agency failed to get a response from Adrian, they delivered the old woman directly to our door.
I completed the paperwork as quickly as possible.
The moment she was inside, her dull eyes lit up. She wheeled herself around the apartment, her gaze sweeping over everything as if she were already preparing to take her place as the new matriarch.
What she didn't know was that Adrian hadn't set foot in this home in over six months.
Still, I took excellent care of her. I raised money for her treatments.
After all, the best punishment for a mistress is to let her reap what she sowed.
She thought she was coming to claim her throne.
She had no idea she was just coming to take out the trash.

3
I pulled out my phone and opened the live feed from the security cameras at home.
Adrian was back.
He looked completely bewildered. The pregnant woman was sobbing in his arms, while the woman in the wheelchair was wailing, slumped over the armrests.
Adrian just kept pinching the bridge of his nose.
Soon, a second text arrived: "Ava, don't think you can control me by bringing this woman back. Drop your pathetic little schemes. I was going to give you a decent settlement, but now, I see you don't deserve a damn thing."
A small smile played on my lips. "You're overthinking it. We'll talk about settlements later. For now, you need to pay off the medical and caregiver bills that woman has racked up. All the invoices are clipped to the divorce papers."
On the camera feed, Adrian slowly began to flip through the stack of documents. His expression twisted into a mask of rage.
"Late-stage syphilis?"
"AHH"
The woman beside him shot up from the couch. "What did you say? Who has late-stage syphilis?"
Yes.
That was the real reason social services had brought her to us. No nursing home would take her, the hospital wouldn't keep her, and nine out of her last eight caregivers had quit. The only option left was direct family care.
So, you see, I was looking forward to this day even more than she was.
"All of your mother's expenses during this time were covered by personal loans," I texted. "The total is 0-02,000. Please settle it as soon as possible."
On screen, Adrian kicked the coffee table, sending it flying.
Glass shattered. The two women shrieked in unison.
The woman in the wheelchair flinched, and a dark puddle began to form beneath her, dripping down her pant leg.
No one moved.
The pregnant woman caught the smell, gagged, and threw up. A moment later, she grabbed her purse and ran.
Adrian followed right behind her.
I kept my eyes on the woman in the wheelchair.
Just as I expected, she shakily pulled out her phone.
The people from social services had instructed her very carefully. If her children refused to support her, she could call the police. The police would charge Adrian with abandonment.
For the past few weeks, her threats were all I heard:
"If you don't get me the imported medicine, I'll sue you!"
"If you don't hire me a caregiver, I'll sue you!"
"If you don't cook me decent meals, I'll sue you!"
To prepare for today's performance, I had catered to her every whim. The expensive supplements in her bowl, the gold jewelry on her wristsall of it fed her confidence and her greed.
"Hello? Police?" her voice crackled through the monitor. "My son and daughter-in-law have abandoned me, a sick old woman, to die at home! I want to press charges!"
Two hours later, Adrian was escorted back by two police officers.
The once proud and arrogant man now looked like a beaten dog. He collapsed by the door, digging his fingers deep into his hair.
"Mr. Hayes," one of the officers said sternly, "abandoning a seriously ill relative is a criminal offense. We expect you to resolve this family matter appropriately. If we receive another call, we will be forced to file a formal case."
And what about the pregnant Chloe?
Legally, Adrian had no obligation to her.
But this womanthe one who stole his family's money and drove his mother to her deathhe was legally bound to support her for life.
That's the law.
I used his own weapon against him. I used his responsibilities to block his path to "true love."
He finally understood his father, did he?
Then in the dead of night, he could explain to his mother's ghost just how noble this inherited "true love" of theirs truly was.
The wheelchair rolled over. The stepmother reached out a hand, her face devoid of any remorse. "Adrian, sweetie, why dwell on the past? Mommy's back now, isn't she? That Chloe girl, she's not the reliable type. Listen to me, Ava is much easier to handle. You need to go get her back."
"Shut your mouth!" Adrian shot up. "When you ran off with all that money, did you ever stop to think if I would starve to death? Now that you're sick and have nowhere else to go, you remember you have a son? Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?"
Seeing his resolve, the woman just shrugged. "Fine. If you want to disown me, I have nothing to say. But I'm still your mother. I raised you for two years, so you have to support me for life! I don't like that Chloe bitch. Get Ava back here now!"
She wheeled herself into the master bedroom and slammed the door.
My phone buzzed again with a message from Adrian: "You brought her here, you deal with her! I don't have time for your drama. This has nothing to do with Chloe. She has no obligation to be involved!"

4
See?
That is the calculation of a scumbag.
To him, marriage is a game to be exploited. He found the perfect loophole.
Let Chloe, in the name of true love, enjoy all the benefits.
And let me, in the name of duty, bear all the risks.
Social services, just doing their job, delivered the foul-smelling woman right to my doorstep. The entire world seemed to be conspiring with him to screw over his wife.
He wasn't stupid. Not at all.
He knew exactly how to use the shackles of marriage to legally plunder the person sleeping next to him.
I sent him the 0-02,000 bill again. "Pay your debt. This was for your mother's treatment."
His call came instantly. "I'll say it again, that woman is not my mother! She's a bitch, and I'm not paying a cent for her. You treated her without my consent, so that's your personal debt!"
He hung up.
A ringing filled my ears.
Fine. If that's how he wanted it.
I forwarded the recording of our call to his stepmother.
"Mona, you heard him. Adrian refuses to acknowledge this debt. That means the 0-02,000 is on you."
She panicked. "Ava, you know I don't have any money! If I had that kind of cash, I wouldn't be in this mess"
I cut her off. "You've forgotten. When Adrian's father passed, he left behind a house. You are the legal heir to 25% of it."
She was stunned. "A house?"
"Yes. It was his mother's personal property. After she died, Adrian and his father each inherited 50%. When his father died, his 50% was split between you and Adrian. That gives you 25% and Adrian 75%."
"Adrian would never recognize your share. You ran away with the money; to him, your claim is worthless. But if you sign that share over to me to cover the debt, it's a different story. Not only will I continue to pay for your future treatments, but your current debt will be wiped clean."
She was silent.
The only reason Adrian had held onto that old house was because his stepmother's disappearance had made it impossible to finalize the inheritance.
"Fine!" she texted back. "I'll sign! But you have to put it in writing that you will be responsible for my treatment! Don't let me end up homeless again!"
"You have my word."
The next day, after dropping my daughter at school, I went back and she signed the Debt Assumption Agreement. The entire process didn't require Adrian's consent.
That 25% property right was the first trophy in my war.
It came from the hands of a woman I despised, but in that moment, I truly believed: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
However, the debt I incurred was still legally marital debt.
Next, I moved Adrian's stepmother into a new rental apartment. Her infectious diseases meant I had to keep her isolated to protect my daughter. This new rent, just like her medical bills, became another clear marital debt in Adrian's name.
After all, I was fulfilling his legal duty.
Back at home, I began a systematic liquidation. I sold off any valuable items at a discount. The cash went to paying down the loans I'd taken out for her treatment.
Then, I listed the apartment for rent.
This house, which he'd bought before our marriage, brought in $4,500 a monthjust enough to cover his mother's ongoing expenses.
My parents started helping with my daughter's school runs.
You see, sometimes fate has a bitter sense of irony.
He thought he had set the rules of the game, and I was the player destined to be trapped.
But he forgot that rules are a double-edged sword.
He could build walls, but I could carve out an escape route.
With these maneuvers, I had turned the pile of liabilities he'd left me into a self-sustaining system.
After a few days of silence from me, he grew smug, assuming I had finally accepted my fate.
Until he tried to open his front door and found his fingerprint no longer worked. A strange tenant answered.
When he saw that every trace of me and our daughter had been erased from the home, real panic finally set in.
He called me frantically, but my phone was turned off.
Soon, a thick envelope arrived for him.
The first document was the Deed of Gift for the 25% share of the ancestral home.
I'd attached a sticky note: "Friendly reminder: No need to find her for a signature, the title has already been transferred. Awaiting partition. If you wish to sell, please consult with me."
Next was his stepmother's one-year lease agreement for $36,000, attached with a doctor's note recommending strict isolation.
Then came the caregiver contract, for 0-02,000 a month. The notes section read: "Specialized care for infectious diseases, high-risk hazard pay included."
Finally, there was a meticulously itemized Summary of Advanced Payments: medical bills, living expenses, nutritional supplements the total was staggering.
He threw the documents to the ground and roared in public.
"Ava! If I ever give you another damn cent, I'm a dog!"
Finally, he sued me for damages to his property.
He demanded I immediately cease my infringement and return his pre-marital property.
He demanded I return all rental income.
He demanded I pay all legal fees.
I checked the court date.
What a coincidence. His mistress was about to give birth.
A true double blessing.
Then let this trial be my wedding gift to them both.

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