Who Is the Mistress"

The photos from my belated wedding photoshoot with my husband turned out so stunning that the studio featured them as a client showcase.

Two days later, my showcase photo was Photoshopped into a funeral portrait, and the bridal shop was swamped with online hate. What kind of reputable shop shoots wedding photos for a mistress?!

"My husband and I have been together for three years! And she's knowingly a home-wrecker! How dare she even get wedding photos taken!"

I rushed to the bridal shop, intending to clear things up, only to collide head-on with a woman. She pointed at me, shouting, "That's her! She seduced my boyfriend!"

"Today, I'm going to show all the netizens what happens to a mistress!"

Before I could explain, they started attacking me without a word. They shaved my head, slapped my face until it was paralyzed, broke two of my ribs, and I miscarried

As I lay dying, I called my assistant. "Cancel the wedding reception I was planning with Gabriel Maxwell! Also, find me a lawyer to file for divorce!"

A mere trophy husband, spending my money to support a mistress. I'll make him regret this!

Seeing the funeral portrait forwarded by a friend, my blood boiled. I immediately called the bridal shop. To my surprise, the manager on the other end sounded even more furious than I was. "Get over here right now and explain yourself to Mrs. Maxwell!"

Mrs. Maxwell?

Could there genuinely be another Mrs. Maxwell besides me?

Confused, I rushed to the shop. From a distance, I saw a large crowd gathered around the entrance.

The woman at the front spotted me and shrieked, "That's her! This vixen! She seduced my husband!"

The manager hurried to calm her. "Mrs. Maxwell! Mrs. Maxwell! Let's talk inside, calmly!"

"Mrs. Maxwell?" I eyed the woman warily. I didn't know her at all, so how could I have stolen her husband?

I forced down my anger, trying to sound calm. "Excuse me, do we know each other?"

A woman who came with her grabbed my hair without a word. "What are you pretending for? Who doesn't know Isabelle is the young madam of Maxwell Enterprises?!"

Isabelle? Could this be the 'junior colleague' Gabriel had sometimes mentioned?

I subconsciously asked, "You're Isabelle Hampton?"

She snorted, looking down, then raised her hand and slapped me. "Is the wife's name something a mistress like you can even utter?!"

It really was her...

All this time, Gabriel had told me Isabelle Hampton was an ambitious junior colleague with an unfortunate family background. Out of sympathy, I even suggested he help her more.

But I never imagined that Isabelle Hampton was actually his mistress, and he was spending my money on her!

Before I could fully process it, she grabbed my wrist and shrieked, "Oh, you! You even stole the Cartier bracelet my husband gave me!"

I looked at the bracelet on my wrist. It was clearly one I had bought myself, which had gone missing recently.

Could it be that Gabriel had been taking my own gifts to give to her?

I struggled, shaking free, and yanked off the bracelet. "This bracelet is mine! My initials, LSQ, are engraved inside. Look closely!"

She promptly smashed the bracelet to the ground, then stomped on it repeatedly. "Who's to say you didn't steal it and then secretly engrave it?!"

"A mistress like you, what could you possibly want from seducing someone's husband? Money, obviously!"

I was honestly infuriated to the point of laughter. "You say you're the wife. Are you legally married?!"

Hearing this, Isabelle pulled out her phone and showed several intimate photos of herself and Gabriel.

She scrolled through numerous photos: intimate selfies with Gabriel, love letters, and promises hed written to her.

Tears streamed down her face as she wailed, "Yes, we haven't officially registered our marriage, but we've been together for three years! We were already planning our wedding!"

"But that's no reason for you to interfere! You've ruined my family; you're nothing but a mistress!"

I stared at those photos, feeling a prickling sensation on my scalp, my vision blurring.

Gabriel, who always appeared cool and restrained in front of me, had taken such photos and written such declarations of love for her.

Married for five years, betrayed for three. It was utterly laughable.

Seeing more and more onlookers gather, the manager grew anxious. She grabbed me, pulling me into the shop, lowering her voice. "Miss Lee! Just admit it! Apologize to Mrs. Maxwell!"

"If you keep this up, our decades-old brand will be ruined by you!"

"What?!" I violently shook off the manager's grasp, staring at her in disbelief. "I'm your customer, aren't I?"

"Not only did I purchase your most expensive package, but I also referred many friends to you. Is this appropriate?"

The manager quickly let go of my hand, shaking her head and waving at Isabelle, a look of disdain on her face. "Mrs. Maxwell! Don't listen to her! Our shop doesn't welcome mistresses like her as customers. If you hadn't found us, we wouldn't have known she was such a person!"

The people around us all raised their phones, whispering, "How shameless! Are mistresses always so arrogant?"

"Even if they're not legally married, you can't so blatantly destroy someone else's family! You act like being a mistress gives you some kind of superiority!"

A wave of injustice washed over me. I quickly explained, "No! Don't listen to her one-sided story! Based on just a few photos, how can you assume I'm a mistress?!"

"Gabriel Maxwell and I have been married for five years! I'm not a mistress! If you don't believe me, I'll call him over right now!"

Saying this, I picked up my phone, ready to make Gabriel come and clarify everything.

But Isabelle snatched my phone, scoffing, "Lie, keep lying! Married for five years? And only now getting wedding photos? Who are you trying to fool?!"

I froze, looking at her, and retorted, "Is it forbidden to take wedding photos after five years of marriage?"

When Gabriel and I got married, he was just an ordinary employee, penniless. There were no traditional wedding gifts or dowry, let alone wedding photos or a reception.

This year was our fifth anniversary, and it was his idea to make up for all the missing ceremonies.

I had been so touched, believing his love for me was as strong as ever. But now, it seemed I had been foolish.

My retort made Isabelle stumble. The woman next to her shoved me, sharply admonishing, "What is your attitude?!"

Seeing this, the manager quickly stepped in, pulling them back, a forced smile on her face as she spoke to Isabelle. "Mrs. Maxwell, please calm down! I'm a victim here too! I will definitely sue this woman, make her compensate my losses, and restore our shop's reputation!"

She took Isabelle's hand, trying to coax her into the shop. "Please don't be angry, let's go inside and talk calmly..."

I felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat. The manager had turned against me so quickly, probably because Maxwell Enterprises also had an investment in this shop.

But what they didn't know was that Maxwell Enterprises owed its existence to me!

Without me, Clarissa Lee, there would be no Maxwell Enterprises!

Before the manager could finish, Isabelle raised her phone high, started a live stream, and shouted into the camera, "Everyone, look at this bridal shop! They're actually using a mistress's wedding photos with my husband for their showcase! This is absolutely outrageous!"

She pointed at me, accusing hysterically, "And this woman! She's ruining my relationship with my husband, she's unrepentant, and she's still trying to argue! How shameless!"

The woman next to her chimed in, "She even lies, saying she's been married to someone else's husband for five years! What a joke!"

"A vixen like her should be exposed for everyone to see!"

The live stream instantly flooded with viewers. Swayed by Isabelle's inflammatory remarks, they quickly filled the comments section: [What are you waiting for? Why aren't you hitting her?!]

[This woman clearly had plastic surgery. If it were me, I'd beat her until her own mother wouldn't recognize her!]

My heart sank. Seizing a moment when they weren't looking, I snatched back my phone and quickly dialed 911.

However, Isabelle was quick. She slapped my phone to the ground, yelling, "You dare call the police?!"

Seeing them rolling up their sleeves, I had to explain again. "Gabriel Maxwell and I have been married for five years! We have a marriage certificate! If you feel wronged, you should question Gabriel, not me!"

Isabelle ignored my explanation, picking up my phone and smashing it against my face. A sharp pain, and then warm liquid streamed down my cheek.

The surrounding crowd gasped. I lay on the ground, my vision blurry.

She poked my temple hard with her finger, sneering, "My husband was just playing around with you! Did you actually take it seriously?!"

"You're at death's door, and you still dare to use my husband to scare me! Beat her!"

With that, I was brutally kicked and pinned to the ground, unable to move. Isabelle's hand repeatedly struck my face, each slap echoing loudly.

I barely opened my mouth to speak, only to be struck again, forcing out a whimper.

Just then, a sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. I instinctively clutched my stomach. "Oh no..."

I looked at the manager, pleading for help, but she only stood by, clucking, "You were so sickeningly sweet and seductive that day; no wonder Mr. Maxwell was so affectionate, even willing to do an eighty-thousand-dollar wedding photoshoot with you."

"I thought you were some rich lady, but you're just a vulgar gold-digger!"

"If you knew you'd get what was coming to you from the wife, why did you break up their family in the first place?"

Isabelle's face darkened further hearing this. She stood up, repeatedly stomping on my back with her high heels. I felt like every bone in my body was shattering.

Tears welled in my eyes, only making her more excited. She crouched down in front of me, her sharp acrylic nails scratching my face, cursing, "An eighty-thousand-dollar wedding photoshoot?! You really have the nerve to demand that!"

"I think someone like you isn't even worth eighty cents!"

The manager glanced at my face, then sidled up to Isabelle, fawning, "Mrs. Maxwell, don't worry, the security camera at our shop entrance just happened to be broken. I'll also testify for you that this mistress provoked you first..."

"But please, be lenient and clarify for our shop online. We had no idea she was a vixen; we're victims too!"

Isabelle didn't even glance at her. Instead, she grabbed my hair. "You shameless woman, stealing my bracelet is bad enough, but you even dare to copy my hairstyle!"

"Shave her head for me now! Let's see how she'll seduce other women's husbands after this!"

This long hair, I had grown it for Gabriel. He once said he liked long, wavy hair, and I immediately changed from my previous short haircut, keeping it for two whole years.

Now, looking back, wasn't Isabelles hair long and wavy?

It turned out, from beginning to end, I was just a clown.

The woman next to her grabbed a pair of scissors from the shop and aimed for my head. I trembled with fear but dared not move, terrified she would injure me.

I glared at Isabelle, shouting, "If you do this to me, Gabriel Maxwell will not let you get away with it!"

Isabelle, as if hearing a joke, threw her head back and laughed. "Who doesn't know my husband dotes on me fiercely?! Do you think he'll do anything to me for a vixen like you?!"

The words had barely left her lips when my hair was severed.

She didn't hold back; my vision blurred, and I could only lie weakly on the ground, muttering, "Call the police..."

Finally, a kind passerby, unable to watch any longer, called for help.

Isabelle also called Gabriel. She deliberately put him on speaker, her voice sickly sweet. "Honey! That vixen who keeps imitating me and trying to seduce you, I caught her today!"

"But she actually dared to call the police! Honey, you need to come and teach her a lesson!"

I yelled into her phone, "Gabriel Maxwell... we're over...!"

Gabriel, hearing my voice on the other end, sounded panicked. He quickly said, "Where are you? I'm coming right away!"

Hanging up, Isabelle looked triumphant. "Just watch, my husband will definitely leave you!"

Just then, officers rushed in. Seeing my state, they were shocked and immediately rushed me to the hospital. As soon as I got into the car, I eagerly opened my phone, completely ignoring the dozens of messages and missed calls from Gabriel. Instead, I called my assistant. "Cancel the wedding reception I was planning with Gabriel Maxwell! Also, find me a lawyer to file for divorce!"

He's nothing but a decorative vase. Once he's tainted, I don't want him!