The Viral Mistress Hunt
After a decade of studying abroad, I returned to lead the Sterling Group as its new Chairwoman.
I never expected my mother—a woman who fancied herself a "doting wife" and exclusively referred to herself as "Princess"—to lead a mob of internet vigilantes from the "Anti-Homewrecker League" straight into our ancestral mansion.
Ignoring my warnings, they physically attacked me, punching and kicking while destroying antique jewelry worth hundreds of millions.
It wasn't until my father rushed over that the truth came out: he had changed his mistress's contact name to mine on his phone, just to keep his wife from getting suspicious.
I called the police immediately and texted my secretary.
"Publish the agreement revoking my grandmother's equity gift. I want Arthur Sterling off the board of directors."
"A failure pushing fifty who can't even get his own life together, and he still dares to drag my name through the mud!"
...
Since taking over the Sterling Group, I hadn't caught my breath for a solid month.
Just as I was finally settling down to rest at the ancestral mansion, my best friend sent me a livestream link.
"Victoria Sterling, your psycho mother is live-streaming her hunt for your dad's mistress. You have to watch this epic catfight."
That woke me up instantly.
The moment I clicked the link, the screen showed a large crowd of people pushing my mother forward.
She was wearing that familiar pink floral dress, her hair tied in two ponytails. Clutching a child's sippy cup, she wailed with her mouth wide open like a toddler. "Honey doesn't want his Princess anymore! I'm going to beat that bad homewrecker to death!"
The crowd chanted along with her, "Anti-Homewrecker League! Down with the mistress!"
The more I looked at the street in the video, the more familiar it seemed. Wasn't that the road right outside the ancestral mansion's gated community?
How dare my father keep a mistress so close to home?
Meanwhile, the comments on the livestream were scrolling rapidly.
"This is a seriously upscale neighborhood. This guy's really splurging on his side piece."
"There are mansions, and then there are regular apartments. Look at that woman's outfit—I bet her husband is broke."
"Every mistress cares about money."
"Let's just watch the show. I'm dying to see if this mistress is actually pretty. Heh."
"Host, hurry up and show us! A wife tearing apart a mistress should definitely hit the local trending searches."
The host, who was standing right beside my mother, finally spoke up. "Alright, folks, today isn't your ordinary mistress-catching. The mistress and the cheating husband actually share a blood relationship! Everyone, please drop a follow and send some likes. The big reveal is coming up soon!"
She made a point to emphasize that the connection was something no one could ever guess. "When we hit 50,000 likes, we'll reveal the identity of the mistress and then head straight to her place to deal with her!"
The comments flooded the screen even faster.
"Is it her husband and his own sister? Tsk, tsk."
"I'll bet anything it's his cousin. Honestly, it's a miracle if actual siblings don't hate each other."
"Why couldn't it be her husband and his sister-in-law?"
"They said a blood relationship. You clearly failed biology."
"You guys are too narrow-minded. Why can't it be a forbidden romance between brothers? Now I'm invested."
I found myself getting curious, too. My mother, the self-proclaimed "doting wife," had done so many bizarre things over the years that I genuinely couldn't figure out which relative would have anything to do with this unhinged couple.
When I was ten, my grandparents—who were deeply disappointed in my father and had previously kicked him out—finally relented. They invited us back to the ancestral mansion for the Spring Festival.
The moment my mother walked through the door, she shouted, "Mommy-sister, Daddy-brother, we're back!"
My grandparents were stunned speechless.
She pouted, pulled me in front of her, and cooed in a babyish voice, "Guess which one of us is your granddaughter?"
"You probably think it's me, right? You guessed wrong! Hehe. I'm your Princess daughter-in-law. Mommy-sister, Daddy-brother, why aren't you saying anything? Don't you like Princess?" Before they could even process the absurdity, she burst into tears like a toddler.
My father immediately wrapped his arms around her, soothing her gently. Then he turned and shouted at my grandparents, "You scared my Princess! Apologize to her!"
The Sterling family ran a colossal business empire, and my grandparents dealt with ruthless executives every day. Yet, seeing their own son behave this way left them trembling with rage.
The son they had once groomed to be their heir had disappointed them all over again.
My grandfather's face turned a deep red. He pointed at the door and roared, "Arthur Sterling, get out of here and take her with you!"
Seeing her precious husband being scolded, my mother lunged forward and began pummeling my grandfather. "You bad man!" she shrieked. "I'll beat you to death with my little fists! How dare you bully my dear husband, Princess's sweet husband!"
My grandfather had a heart attack on the spot.
"Hee hee, that's what you get for bullying my husband. You deserve to die." My mother stuck her tongue out like a three-year-old before my father quickly dragged her away.
My grandmother, the butler, and I rushed him to the hospital.
A notification chime from my computer pulled me back to the present.
"Ms. Sterling, here is an urgent new document. Please take a look."