Forced to Watch My Son Call Her 'Mom' - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

My mother-in-law's face lit up like a Christmas tree, her grin so wide it looked like it might split her face in two.
Meanwhile, the crowd couldn't stop gushing over Erin—how stunning she was, how talented, how utterly perfect. And then there was me, the sloppy afterthought they couldn't resist comparing her to.
She lounged in Victor's arms like she owned the place, basking in Frank calling her Mom, soaking up every bit of the life that should've been mine.
Then, right in front of everyone, they kissed—bold, unashamed, like I wasn't even there.
Victor gazed at her like she hung the moon. "Erin, you will always be the love of my life."
The words stabbed straight through my chest.
When they finally pulled apart, they clung to each other like some picture-perfect couple, leaving me standing there like a ghost in my own life.
Then, out of nowhere, someone piped up: "You know… the more I look at Frank, the more he resembles Erin. Could it be…?"
The room went still. All eyes flicked between me, Frank, and Erin.
"I always wondered why Frank didn't look like Liane. Now it makes sense—he's Erin's!"
"Congratulations! The family's finally whole!"
My heart lurched. A memory from the delivery room slammed into me—Victor bringing a woman in right after I gave birth. Back then, he'd lied, called her his sister. But now, I knew. It was Erin.
He'd taken my son before I'd even held him.
Sixteen years. Sixteen years of lies.
A wave of icy terror crashed over me—followed by white-hot rage.
I'd stayed quiet before because I loved him. But this? This was too much.
"Victor," I snapped, voice shaking. "Have you forgotten how she even got this company?"
"And news flash—I'm still your wife. Does it not even hurt you to treat me like this?"
The room went dead silent.
Then came the laughter—cruel, mocking.
"Pathetic. She's divorced and still can't let go!"
"Look at her—jealous because Victor's happy now!"
My mother-in-law's glare could've melted steel. "You used to hit my son, scream at him. Now that he's free, you can't stand it. What more do you want?"
My throat tightened. "Mom, you know I'm still—"
"Shut up!" she spat. "My son has one wife—Erin. Know your place, or get out!"
The crowd turned on me like wolves.
"Disgusting! Who does she think she is?"
"Look at her—she's delusional if she thinks she deserves him!"
Frank sneered from the sidelines. "Dad never should've married her. She's nothing to us. Throw her out!"
The mob surged forward, hands shoving, voices roaring.
Then Erin lunged—smack—her palm cracked across my face.
"Liane," she hissed, "I gave you a job out of pity. And this is how you repay me?"
Someone shoved me hard—my skull hit the doorframe with a sickening crack. Blood trickled down my temple.
The crowd finally froze.
I dragged myself out of that hellhole, every bruise screaming—but nothing hurt more than the betrayal carving through my chest.