Chapter 1

My husband spends every waking moment playing video games with his ten-year-old son, pulling all-nighters under the guise of bonding and educational entertainment, all just to escape actual parenting.

I confiscate my stepson's tablet and tell him to go do his homework. Holding a vicious grudge, the boy waits until I am in the shower and starts a livestream.

Holding his bruised arm up for the camera, he weeps like a victim in a tragedy, "Help! My stepmother is abusive. She starves me and throws me into a tiny dark room all day."

Instead of stopping his son, my husband stands on the side, fueling the fire with his passive-aggressive commentary. "Listen to the kid, everyone. This is the textbook definition of a toxic woman. Stepmother or not, how can anyone be this heartless?"

I have spent ten exhausting years raising that boy, only for them to broadcast me to the world as an abusive monster.

Watching the screen flood with comments cursing my name, I catch the smug look in my stepson's eyes. He is waiting for me to break down and beg for mercy.

At that exact moment, I decide to give them exactly what they wanted.

I yelled, "Since I'm such an 'evil stepmother,' let's make it official: this house, the cars, and every cent of this fortune are my premarital assets. Pack your bags and get the hell out. Now."

*****

Derek Lester yelled, "Officer, look at the boy. He is so terrified that he can barely speak. Do you really think a child could make this up?"

He crouched in the entryway, his rough hand gently stroking the back of Ben Lester's head.

Derek looked up at the two patrol officers who had just walked through the door. His eyes were rimmed with red as he rasped, "I understand that Helen Guy's corporate job came with a lot of pressure.

"I tried to be understanding. But no matter how stressed she is, she has no right to take it out on a child.

"Ben is only ten, right in the middle of his developmental years, but Helen cruelly locks him in a dark room and denies him dinner."

I stood in the center of the living room, gripping the towel I had just grabbed from the bathroom. Droplets of water slipped from the ends of my damp hair, soaking into the collar of my pajamas and sending a freezing chill down my spine.

I told them, "I did not abuse him."

I raised my chin, meeting the scrutinizing gaze of the officers.

I explained, "Ben has been up all night gaming. I simply confiscated his tablet and told him to finish his schoolwork."

"Mom, I am sorry. I promise I will never ask for dinner again. Please do not hit me." Ben suddenly let out a piercing shriek, burying his face into Derek's chest.

He pulled up the sleeve of his uniform shirt, revealing two dark, ugly bruises on his elbow.

One of the officers immediately tapped his body camera. "Ms. Guy, explain exactly how the child sustains those injuries."

I cast a cold glance at the bruises.

Ben had gotten those marks earlier that afternoon when he lunged at me to snatch the tablet back, losing his balance and hitting his arm against the corner of the study desk.

At the time, he had spit at my feet and called me a miserable old hag, wishing I would die in a ditch.

"He did that to himself," I said.

I stared down at Ben's young face. Beneath the fake tears, it was completely written with smug satisfaction.

Derek suddenly raised his voice. "Guys, are you hearing this? Listen to how she talks to him."

That was when I noticed his phone propped up on the shoe cabinet. The screen was lit up.

The live chat was scrolling at a blinding speed, and the like counter in the corner had already racked up tens of thousands of hearts.

He was streaming.

He had deliberately started a livestream the moment the police knocked on the door.

Derek looked directly into the lens, claiming, "My wife is a high-level executive making half a million a year. She treats our home like her own personal kingdom. Ben and I are terrified to even speak above a whisper around her."

He wiped away an entirely imaginary tear.

"I had no idea she was such a monster in private," he whispered. "Ben, it's okay. The police are here, and hundreds of thousands of people online are watching to keep you safe."

The chat completely erupted.

[Hell hath no fury like a wicked woman. Lock her up.]

[My heart bleeds for the crying boy. Once a stepmother, always a monster.]

[Expose her. Why is a monster like her still employed? Fire her now.]

I stared at Derek.

This was the man I had been married to for twelve years. He ate my food, lived in my house, and wore clothes I paid for. And now, he was butchering my reputation to build a monument for his pathetic clout.

"Turn off the stream, Derek," I said, taking a step forward.

"Ms. Guy, please control yourself," the officer said, stepping between us. "You need to come down to the precinct with us for questioning."

Ben stayed perfectly tucked inside Derek's embrace. He shot me a fleeting, mocking grimace, silently mouthing the word "loser" before turning his face away.