Chapter 4
After Sandra finished her rant, she dropped a live stream link right into the group chat.
When I clicked in, sure enough, Sandra was front and center, crying her lungs out for the whole internet.
She wailed that my nightly screaming was making her daughter grow up too fast, and claimed her girl had almost been lured into a nightclub to sleep with some stranger because of her.
She painted herself as a righteous mom fighting for her daughter's justice, saying she was only calling me out in the group for her kid's sake, but now everyone was accusing her of extortion.
Sandra's sobs were so dramatic, she looked like a mother pushed to the edge, ready to do anything for her precious daughter.
The viewers in her stream, clueless about the real story, got whipped up in a frenzy and started cheering Sandra on.
One wrote: [Why waste words on a woman like that? Kick her out of the neighborhood and make her hand over her house as compensation.]
Another wrote: [Honestly, she might be some trophy wife living off her husband, but for all we know, she could be the mistress. Streamer, expose her identity. If she's really the side chick, she'll be a lot easier to deal with.]
Sandra "accidentally" let my personal info slip out on the stream, acting all innocent while she doxxed me for her fans.
Within five minutes, every bit of my info was dug up and plastered online. My company was bombarded with thousands of complaints overnight.
The deal I'd spent a week negotiating on my business trip? The client saw the drama and immediately pulled the plug.
My phone blew up with calls from employees, all panicking and asking what was going on and how we were supposed to handle the PR disaster.
I told them, "Save every shred of evidence. Get legal ready to sue."
After replying to my team, I scrambled to call every client one by one, barely able to keep up with the online chaos.
I managed to reach all the clients.
Finally, the car rolled up to the neighborhood gate.
My best friend messaged me. The timeline and evidence of Michael's cheating were locked and loaded.
I took a deep breath, watching the sky turn gray outside, then dropped a message in the group chat.
"I know you're all here for the show. I'm downstairs now. If you're still awake, come join me and let's catch the cheaters together."
I stepped out of the car, looked up at the building.
Dozens of neighbors were poking their heads out, craning their necks for a better view.
Sandra was the first to rush down, phone held high for her live stream, shoving it right in my face as she spoke to her audience.
"This bitch must've snuck out while I wasn't looking, trying to fake that she wasn't home."
"Her place is probably empty now. If I open the door, she'll say I'm making it all up. But she doesn't know I've already got recordings of her screaming."
Seeing the crowd of neighbors gathering, I couldn't help but let out a cold, mocking laugh.
"I've checked the camera. Those two scumbags are still inside. We're not going to miss them."
"Alright, everyone, let's head upstairs and catch them red-handed."