It was my brother's birthday, and all I did was share a snapshot of us on Facebook.

Yet, my brother's fiancée saw it and flipped out, thinking I was the other woman. She stormed in with a posse of women who called themselves the "Mom Squad".

"Clearly your mommy didn't teach you any manners, did she? Snatching up someone else's man!"

"Looks like you're in need of some mothering. We'll straighten you out today, you little hussy!"

They slapped and berated me.

My house's invaluable treasures were destroyed in their rampage.

My brother's fiancée was ranting about ripping out my uterus to stop the "chaos" I was causing.

With my face caked in blood, I dialed my brother's number.

"Come collect your bride-to-be's body!" I growled into the phone.

***

Just back from the office, I caught a livestream that caught my eye.

It was titled: [Mom Squad: Lessons in Decency.]

A group of formidable aged women, armed with kitchenware, ready for battle.

They made a cacophony with their pots and pans, engaging actively with their online audience.

"Family, let's ramp up those votes! We're close to trending number one. Then we'll school this shameless mistress!"

The camera swung to showcase the entrance of a lavish gated community.

That's my community!

Chat members recognized it immediately.

[Isn't that the elite enclave?]

[Damn, whose billionaire is keeping his mistress there?]

I figured it was just another stream for shock value, confident that security wouldn't let them disturb the peace.

But in a blink, someone flashed a card.

The security guard glanced at their access card and respectfully let them through.

The live stream's chat was blowing up:

[Let's roll! Time to show this side chick some tough love!]

[Ugh, mistresses are the worst. Can they all just disappear?]

[Chill, guys. The 'Mom Squad' is on it.]

Viewers were pumping votes and dropping gifts like there's no tomorrow.

The "Mom Squad" was clearly having a blast, their kitchenware making a racket.

It was such a ruckus, felt like the noise was banging right next to my ear.

Livestreams these days... nothing but a circus for likes and views.

Just as I was about to kill the feed, I spotted a familiar face.

It was no one else but my brother's girlfriend.

He was stirring up our family lately over the marriage with her—Emily Grant.

My parents died when I was a kid, leaving just me and my little brother, Chris.

I was only six years older than him—we practically grew up together.

Chris met someone during college, and though I was expanding our business abroad, I didn't think much of it.

Little did I expect that they dated through college.

Now Chris was set on marrying Emily.

According to Chris, Emily was a genuine, down-to-earth girl.

He'd share snippets of their life, praising her grit, unlike any society girl.

Slowly, this girl I'd never met started to grow on me.

When Chris said he wanted to marry her, I had no objections.

I wasn't building up my company just to have Chris trade his love life for strategic alliances.

It's rare for him to be so sure about someone.

I flew back home, bringing with me some seriously pricey gifts for Emily.

Couldn't exactly skimp on the future Mrs. Harris, right?

But there she was on camera, tears streaming down her face,

Pouring her heart out about a cheating scandal.

"My fiancé and I were practically at the courthouse to tie the knot when this shameless woman sent me pictures of them together in bed, pressuring me to step aside. She claimed my fiancé didn't love me, insisting that the real home wrecker is the unloved one!"

Tears streamed down her face as she spoke.

The chat erupted with support, vilifying the other woman.

[That's just the typical excuse of a homewrecker!]

[How can she strut around so righteous? Does she have no shame at all?]

[It's absurd. Shouldn't someone take care of mistresses like her permanently?]

The livestream was rallying around her, with some viewers practically ready to take action themselves.

I furrowed my brows, shocked that Chris could do such a thing to a woman who clearly loved him.

When did he start going down this path, messing with someone's feelings like that?

As a kid, Chris was always the perfect gentleman, so respectful and polite.

I immediately closed the stream and dialed his number.

As soon as he answered, "Hey, sis."

I blasted him, "Wow, really stepping up in the world, huh? Now you're messing with girls?"

Chris sounded genuinely confused, "Sis, what's all this about?"

I snapped, "Cut the act. Come clean now, or it'll be worse when I find out."

Silence followed, then a timid, "You mean the exam I failed back in junior year?"

I lost it, "No games now!"

His denial was infuriating.

At that point, I was more inclined to believe Emily.

After all, why would she jeopardize her own reputation?

I was determined to uncover the truth.

"Get home now," I ordered Chris and hung up.

Then I called my assistant to investigate further.

No sooner had I hung up than a knock came at the door.

Muttering about Chris' unexpected speed, I opened it.

Instantly, I was knocked down by a sudden force.

A crowd stormed in, and several phones were thrust into my face.

"Look closely, folks—this is what happens when no one teaches you right!"

"If your family won't teach you, then it's up to society's 'Mom Squad' to step in!"

"Think you're above the law with your antics? We're here to prove you wrong!"

I shoved them back, recognizing them from the stream.

Struggling to rise, Emily stepped forward, her stiletto heels pressing into me.

I gasped in pain, instinctively protecting my stomach.

Her heel ground harder into my cheek as she venomously spat,

"Feeling smug, stealing other people's men, huh?"

My mind was ringing.

The invading women took turns lecturing me, using kitchen utensils as their pointers.

I clutched my head, protecting myself, "I have no idea what you're on about! Emily, look at me—do you even recognize who I am?!"

Emily scoffed and slapped me, "You know my name yet you chase after my man? You like the thrill, is that it?"

They took turns hitting and kicking me.

"Still pretending? Trying to trap a man with those looks? You tramp! Like your life depends on it!"

"You were raised with no manners, so we're here to give you the lesson you missed!"

I struggled but couldn't break free.

Hearing a familiar voice from next door, I screamed for help.

They only laughed harder.

Dragging me by the hair, they paraded me in front of the neighbors, "This woman here, a known mistress. Shame on anyone living near her!"

The neighbors quickly retreated, holding their noses.

Emboldened by the recognition, the women's laughter grew even wilder.

They pulled me back inside, and Emily noticed the engagement ring on my finger.

Her eyes widened, "Married and still on the prowl? Typical mistress behavior!"

The crowd egged her on, "In the old days, we'd have drowned someone like you!"

"Utterly lawless, with no respect for decency!"

"What, your man isn't enough for you? Looking for more, are you?"

The woman filming taunted, "If it weren't for homewreckers like you, our husbands would be home where they belong!"

The online crowd cheered on, relishing the drama, itching to reach through the screen.

Emily looked around, satisfied with the support.

Clapping her hands, she called, "Mrs. Johnson, bring the prop!"

Someone stepped forward with a chair.

Its seat was covered in spikes!

Emily's smirk grew as she saw me shudder, "Lucky for you, we're not in medieval times, or it'd be the dunking stool for you!"

They pushed me toward the spiked chair.

Terrified, I shouted, "Emily! Do you realize what you're doing? Look at me—I'm Chris' sister!"

"Sister? Ha!"

She kicked me, her tone cutting, "Blood sister? Or just playing 'sister'?"

Looking down at me, she added mockingly, "I almost forgot!"

"Sending those messages to my fiancé, calling you 'sister'—do you role-play that in bed too?"