I gasped, but before I could say anything, it was like a signal to the rest of them.
They went wild, grabbing anything they could get their hands on and smashing it.
One guy even climbed onto the couch, yanking down the painting on the wall – a genuine Monet – and stomping on it with a smirk.
“Look at this, folks! I’m wrecking this tramp’s precious stuff!”
I watched their destruction, my face cold as I gave one last warning.
“You’d better think twice. You can’t afford to pay for what you’re destroying. Don’t come beg me when the bill comes.”
But my words only fueled Beatrice’s anger. She glanced at my antique display shelf, gave me a taunting smile, and with a loud crash, toppled the entire oakwood shelf.
“Beg you? Everything you own was bought with Harper’s money! I’m just destroying what’s already his!”
I stood there helplessly, watching as priceless treasures I’d collected over the years shattered at my feet.
Of course, it hurt to see them ruined, but I knew better than to confront these crazed people head-on.
Luckily, I had surveillance cameras set up all over the house. Every person, every item they destroyed – it was all being recorded.
One man, a middle-aged neighbor, crouched down, carefully sifting through the broken shards. After a moment, he hesitated and pushed up his glasses.
“Uh, Beatrice… these antiques… they’re real. I think they might be worth millions.”
I let out a cold laugh.
“You’ve got a good eye, but you’re not quite right. The pieces you’ve smashed? They’re worth over sixty million.”
Beatrice froze, then burst out laughing.
“Sixty million? Why don’t you just say sixty billion? These are just a pile of junk. I’d say six hundred bucks, tops. You always look so cheap when you come to our house – how could you possibly afford antiques worth millions?”
I sighed. Harper had explained to me before we got engaged that his mother had a lot of pride, and he didn’t want her to feel inferior. So every time I visited her, I dressed down, even driving a borrowed economy car, just to avoid making her feel uncomfortable.
But clearly, she’d misunderstood everything and assumed I was poor, living off Harper’s money.
I was about to correct her when one of her lackeys spoke up.
“Don’t worry, Beatrice! Smash it all! Even if it’s worth a few thousand, we can all chip in and cover it. We’ve got plenty of people here!”