"You think, at your age, without a job, where did all this money come from? Isn't it all from my husband? You and my husband are just a transaction. Did you really think he loves you? Don't dream!"
Her friends chimed in.
"Chelsea, you're absolutely right! Spending dirty money earned by selling your body, and still flaunting it—whoever accepts it is unlucky! Who knows, she might even have some diseases on her; Chelsea, you better stay away from her and don't catch anything!"
"Isn't she just a whore? Buying all these luxury goods by seducing men—it's disgusting!"
The crowd around us grew larger, and I clenched my fists in anger but maintained my composure, not wanting to stoop to Chelsea's level.
I assumed she had mistaken me for someone else and decided to clear things up:
"The man you're talking about—is he Philip, the CEO of the Fowler group"
Chelsea sneered, "Of course, you'd know his name if you're seducing him! Yes, my husband is Philip! We've been together for three years and are about to get married, and now you come in to disgust me? If I don't strip you of your skin today, my name isn't Chelsea!"
I dusted off my clothes, not wanting to argue further with Chelsea.
"Philip is my son."