Revenge on My Brother with His Wife
The mobile screen glowed, displaying the self-driving itinerary I had stayed up all night organizing—the route clear as day, with even the homestays where you can catch the sunrise over the sea marked in red.
Windy Shaw was applying lipstick in front of the full-length mirror by the entrance, the golden slim tube spinning deftly between her fingers.
She wore a sharply tailored beige suit set in the mirror, looking as dazzling as a model straight out of a fashion magazine.
"Sister-in-law, are the car keys still at brother's company?" I shook the mobile phone in my hand without stopping, urgency in my voice, "We agreed to leave at nine this morning. If we delay any longer, we'll miss the seafood stall we booked for noon."
Windy Shaw put down the lipstick and lightly tapped her fingertips on the dressing table, the "tap-tap" sound crisp and clear.
She picked up a compact powder to touch up a bit, then looked back at me. "I still have a contract to finalize here. The client added a last-minute addendum, so I need to double-check it."
I frowned, worry clear in my voice. "What are we going to do? The itinerary says the first three days of National Day have fewer crowds at the scenic spots, but after that, the lines will be long."
"You go to Mario Young's company and get the keys first." Windy Shaw pulled out an access card from the drawer and handed it to me, adding, "Bring back that file marked 'Urgent' on my desk. There's a client signing tonight—it absolutely can't be missed."
"Alright!" I took the access card, grabbed the canvas bag from the sofa, and dashed out. At the door, I called back, "Windy, hurry up! I'll message you as soon as I get the stuff!"
"Be safe on the road!" Windy Shaw's voice came from behind me, tinged with a faint smile.
Mario Young is my nominal older brother and also Windy Shaw's husband. He currently serves as the Deputy General Manager at a branch of the Shaw Group.
Though he's the Deputy General Manager, this company was originally Shaw Family's property. He's just leveraged his marriage to Windy Shaw to land a high-ranking position.
I was adopted by the Young Family's parents when I was little and grew up alongside Mario Young. But he never really treated me like a brother—especially after marrying Windy Shaw, he's been even more distant and indifferent towards me.
I took a taxi to the foot of Mario Young's company building. The silver office tower dazzled in the sunlight, hurting my eyes.
As soon as the glass door slid open, a sweet, burnt smell hit me—like burnt cake mixed with butter—which made me cough twice without meaning to.
The office area was a mess. None of the employees in the cubicles were working; instead, they were all peeking toward the pantry, sighing every now and then.
I squeezed through and was instantly stunned.
A woman in a pale yellow dress was crouched in front of the oven, her long hair tied up into a loose bun with a pink hair tie, the ends dusted with flour.
She was holding a blackened, charred piece in her hand, her brows tightly furrowed, eyes wide: "How could this happen? The video clearly said thirty minutes at 350 degrees. I even added an extra ten minutes. How did it get burnt like this?"
Behind her stood a secretary in a white shirt, her face as pale as paper, clutching a thick stack of contracts so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
The secretary's voice cracked with emotion, "Fiona Lynn, this oven was bought by the administrative department for everyone to warm their lunchboxes. It's low-powered—not made for baking cookies at all..."
"But I wanted to surprise Mario," The woman pouted, threw the burnt cookies back onto the baking tray, then wiped her face—only to smear flour all over it.
She caught sight of the contract on the secretary's desk, grabbed it, and was about to wipe her hands with it. "Look, my hands are covered in flour. Using this paper to wipe them clean will only take a moment."
The secretary was so startled she nearly jumped up. She lunged forward to hold her hand down, her voice trembling, "My dear miss! This contract has to be submitted for bidding this afternoon. It's been revised five times by the Legal Department and even has the leader's signature. You absolutely can't use it to wipe your hands! I'll get you a wet wipe, please don't touch it!"
The woman reluctantly let go, a smirk twisting at the corner of her mouth like dripping oil.
Just as the secretary turned and headed toward the pantry, she quickly snatched up the contract and shoved it into the nearby food waste bin — the bin had a shredding function, its silver body still glowing with indicator lights. If the contract really ended up in there, it would definitely be shredded beyond recognition.
The secretary's eyes were sharp and her hands quick; she spun around and rushed back in three quick strides to grab the contract.
The hem of her white shirt was smudged with flour, and there was a dark stain on her chest, but she didn't have time to wipe it off. She just anxiously stomped her foot and said, "Fiona, if this contract gets destroyed, all the effort our department put into those three all-nighters will have been for nothing! And forget about attending next week's bidding meeting!"
"It's just a few pieces of worthless paper, isn't it?" The woman shrugged it off, patted the flour off her skirt, and said, "Mario is the Deputy General Manager. Why not just have the Legal Department print another copy? It's no big deal—why make such a fuss?"
I was boiling with anger; this woman was just so unreasonable.
I grabbed a nearby colleague with a wild afro who was holding a mostly untouched sandwich—she had obviously been drawn over by the commotion.
Who is this woman? Why is she making such a scene in the office area? I lowered my voice, afraid that woman might overhear and cause more trouble.
A colleague scratched his wild hair, leaned closer to me, and whispered with his hand covering his mouth, "You're here for an interview, right? She's Mr. Young's sister, named Mia Young. I heard she just started college and spends her vacations hanging around the company.""She usually stays in Mr. Young's office, but today, I don't know what's gotten into her; she insisted on coming to the pantry to make cookies."
"Mia Young?" I was stunned, nearly dropping the canvas bag in my hand. "I'm the real Mia Young! That woman actually dares to use my name and act all high and mighty around the company?"
The coworker paused, sizing me up and down. "You're also called Mia Young? What a coincidence. But Mr. Young's sister was personally brought in by him and even introduced to us. Maybe you're mistaken? It could just be someone with the same name."
I was just about to step forward and expose her lie when I heard a dull buzz coming from the oven.
Then, all the lights in the building suddenly went out, plunging the office area into complete darkness, with only the emergency lights casting a faint green glow.
The smoke alarm began shrieking beep beep beep, and fine droplets of water sprayed down from the ceiling sprinklers. The cold water hit my head and body, soaking me halfway in an instant.
The office area suddenly erupted in wails.
"My code! I spent the whole morning writing it and didn't save it! If I can't get it back, today's work is wasted!" A bespectacled guy hugged his laptop, his voice nearly breaking into tears.
"This is bad, bad! The client's still waiting for me to send the plan. With the power cut and no saved document, it's all gone! How am I supposed to explain this to the client?" Another girl stomped her foot, almost crushing the USB flash drive in her hand.
"When the heck is Mia Young going back to school? If this keeps up, our whole department is going to be destroyed by her!" Someone couldn't help but complain, their voice filled with helplessness and anger.
Water droplets trickled down my hair. I wiped the water off my face and pulled out my mobile phone to call Windy Shaw.
As the screen lit up, I suddenly heard that woman named Fiona Lynn shouting at me, "Who are you? What are you doing standing here? Did you mess with my oven? Otherwise, why would the power suddenly go out?"
Before I could say a word, the secretary from earlier blocked my way, her tone sharp: "You must be new here, right? Don't know the rules? Fiona's things aren't for you to touch! Apologize to Fiona right now!"
"Apologize?" I laughed angrily, slipping my mobile phone back into my pocket. "The office area is where everyone works, not her kitchen.""She misused the oven and caused a power outage, ruining everyone's work. You ignore her but come to blame me? What kind of logic is that?"
The secretary was so stunned she couldn't get a word out, her face flushing bright red.
She sized me up and down a few times, then suddenly leaned closer and lowered her voice. "You look a bit like Ms. Shaw, don't you? Are you a distant relative of hers? I'd advise you not to meddle—Fiona Lynn is under Mr. Young's protection. You don't want to get on her bad side, or you're just asking for trouble."
No sooner had she finished her sentence than Fiona Lynn rushed up to me, pointing at the oven timer, her voice sharp: "I just checked, and there were fifty-five minutes left on the timer. Now it's down to fifty! You definitely touched my oven! How else could the time have run down? Don't even try to deny it!"
As she spoke, she reached out to push me, but I quickly sidestepped, avoiding her touch.
Just then, I saw something pink fall from her pocket to the floor — a hair tie decorated with tiny pearls, exactly like the one I lost last year!
I remember it clearly. On my birthday last year, Windy Shaw gave me this hair tie. I loved it and wore it every day.
Then it suddenly disappeared. I looked for it for days but couldn't find it. When I asked Mario Young, he said I was careless and forgetful and told me not to bother looking anymore.
Now it turns out he was the one who gave it to that woman!
Just then, my phone rang. It was Windy Shaw calling.
I was about to answer when Fiona Lynn suddenly reached out, grabbed my phone, and casually tossed it to the ground.
With a sharp crack, the phone's screen shattered into a spiderweb pattern, scattering tiny shards of glass everywhere.
But she acted like nothing was wrong, hands on her hips, chin held high. "I'm talking to you—how dare you answer the phone? Didn't you hear me asking you? Do you even care about me anymore?"
I bent down to pick up the mobile phone and stared at the crack on the screen. My anger completely boiled over.
This phone was a birthday gift from Windy Shaw last year. I've always taken great care of it, never letting it get a single scratch, and now she actually smashed it like this.
Just as I was about to argue with her, the noisy sound of footsteps came from the doorway. Several men in black suits rushed in carrying folders. The leader had a buzz cut and a pale, grim face.
"It's you!" The crew-cut man pointed at Fiona, his voice loud enough to hurt your ears. "Last time the blackout ruined our project, and now this! You have to give us an explanation today, or we'll take it up with the headquarters and let them settle this!"
Fiona took two steps back, startled, but quickly straightened up, hands on her hips: "Do you even know who I am? I'm Mario Young's sister! Mario is the Deputy General Manager here. Believe me, I can have you all fired! Then you won't have jobs to complain about!"
"Mario Young?" The crew-cut man sneered coldly, his voice dripping with disdain, "He's just a live-in son-in-law, only in this position because of Ms. Shaw. You really think he can call the shots? If we don't get compensation today, we'll call the police and let them decide who's at fault!"
Fiona panicked, her face instantly turning pale.
She quickly pulled out her mobile phone, fumbling as she video-called Mario Young. Her voice immediately softened, trembling with tears, "Mario, please take a look—they're bullying me... Come back quickly and save me, I'm so scared... I can't handle this alone..."
The call connected quickly, and Mario Young's anxious voice came through the screen: "Fiona, don't be afraid, I'm coming back right now. I'm already downstairs. Who's bullying you? When I get there, I'll make him kneel and apologize to you! Just wait a little longer—I'll be there soon!"
I stood to the side, watching Fiona's smug expression, when I suddenly remembered the 'Emergency' file Windy Shaw had asked me to take.
The password to Mario Young's office had always been Windy Shaw's birthday. With a 'let's try it' mindset, I headed to his office.
The office door was secured with an electronic lock. I entered Windy Shaw's birthday—19920512—and pressed confirm, but the lock just flashed a red light and didn't open.
"Did the password change?" I frowned, feeling a bit puzzled. Just as I was about to try again, I heard a "click" behind me—the electronic lock opening.
I turned around and saw Fiona Lynn opening the office door.
She leaned against the doorframe, glanced at me, and curled a smug smile. "Mario changed the password to my birthday a long time ago. Who do you think you are, trying to get into his office? Dream on!"
The men demanding answers saw this and immediately rushed over, surrounding the office door. "Where's Mario Young? Let him come out! Stop hiding in there and keeping quiet! We want answers today!"
Fiona stood in the doorway, arms spread wide, just about to speak when she saw Mario Young rushing out of the elevator.
His suit was wrinkled, his hair tousled, and his tie was crooked—clearly, he had run out in a hurry and hadn't had time to fix himself.
Seeing Fiona, he immediately rushed over. 'Fiona, are you okay? Did anyone bully you? Did they do anything to you?'
Fiona threw herself into his arms, gripping his waist tightly with both hands, pointing at me and those men as she cried, 'Mario, they bullied me. They even said you're an in-law without means, that you're useless... I feel so wronged... Please help me teach them a lesson...'
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