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His Ex Mistress, His Enemy
Last Updated : 2025-12-15
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Four years ago, Dianna Rosa fell in love with a man who promised her the world. Only to find out she was nothing more than his mistress. Heartbroken and betrayed, Dianna walked away from Zane Romano, heir to the powerful Romano Group, without a word. She disappeared, carrying pain, fury… and a secret she swore he’d never know. Now, she’s back. Not as the fragile lover he once knew, but as the lead attorney in a billion-dollar lawsuit against his empire. Their reunion in the courtroom ignites a firestorm of old wounds, sharp words, and dangerous chemistry. Zane is still cold, commanding, and dangerously charming. But Dianna? She’s not the woman he could control anymore. One wants justice. The other still wants her. But when buried secrets rise to the surface, they’ll have to choose....destroy each other, or burn together.
View MoreChapter 1
She Gets the Ring. I Got the Night.
Sometimes, love doesn’t end with an explosion. Sometimes, it just… dies.
Quietly. Slowly. Without anyone noticing. And by the time you do, you’re already too far gone to turn back.
His scent still lingered on the sheets of that expensive hotel bed. Rain clung to the glass windows, and city lights spilled over his bare chest. His breath, warm against the back of my neck.
He didn’t say much.
Zane Romano never had to.
His words were rare, heavy. That kind of low, gruff voice that reminded you of an old engine that couldn’t be tamed. Even in silence, my body knew exactly what he wanted. His touch always knew where my lines were... and how to cross them.
“Turn around,” he said that night.
And I did.
Because I was stupid. Because I loved him.
His hand brushed my cheek. Those eyes.
That deep, dark blue like they held secrets I’d never be ready to hear.
He looked at me like I was his. Not a secret he kept hidden from the world.
“If I weren’t Zane Romano,” he whispered, “would you still be here?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how.
He kissed me. Soft. Deep. And then he fell asleep first, like he always did. So calm. So untouchable.
I woke before sunrise. His scent still clung to my skin. My lips were still swollen from his kiss.
But my fingers trembled as I picked up my phone.
One message. From my best friend, Winona. A link. A photo. One line: “He’s engaged, D.”
My heart didn’t beat in that moment. Or maybe it beat too loud for me to hear anything else.
There he was in the photo. Zane. Wearing a tux. Standing beside a woman who looked like she belonged in a magazine. Poised, elegant, smiling like she owned the world.
And as I looked closer, it hit me. This wasn’t a rumor. Wasn’t gossip.
The date on the article said yesterday morning..
Yesterday.
He slept with me the night after his engagement.
I turned slowly, still in disbelief. Zane lay asleep on the bed, one arm stretched across the spot I’d just left. His breathing was steady. His shoulder bare, glinting under the dim light.
His face looked peaceful. Too peaceful for a man who had just shattered someone’s heart.
My eyes burned, but no tears came.
I bent down. Picked up my dress from the marble floor. Found my heels, which suddenly felt heavier.
I was reaching for my clutch when Zane’s phone lit up on the nightstand.
One soft chime. My eyes flicked to the screen.
AMELLIA MY LOVE 💍
“Love, I threw up again this morning. This baby’s killing me 😩 I can’t wait to tell the board after dinner tonight. Don’t forget to call Papa before that, okay? He wants to confirm the press release. I love you.”
My throat tightened.
One word echoed in my head.
Baby.
This baby’s killing me.
The world tilted. Or maybe it was just me who could no longer stand upright.
My stomach hollowed. My hand clenched around my black clutch until the zipper creaked beneath my grip.
I wanted to wake him. Slap him. Ask one thing: Was I just a mistake you enjoyed before your real life began?
But I already knew the answer.
I was the woman he let fall...with no intention of ever catching.
My feet moved toward the door. Every step felt like pressing into a fresh wound.
I looked back once. One last time. At his silhouette.
And there, standing in the doorway, I finally let the tears fall.
Because sometimes, love doesn’t die all at once. Sometimes, it’s buried alive in the wrong bed.
And me? I buried my heart beside a man named Zane Romano.
Latest chapter
His Ex Mistress, His Enemy Vacation Mode
Ten in the morning in Bali feels like six in the evening in my brain.I’m sinking into the villa’s living-room sofa, drowned in Zane’s oversized hoodie. The sleeves swallow my hands all the way to the fingers, and every time I move, the fabric slides with me, soft and slick, smelling far too much like Zane to qualify as neutral clothing.Up front, the glass door is half open. The blue ocean sits quiet beneath the cliff, the sun climbing slow, the breeze slipping in with salt and the faint scent of sambal drifting from the kitchen.I’m doing nothing. Phone in hand, a warm box of siomay on the table. My newest life discovery: steamed fish balls and tofu with thick peanut sauce, sambal, and a squeeze of tiny lime. The perfect child between an arepa and an empanada in some alternate form.I stab a piece with a plastic fork, drag it through the sauce, squeeze lime over it, and pop it into my mouth. Soft, rich, savory, spicy, tangy. My brain waves a white flag.“Fine,” I mumble to the box.
Last Updated : 2025-12-15His Ex Mistress, His Enemy Pause
I woke to the sound of the sea.Not an alarm, not a notification, not Ash screaming “MAMIII, PEPPEEERRR…,” just the waves rising and falling beneath the cliff, slow and rhythmic. Like someone knocking on the edge of the world with handfuls of foam.My eyes cracked open. Wooden ceiling. Sheer white curtains drifting lazily. A slice of blue sky and a line of ocean far too beautiful for a Wednesday morning.And a heavy arm wrapped around my waist.Warm breath grazed my nape. A faint beard brushed the skin behind my ear. A solid chest pressed to my back. Thigh muscles fitted along mine. A whole limited-edition heating system holding me hostage on the bed.Usually, this is when my brain would boot up: counting hours, recalling schedules, scrolling news-ticker thoughts across my skull. Breakfast time, whose email, which client, what threat. Now… nothing.Not peaceful nothing. More like my brain pulled a blanket over itself and muttered, “go back to sleep, idiot.”I stayed curled toward the
Last Updated : 2025-12-14His Ex Mistress, His Enemy Dark Outside
ZANE POVThe villa breathed in a way that made the outside world feel invented. The pool beyond the living room caught the low lights and turned them into a sheet of black glass. The ocean mumbled somewhere far off, nearly swallowed by crickets and whatever creature felt like screaming from the trees. Maybe a monkey. Maybe the ghost of a crypto bro who went all-in at the wrong hour.I sat on the long sofa in a gray tee and shorts, laptop open on the low table, phone pressed to my ear. My fingers tapped the armrest, same pattern as before: one, two, pause.Another part of my brain counted seconds.“Repeat.”On the other end, Diego. Always steady, like he was giving a morning briefing, not reporting on strangers who enjoyed hovering too close to my life.“We reconfirmed it with CCTV from the Upper East restaurant,” he said. “Same woman, same red coat. Two weeks ago she was across the street from Hawthorne & Co. Stood there about thirty-five minutes. Didn’t do anything except watch the e
Last Updated : 2025-12-13His Ex Mistress, His Enemy Hazel Eyes at Golden Hour
Zane PovThe beach pulled a double shift that evening. The sky split into three colors: orange, a thin wash of violet, and blue retreating in slow steps. The sun drifted toward the rim of the water, a round gold-red coin whose glow turned the sea into something poured from a copper pitcher.My café perched on the sand, half wooden deck, half low lounge pressed right against the beach. Strings of small bulbs hung between bamboo poles. The speakers spilled something soft, EDM, jazz, something with enough pulse to let rich people sway their shoulders while pretending they were talking stocks.Our table sat in the best spot. Corner of the deck, an L-shaped couch facing the ocean and angled toward the bar. Close enough to watch the crowd, far enough not to get clipped by an influencer and their tripod.Dianna leaned at the end of the couch, the low backrest barely catching her spine. That white dress shaped itself around her without much effort. Her bare feet sank into the sand under the t
Last Updated : 2025-12-12
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