The Ex Mistress and The Wife

Mornings in New York are never truly quiet. Even from the twenty-seventh floor, I could still hear the taxis honking like exes who couldn’t take a hint.

And this morning, the coffee in my hand tasted bitter. Not because the hotel barista downstairs had an inflated sense of confidence. But because my mind had already drifted to a name that should’ve been buried long ago.

Zane Romano. The Armani-clad bastard who once made me believe that a hotel room hug could mean something more than just a blanket for lies.

I stared at my screen. It was filled with random divorce documents I hadn’t even skimmed last night. To be honest, I was more tempted to open a makeup promo email than read a divorce request from the wife of a man who shattered my heart and still managed to look like a magazine spread in every paparazzi shot.

Asshole.

Sofia walked in fifteen minutes before her start time, as always. She carried her tablet, two folders, and that blank expression that made me suspect she secretly kept a journal of every petty crime I committed in this office.

“Morning,” she said, setting the tablet on my desk.

“If you say ‘morning’ in that chipper tone one more time, I’ll set fire to the printer and call it an accident,” I muttered.

She ignored me. She was immune. “Amelia Romano scheduled a meeting for eleven. Consultation room’s blocked off. I also had Legal resend the NDA,” she reported calmly.

I took a slow sip of my coffee. Set it down. “Cancel it.”

Sofia turned sharply. “I’m sorry?”

“Cancel the meeting with Amelia Mercier Romano. Send a polite message, thank her for reaching out, and...I don’t know but just tell her I’m investigating a mass murder case in Kansas or on a silent retreat in Tibet. Take your pick.”

She paused, then sat down across from me. “You sure?”

I leaned back in my chair, crossed my legs. “One hundred percent. And my soul thanks you.”

She stared at me like she was trying to read between the lines. And maybe she could. She’d worked with me long enough to know the difference between when I was firm… and when I was secretly spiraling.

“Just say I don’t take on emotionally combustible cases anymore,” I added.

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s… not a standard excuse.”

“Which is exactly why it’ll sound believable.”

Sofia left, leaving me with a cold coffee and a city that never truly shut up.

I looked through the other files. Tax fraud. Civil suits. A corporate merger agreement.

Everything felt… normal.

And that’s what I wanted right now.

Normal. Stable. Safe.

Because if I got pulled back into the Romano world again, I already knew how it would end.

And this time, I wasn’t sure I’d make it out alive.

+++++++++

Who’s the person I fear the most? Not powerful men. Not federal judges. Not CEOs who bribe their way through golf games.

But women who smile when they know you’ve run out of options.

And this morning, one of them showed up at my office. Uninvited, unscheduled, and clearly not planning to leave until she dug up something that should’ve stayed buried forever.

“I’m sorry,” Sofia said, half-opening the door, awkwardness in her voice. “She… she wouldn’t wait in the lobby.”

Before I could respond, she walked in. Amelia Mercier Romano.

Still a nightmare wrapped in couture.

An ivory-white suit that could pay for three semesters at NYU. Long black hair perfectly brushed, pale rose lips, and those eyes...God, those eyes. Eyes of a woman who hadn’t slept.

Eyes of a wife.

“Thank you, Sofia,” she said softly, then looked directly at me. “We need to talk. Alone.”

I didn’t answer. I just slowly swiveled my chair to face her, the woman I’d once seen on a phone screen… now standing in front of me like a ghost here to collect.

Sofia closed the door. The soft click felt like a noose tightening around my neck.

“Sit,” I said flatly.

Not out of politeness. But because I preferred to deal with her sitting, not standing..less of an advantage.

Amelia sat down, crossed her legs. Silence.

Then she said, “I know you declined my case. And I know… why.”

I forced a smile sharp enough to slice. “So? Did you come here to give me a moral lecture or to challenge me to a street fight?”

“I came because I don’t have anyone else.” Her voice cracked. Soft. Fractured.

And then… her tears fell. One. Two. Silent. No sobs. But enough to make the room feel smaller.

“I know you slept with my husband, Dianna.”

My body went frozen.

Amelia looked at me. Steady. Unblinking. And for the first time, I knew exactly what it felt like to stand in front of a speeding car, too frozen to jump.

“I know it was a long time ago,” she continued. “I knew before our wedding. But the public doesn’t know. The Romano board doesn’t know. And most importantly… his parents doesn’t know.”

I stayed silent. Because whatever I said now would be the wrong thing.

“And,” she took a shaky breath, “I know one more thing.”

She reached into her bag. Pulled out a single photo.

“His name is Alessio, isn’t it?”

And just like that, the world stopped spinning.

The photo...

A small hand holding a kite. A wide grin. Messy black hair and dark blue eyes that—

Oh God.

“You’ve been hiding Zane’s son from everyone,” Amelia whispered. “Even from his father.”

I stood up. Too fast. My chair scraped back and slammed into the shelf behind me. “Get out.”

“No.”

“Get out of my office, Amelia.”

“He’s on vacation. With your parents. In your hometown. In Colombia. I know.”

My heart twisted like it was wrung out by invisible hands.

“I won’t hurt him,” she said quickly. “But I swear, if you don’t take my case, if you think you can walk away from this, I will tell the Romano family everything.”

She leaned in. Her eyes were glassy. But sharp.

“One call to Zane. One email to the tabloids. And you’re not a respected attorney anymore. You’ll be the former mistress who hid the heir to an oil empire.”

“He’s my son,” I hissed.

“A son that my husband doesn’t know exists,” she shot back.

I wanted to slap her. Or flip my desk. Or scream until the ceiling caved in. But all I did was stand there, my breath shallow, my thoughts chaotic, my whole body shaking with fury I couldn’t release.

“Why?” My voice cracked. “Why are you doing this?”

She wiped her tears. A bitter smile curved the edge of her lips. “Because I’m drowning too. And if I go under… I’m not going alone.”

Silence settled between us like invisible smoke. Dense. Sharp. Suffocating.

I slowly sank back into my chair. My hands trembled under the desk where she couldn’t see them.

I looked at her.  “You have a child with him too, don’t you?” I asked, flatly. But there was a crack at the end of it. I hated that.

Her eyes shifted. No longer full of threat, but something else. She didn’t answer right away. Just looked away. And then let out a small, dry laugh. Cold.

“You read the message too, huh?”

Of course I did. It felt like a knife back then. One of the reasons I disappeared. But I smiled, and pretended I didn’t care.

Amelia looked at me again. No fire in her eyes this time.

“I was pregnant,” she said, and I heard the bitterness in her voice. “Two months before the engagement.”

She played with her wedding ring. Stared at it like it owed her an explanation.

“We had the press release ready. Dinner planned with the board. We even bought a damn crib.” She laughed again. Bitter. “You know what’s ironic? Everyone was thrilled. Everyone was proud. But no one knew I had nightmares every night. Because deep down, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold on to any of it.”

I stayed quiet. Something was tearing open inside me.

“I bled out in a hotel bathroom during a meeting in Zurich. Alone. Zane was off closing an oil deal or whatever with his oldest brother.” She shrugged. “Turns out billions of dollars and the Romano name can’t save you when your body just can’t do it.”

Another silence. Something heavy formed in my throat.

“I had a D&C that night. Alone. Then smiled for the cameras the next morning like the perfect wife.”

Still, I said nothing. Because if I opened my mouth, I was afraid I’d cry. And I wasn’t going to give her that.

“After that… we never talked about the baby again,” she continued. “Zane got busier. And I was too broken to remind him that we lost something that never even got a chance to live.” She took a long, deep breath. “And now I know. God never gave me a child with him… because it turns out that child had already been given to someone else.”

My hand gripped the arm of my chair.

Amelia stood up. Her face was open, like she was saying See? I bleed too.

“I don’t hate you, Dianna.”

That was a lie. But not the worst I’d ever heard.

“I just… won’t be the only one who loses.”

She walked to the door. Paused. Looked over her shoulder.

“Take the case. Or I’ll make sure the world knows. Because if I don’t get to be the mother of my husband child… then you don’t get to hide him either.”

Click.

The door closed.

And this time, I really was alone.

My forehead dropped to the desk. Eyes shut. Mind screaming.

I’m not the hero in this story.

I’m just a woman who made too many wrong decisions…And now the only thing I want to protect is the one thing that can be destroyed by someone else.

Alessio.

God, please give me time.