My Cheating Boyfriend Dumped Me, I Stole His Dad's Heart

Desiree's POV

Today is my boyfriend's twenty-fifth birthday, and I’ve planned a surprise party for him.

“Hush, he's almost here,” I tell everyone.

I’ve decorated the living room with sparkling fairy lights and bright blue, red, and purple balloons—Mike’s favorite colors. It looks amazing. A big banner that says "Happy 25th Birthday, Mike!" hangs over the fireplace, but it’s a bit crooked because I couldn't reach the middle without wobbling on a chair. The smell of his favorite foods—spicy buffalo wings, loaded nachos, and lots of pizza—fills the air. My heart is beating fast with excitement.

“Is he almost here?” someone asks, yawning.

“We’re starving,” another guest says.

I roll my eyes. “Oh, be quiet. You’ll ruin the surprise.”

The truth is, I’m hungry too. And worried. We’ve been waiting here longer than I expected, awkwardly holding a bottle of champagne, a can of foam spray, a bag of confetti, and a fake trumpet. My stomach growls. I glance longingly at the snack table but resist the urge to grab a bite. Mike will be here soon, and I want everything to be perfect.

I check my phone again. It's almost 8:30. Mike usually gets off work at five. Where is he?

“Maybe he's stuck at work,” says Jessica, my best friend.

“Maybe he had an accident,” someone else adds.

“Maybe he's dead,” a voice jokes.

I can't take it anymore. "Could you all be quiet?" I snap. "Mike is fine." But even as the words leave my lips, a sliver of doubt creeps in. Why isn't he here?

“How sure are you?” William, a friend of Mike's, says. “You haven't called him.”

“If she calls him, it will ruin the surprise,” Jessica says.

Bless her heart. She's the only sensible one here.

It took several weeks of planning to assemble the crowd in this room. I visited his gym to invite his workout buddies, dropped by his office to rope in his colleagues, and even tracked down old friends. All to get them here today. So Mike can’t be dead. He better not be fucking dead.

The minutes feel like hours, each one stretching forever. My excitement is turning into anxiety. Just when I’m about to break and call him, I hear a car pull up.

My heart jumps. “Quiet, everyone! He’s here!”

The room goes silent, except for the rustling of wrapping paper and the hum of the fridge. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

I tiptoe to the front window and peek out from behind the curtains. My heart races with excitement. I feel a wave of relief as I see Mike’s car pulling into the driveway, headlights shining through the darkness.

I turn to the room, press a finger to my lips, and mouth, "Get ready."

Everyone hides behind furniture and counters, trying not to laugh and adjusting their positions to stay hidden. I dart to the light switch, ready to plunge the room into darkness. Just as Mike’s keys jingle in the lock, I flick off the lights. The room is dark and quiet with excitement.

The door creaks open, and I hear Mike’s footsteps as he comes in.

He's moving clumsily. There's a loud thud as he bumps into the doorframe, followed by a quiet curse. His steps are uneven. A loud crash echoes as he knocks something over, probably looking for the light switch. Clothes rustle and shoes scrape against the floor. He’s breathing fast and moving awkwardly in the dark.

I wait until he’s fully inside and has taken a few steps into the room. Then, quickly, I turn the lights back on.

“Surprise!” we all shout in unison, jumping up from our hiding spots.

But the words die in my throat as I take in the scene before me.

Mike isn’t alone.

There's a beautiful blonde lady with him. Her hands are around his neck, and they're kissing passionately. Too passionately. Wet sucking sounds. Lips smashing upon lips. Tongue down each other’s throats. Saliva everywhere. Her blouse is unbuttoned and askew, because Mike's hand—his right hand—is inside that blouse, fondling her boobs, and his left hand is gripping her ass, holding her close to his dick and grinding.

What. The. Fuck.

They both freeze, eyes wide with shock.

The room goes silent, and the happy mood is gone. My heart sinks, and I feel sick.

“Mike?” I manage to say, my voice shaking.

The girl's red lipstick is smeared. Her hair is messy. Her face is flushed.

She's beautiful. Her silky blonde hair falls down her shoulders in soft waves, looking perfect even messy. Her bright blue eyes are striking, and her skin glows.

And she's smiling.

She's fucking smiling. I know that smile. I know that face.

“What the fuck?” I scream. “You're cheating on me with my cousin?”

Mike’s face turns pale. “Dee, I can explain,” he stammers, stepping forward, but I step back and raise a hand to stop him.

“Explain what, Mike?” I ask.

“Exactly, Mikey,” says Mabel—Mike’s assistant, my cousin, the one I helped get a job at Mike’s father's company, the one currently in Mike’s arms. “What do you want to explain?” She turns to Mike, her voice tinged with nonchalance. “She’s a stripper. She sucks dicks for a living. I thought you said she was working tonight. Why is she here?”

I can't believe this shit. “You fucking bitch,” I scream, lunging at her with my hand aimed at her face.

But before I can reach her, someone grabs me and pulls me back.

I whip around and see it’s William, one of Mike’s gym buddies. “Why are you holding me back?” I snarl, my anger now directed at him. I’m two seconds away from elbowing him in the face.

"Calm down, Desiree," he says, his grip firm but gentle. "This isn't worth it."

Not worth it? What the hell does that mean? I glare at William, my chest heaving with rage. "They betrayed me! You expect me to just stand here and do nothing?"

I struggle against his hold. “Let me go, William,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “Let me goooo. I need to do this.”

William shakes his head, his grip tight. “No, you don’t.”

Tears stream down my face.

Is this the thanks I get?

I shouldn’t have helped her. When Mabel came crying that afternoon, I should have sent her out the door. I remember how she showed up at the house, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She looked so desperate, clutching a soggy portfolio, her hair sticking to her tear-streaked face.

“Dee, please,” she had sobbed, her voice cracking. “No tech company will take me. They all said no. I’m at the end of my rope here.”

I decided to help. I picked up the phone and called Mike, explaining Mabel’s situation. I pleaded with him to give her a chance, to pull some strings with his father’s company.

“She’s family,” I explained. “Can you talk to your dad? Maybe he can find something for her?”

He hesitated, reminding me that his father’s company was very selective. But I didn’t back down. I argued, cajoled, and practically begged until he finally agreed to see what he could do.

A week later, Mike called with good news. His father had agreed to take a chance on Mabel. She was going to get the internship. I had been so relieved, so proud of myself for helping her.

And this is how she repays me? By stealing my boyfriend?

“How could you?” I ask Mabel, with tears pouring down my face. “Do you even have a conscience?”

Mabel rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, Dee. You know you don’t deserve Mike. This was bound to happen.”

“Bound to happen?” I echo. “I gave you everything, Mabel. I got you the job, I stood by you when no one else would. And this is how you repay me?”

She shrugs, her indifference like a slap in the face. “Well, maybe you should’ve seen it coming. Mike needs a partner who matches his status and ambition. You never went to college. You strip for a living. Clearly, the right person for Mike isn’t you.”

My blood boils. I take a step towards her, but William’s grip on my hand gets tighter.

Just then, my best friend Jessica charges at Mabel, grabbing a fistful of her blonde hair.

“You backstabbing witch!” Jessica yells, yanking hard.