The Mistress’s Game

Ethan was still in the hospital, recovering from the gunshot wound.

The doctors said he was lucky. The bullet had missed his heart by an inch.

Olivia hadn’t been able to get the image out of her mind, him lying there, pale, weak, bleeding.

But she also couldn’t forget what Jessica had said the day before.

“He married me first. I just got sick during the ceremony.”

Those words played in her head like a broken record.

She wanted to ask Ethan about it, but every time she went to see him, the nurse or doctor would say, “He needs rest.”

So she kept her distance, waiting for the right moment.

On the third day after the shooting, Olivia walked into his hospital room with a bowl of soup.

She froze at the door.

Jessica was already there.

Sitting at Ethan’s bedside.

Her hand resting on his.

Ethan didn’t pull away.

“Olivia,” Jessica said sweetly, looking up. “You brought soup? How thoughtful.”

Olivia clenched her jaw. “What are you doing here?”

Jessica tilted her head like an innocent child. “I came to help. Ethan needs someone calm around him.”

Ethan looked between them. His voice was weak but firm. “Olivia, she’s just visiting.”

“Visiting?” Olivia repeated. “She’s the reason.”

“Enough,” Ethan said sharply, wincing in pain. “Not now.”

Jessica smiled at Olivia. It was the kind of smile that said, I’m winning.

Two days later, Olivia came to the hospital again.

The nurse told her Ethan had been discharged.

She rushed home.

And almost dropped her bag when she saw the scene in the living room.

Jessica.

Unpacking her suitcase.

In their mansion.

“What is going on here?” Olivia demanded.

Jessica didn’t even stop folding clothes. “Ethan needs care. I offered to stay here until he’s fully healed. He agreed.”

Olivia’s heart thudded. “This is my home.”

Jessica looked her dead in the eyes. “Not for long.”

From that day on, Jessica acted like the lady of the house.

She made Ethan’s meals.

She sat beside him during meals.

She followed him around like a shadow.

Whenever Olivia tried to talk to him alone, Jessica would magically appear, interrupting.

Worse, Ethan didn’t push her away.

Sometimes, he even smiled at her.

One night, Olivia went to their bedroom.

She froze.

Jessica was in there in her silk robe.

Ethan was in bed, shirtless, reading.

“What are you doing in here?” Olivia shouted.

Jessica walked toward her slowly. “I’m just making sure he’s comfortable. You seem busy these days.”

Olivia stepped closer. “If you think you can replace me.”

Jessica’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I already have.”

The next morning, Olivia woke up to find her breakfast plate in the kitchen… with a note beside it in Jessica’s neat handwriting:

He’s starting to remember who he truly loves.

Her blood boiled.

She wanted to confront Ethan, but she needed proof, proof of what Jessica was doing.

So that night, she followed Jessica down the hallway.

Jessica slipped into Ethan’s study.

Olivia peeked through the crack in the door.

Jessica was sitting on Ethan’s desk… leaning close to whisper in his ear.

Ethan’s face was unreadable.

Then Jessica slide a small, folded piece of paper into his hand.

Olivia’s heart pounded.

What was written on it?

She stepped back into the shadows, deciding she’d search the study later.

But before she could move, Ethan’s voice carried through the door.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked Jessica.

Jessica’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Yes. By the time Olivia realizes, it will be too late.”

Olivia’s phone buzzed in her pocket.

An unknown number had sent her a single message:

Get out of that house. Tonight.