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You Want a Mistress I’m Already a Queen
You Want a Mistress I’m Already a Queen
Author: Peachy

Chapter 1

Author: Peachy
Two years into my marriage with Don Dante, my ex reappeared. Julian heir to an East Coast dynasty, he was finally coming into his fortune.

Now he thought he could finally afford me.

What he didn't know? I belonged to someone he could never afford to cross.

That voice. Julian's. It cut through the quiet of the garden.

"Sera, I know you're in there."

I was pruning roses. The sound of his voice almost made me snip my own finger.

How did he get in?

Through the glass, I saw him standing before the black rose bushes. Perfect suit. Not a hair out of place. Exactly like the night he broke me.

We dated in secret.

I didn't know he was an Astor, heir to an East Coast fortune.

He didn't know my father was the Moretti underboss. He swore he loved me.

Over and over. Until his family found out who I was. Old money doesn't mix with the mob.

A week later, pictures of him kissing some princess splashed across the society pages.

When I confronted him, he told me she was worthy of his name. I wasn't.

I was dead inside.

Then Dante came for me. The Don who’d always watched over me. He pursued me. Relentlessly.

And he won.

Now, seeing the man who betrayed me...

All I felt was disgust.

"We need to talk." He turned. His blue eyes filled with a sickening confidence.

I pushed open the greenhouse door. "Talk about what? How did you get in?"

"I bribed a guard." He shrugged. Like it was nothing. "That's not important. What's important is, I need to tell you—"

"Get out."

"Just listen." Julian took a step closer. "I'm getting engaged to Tiffany. Next month."

I laughed. "Congratulations."

"It's just duty, Sera. A family arrangement." His voice dropped to that familiar, velvet purr. The one he always used when he wanted something from me. "My feelings for you haven't changed. You know that, right?"

"What do I know?"

"I love you." He reached for my face, but I pulled back. "Tiffany is just a marriage. You—you're my true love."

True love?

I almost laughed out loud.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might be married?"

Julian scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Who would have you?"

His words turned my blood to ice.

"Think about it," Julian started pacing, like he was giving a business pitch. "You're impulsive, stubborn, and you don't know the rules of high society. Worse, you come from the mob. Besides me, who else would possibly want you?"

I watched him, letting him perform.

"And your family's situation now—" He shook his head, a mask of fake sympathy on his face. "I heard your father's operation has been struggling since he stepped down as underboss. You need me, Sera. Just like old times."

"Used to?"

Julian walked over to the black roses, stroking a petal.

"I planted these for you, remember? Black roses. For your black hair."

He turned back, a strange glint in his eye.

"You kept them. For two years, you kept them. What does that tell you?"

I didn't answer.

"It means you still love me," he announced. "It means you were waiting for me to come back."

"Julian—"

"I know I was wrong to break up with you," he cut me off. "But that was my father's decision, not mine. It's different now. I have my own business, my own fortune. I can give you everything you want."

He pulled a key from his pocket.

"The key to a penthouse in Manhattan. Your new home."

"I don't need it."

"Of course you do." Julian walked toward me. "You can't keep living in this rundown estate. The penthouse has a rooftop terrace, a private elevator, and—"

"I said I don't need it."

Julian stopped, a wounded look on his face. "Sera, don't be like this. I know you're still angry, but I'll make it right. We can all be happy."

All happy?

Who the hell did this arrogant bastard think he was?

"You think you can have us both?"

"It's not about having us both," Julian corrected. "It's reality. I need Tiffany's family to secure my position. But I need you to fill my heart. It's the best arrangement for everyone."

I stared at him, at the absolute entitlement in his eyes.

Two years, and he hadn't changed a bit.

Still selfish. Still arrogant. Still thought the world revolved around him.

"I'll have my lawyers draw up a contract," he continued. "You'll be set for life."

"You'll need to be discreet, of course. We can't have any trouble. But you're good at that. You always were good at knowing your place."

Knowing my place?

I grabbed the pruning shears next to me and hurled them at him.

"Get the hell out of my sight!"
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  • You Want a Mistress I’m Already a Queen   Chapter 10

    After Julian’s “accident,” Old Man Astor cut his losses. He shipped his disgraced son off to a remote sanatorium in Europe to appease the Morettis.But his sick obsession never died.For years after, on my birthday, a single black rose would appear silently at the gates of the Moretti estate.It crossed an ocean, passed through countless hands, a ghost from the past arriving right on schedule.The first year, Dante threw it into the fireplace himself, the flames reflecting on his cold face.The second year, he couldn’t be bothered to touch it, just had a guard dispose of it.The third year, he looked at the rose and offered his only comment: “A cripple. This pathetic ritual is all he has left.”This pathetic little ritual continued for five years.Then, on my birthday in the sixth year, a massive storm hit Chicago. Thunder cracked the sky open.The gates of the estate remained empty.A few days later, one of Dante’s men handed me a report.The sanatorium in Europe reported that Julian

  • You Want a Mistress I’m Already a Queen   Chapter 9

    For Tiffany Vanderbilt, the gala was a public crucifixion.She was the perfect product, labeled “Astor’s Fiancée,” only to be discarded by the man who was supposed to be hers—in front of all of Chicago’s elite.Every look Julian gave Seraphina, every step he took to follow her, was a slap across Tiffany's face.When she returned to the Vanderbilt estate, she didn’t cry. She didn’t break a thing.She simply took off the Chanel gown and threw it in the fireplace.She watched the expensive fabric curl and blacken in the flames, just like her pride, which had already burned to ash.Her initial plan was simple.Just an old flame Julian couldn’t forget. A washed-up debutante with a touch of mob dirt.She had a hundred ways to make a girl like that disappear quietly.Or ruin her reputation so completely she could never show her face in front of Julian again.Twenty-four hours later, a coded file was delivered to her desk.Tiffany opened it gracefully. The confident smile on her face froze, th

  • You Want a Mistress I’m Already a Queen   Chapter 8

    “Our life?” My laugh was pure ice. “Which one? The one where I was your dirty little secret, sneaking out of your little love nest? Or five years ago, when I needed you, and you threw me away like trash for your ‘family duty’?”“That was different! I had no choice!” Julian pleaded.“It’s not different!” I bit out each word. “Your love is a prize you think you can claim whenever it’s convenient. Julian, you don’t know the first thing about love.”“Who says he doesn’t?”A voice, colder than a grave, came from the shadows of the terrace.Julian’s blood froze.Dante stepped out of the darkness, the moonlight carving out the hard line of his jaw.He looked like the devil himself, come to collect a soul. His eyes were empty of all warmth.“You… How are you here?” Julian’s voice was a wreck.“My wife is here,” Dante said, walking to my side and pulling me into his arms. His hand covered mine on the dagger, his touch a steady, burning heat. “Why shouldn’t I be?”He looked at Julian like he was

  • You Want a Mistress I’m Already a Queen   Chapter 7

    Dante’s reflection materialized in the mirror. A silent, carved statue.He didn’t bother to lean against the doorframe. He strode right in, carrying the faint scent of cordite from his pre-gala “meeting.”He took the lipstick from my hand and tossed it onto the table. It made a sharp clatter.“I don’t like that color,” his voice was low, dangerous. “Too red. Like blood.”I met his eyes in the mirror and shot back a cold smile. “What are you afraid of, Dante? That it reminds you of their blood… or mine?”Ever since the opera, the chill coming off him had been constant.He’d been sleeping in his study. Punishing me with silence.He closed the distance in a single step, planting his hands on the vanity on either side of me. He trapped me in his shadow.“Show me where he touched your wrist,” he demanded, his eyes dissecting me.“He’s a nobody. And he touched nothing important.” I kept pushing.His fingers clamped around my jaw, forcing my head up. “Sera. Don’t test me like this.”“Or what?

  • You Want a Mistress I’m Already a Queen   Chapter 6

    Julian locked himself in his penthouse and let the days bleed together.Empty whiskey bottles were strewn across the Persian rug.He wasn't passed out on the sofa. He sat bolt upright, staring at his phone. At the only picture he had of Sera.In the photo, her smile was bright and fierce. A rose with thorns, fighting for the sun.That was his Sera.Not Dante Moretti’s.The name was a brand on his soul.The Devil of Chicago. The king of the Outfit.His father's slaps and shouts still rang in his ears. Stern letters from the family patriarchs piled up at his door.Everyone told him the same thing: Let her go.But that just fanned the flames inside him.It was a sick, gnawing jealousy. The kind you feel for something stolen. A desperate need to drag her back from the devil himself.“Sir,” his assistant’s voice trembled through the door. “An ultimatum from the Astor family. If you don’t show, they’re starting the process to disinherit you... Also, the invitation for the Chicago United Char

  • You Want a Mistress I’m Already a Queen   Chapter 5

    Julian’s POVOne week later.Three black Rolls-Royces pulled up outside the Venti family villa.Julian stared out the window of the Rolls-Royce, his jaw tight. Anger, jealousy, humiliation—it was a bitter cocktail churning in his gut."Sir, shall we proceed?" the driver asked.Julian nodded.The cars rolled slowly toward the main entrance of the estate.Seraphina's father—old man Venti—was waiting on the steps.The old man's face was a mask of stone.Julian got out of the car, straightening his suit."Mr. Venti. I'm here for Sera."The old man didn't respond."We had an arrangement," Julian said, walking up the steps. "Where is she?""She's not here.""What do you mean, not here?" Julian frowned. "We agreed on today—""She's back where she belongs," the old man cut him off."Where she belongs?" Julian was getting more confused. "What place is that?""Chicago."Julian felt a wave of dizziness."What… what is she doing in Chicago?"The old man's voice was as cold as iron. "She went back

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