All Chapters of Scent of my mistress : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Damian went home after the board meeting that day. His shoulders sagged against the leather seat of the car, his hand resting idly on the phone he had tried calling countless times. He had seen Ava earlier that afternoon, lingering at the company before she disappeared. But now her number wasn’t going through. The silence gnawed at him, each unanswered attempt stirring something between frustration and dread.The ride home was heavy, thick with his thoughts. The city lights bled through the tinted windows, flickering across his face, but none of it registered. He leaned back, loosening his tie, eyes closed, yet no rest came. By the time the car pulled into the driveway, he was wound tight with worry.Inside, Lydia was on a call. Her voice was low, polished, controlled , the kind of tone she used when she wanted to appear untouched by whatever storms brewed around her. Rachel had called her earlier to inform her about the board’s decision, but Lydia wanted confirmation from Damian hims

The room greeted her with silence when she slipped inside. It was past one in the morning, the hour when the city outside slowed but her mind refused to. Ava let her handbag drop carelessly onto the vanity table, the metallic clasp clicking against the wood. She exhaled, a sound closer to a groan than a sigh, then walked toward the bathroom.The splash of water against her face awoken her slightly . She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her eyeliner smudged, her lips pale, her expression worn. The day had stripped her raw, and no amount of powder or perfume could cover the truth.When she returned to the bedroom, the sheets were neatly made, untouched. She sat on the edge of the bed, her body heavy, her thoughts heavier. One by one, the events of the day replayed in her mind: the boardroom, the verdict that had clipped her wings, and then Samuel.Samuel.The thought made her chest tighten. She had given in, crossed a line she couldn’t uncross. Their bodies had tangled in heat, r

The morning afterThe faint spill of daylight pushed itself into the room, a muted brightness that clung to the heavy curtains. Ava had not truly slept. She had drifted in and out of shallow slumber, chased by fragments of memory, by the taste of Samuel’s mouth, by the way his hands had claimed her as if she were his to keep. Each time she closed her eyes, the night replayed itself in sharper detail, a sensual torment threaded with panic.She rose slowly, her head heavy, her body aching in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. The sheets were twisted around her, evidence of her restless turning. She slid from the bed and padded barefoot to the window, pulling the curtains apart just enough to let in the morning. The city outside was already awake, traffic humming distantly, indifferent to her private storm.Ava pressed her forehead against the cool glass and allowed herself one breath of weakness. Her reflection stared back at her,hair mussed, eyes shadowed, lips still swollen from

The night was merciless.Damian lay sprawled on the bed, staring at the ceiling as though the plastered whiteness could yield answers. It didn’t. The silence of the room felt louder than the distant hum of the city. The muted glow from the skyscrapers outside their window fell in shifting streaks across the floor, but it was cold comfort.Sleep eluded him.Every time he closed his eyes, the picture flashed again in his mind: Lydia, his Lydia, caught in Ava’s arms. Not in a way that could be mistaken for friendship, not in a casual gesture of closeness, but in a manner that spoke of intimacy, of secrets carved into the flesh.He shifted restlessly, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. What haunted him was not only the picture, but Lydia’s reaction earlier that night. She had not flinched. She had not cried or apologized or begged for forgiveness. No, she had looked at him with those calm, unbreakable eyes and said the words that now sliced through him: “I won’t insult your

Ava walked into the office that morning with no idea of the storm waiting for her. The sun was bright outside, the lobby unusually quiet, but the moment she reached the entrance to Damian’s floor she felt the shift in the air. He was there, standing rigid like a man carved out of stone, his face red with anger, his fists clenched at his sides.“Meet me inside. Now,” he ordered, his voice sharp enough to cut through the silence that echoed.Confusion twisted through her chest. Something was wrong. Badly wrong. She followed him, her heels clicking against the polished marble, each sound echoing like a countdown to her own undoing.Damian spun around before the door closed.His voice roared through the office, carrying the weight of weeks of frustration.“How could you, Ava? Going after my wife too? After everything, after all the times I stood by you, this is what you were doing behind my back?”The words hit her like glass shattering across her skin. Ava froze where she stood, her pulse