Obsessive Short Stories & Mistress Cheating Novels

"Hi there, I'd like to emigrate." Christina stood at the counter and handed over the neatly prepared documents to the clerk on the other side of the glass. The clerk quickly stamped each page. The red ink spread like tiny ripples on still water. Then, without looking up, he pulled out another form and passed it back to her. "Ma'am, your paperwork will be processed in fifteen days." Christina nodded, turned on her heel, and headed for the exit. But before she could step outside, whispers trailed after her. "Did I see that right? Mrs. Waldorf is applying for emigration? Did she have a squabble with Mr. Waldorf?" "Even if they argued, would it go this far? Mr. Waldorf practically worships her. What could possibly make her leave so decisively?" "Exactly. Five years ago, their wedding was the event of the century. Even someone like me, who barely goes online, heard about it. And three years ago, after her car accident, the blood bank ran out of stock. Mr. Waldorf ignored everyone's objections and nearly drained himself to save her. Then, just last year, when she disappeared for an hour, he mobilized every media outlet worldwide to find her. Now she's leaving without a word—won't that drive him insane?" The murmurs swirled and lingered, but Christina only smiled faintly. Her expression was calm, but her eyes darkened with a bitterness that deepened with every step. Yes, she thought. Everyone knew just how much Lucien Waldorf loved her.

Neil Jackson's true love steals highly radioactive materials, but I'm the one who's facing a jail sentence. I find the thief, but Lorraine Larsen refuses to own up to her crimes. Even my longtime boyfriend refuses to act as a witness for me. All he wants to do is send me to jail. It's too bad they don't know I'm a researcher at the nation's secret research center. They also have no idea that they've stolen highly radioactive materials—they can easily be killed by those.

Conned by Francis Slade, I sold my kidney to raise funds for his failed investment. And the house was bought with all my savings. But now, it had become their love nest. "Ms. Lane, you look like you were rolling around in a mud pit. What happened to you?" Whitney Jones smiled smugly. My already injured body trembled with anger when I saw her smug expression. Forcing myself to remain calm, I answered, "This is my home. What are you doing here?" In response, Francis glared at me angrily. "Whitney caught a cold, so I invited her over to take a hot shower. Can't you even tolerate such small acts of kindness?" Whitney had accidentally stepped on blood that was flowing from my leg. She instinctively grabbed Francis out of fear. With a trembling voice, she told him, "Francis, I think she's injured." I knew Francis thought I was just trying to gain his sympathy again. "Alright now, Whitney will be sleeping in your room tonight. Once you're done with the act, go clean yourself up and set up a bed for her." If she was after my room, she could have it. If she was after the man who never loved me, she could have him.

I've been married to Derek Gunther for many years. Every anniversary, he tells me the airline scheduled him for a flight, then sends an expensive pair of earrings to smooth things over. But on our ninth anniversary, I accidentally overhear him joking with his friends. "Derek, you spend every anniversary with Ivy—and Sienna still hasn't caught on?" "No wonder she can't get pregnant. After all, you give all to Ivy." Derek exhales a stream of smoke and says, "Ivy gave up everything to be with me. I owe her a real home. As for Sienna, I stopped loving her after she miscarried. When the time's right, I'll file for divorce. It's unfair, sure—but I'll make it up to her with money." What Derek doesn't know is that he won't get that chance. It's on our anniversary that I'm diagnosed with late-stage ovarian cancer. Since he stopped loving me long ago, I'm ready to walk away on my own terms. Derek, from now on, we're done.

Everyone knew I, Isabella Marino, was Vince Moretti's greatest weakness—the one thing the mafia boss would never tolerate being touched. Years ago, when I was kidnapped, Vince disarmed himself at gunpoint, risking death to get me back, even paying his entire fortune for my ransom. To keep me from harm, he walked a razor's edge, navigating danger at every turn. After I got pregnant, he waited on me hand and foot, barely letting my feet touch the ground. There were rumors that he kept a pampered mistress outside—some woman he spoiled rotten. I never believed them. But then she flaunted herself in front of me. To beg for my forgiveness, Vince cut off his own finger. The next day, that woman slapped her pregnancy test results in my face, sneering, "Vince wanted a baby with me so badly, he just couldn't help himself!" I was already frail. The shock and rage sent me into a miscarriage.

At 4:30 in the morning, my husband answered a call from his ex-girlfriend and accidentally put it on speaker. "Jason, my daughter, Alison, has a fever—over 104. I can't get a ride..." The sudden sound of sobbing jolted me awake. Jason hurriedly turned off the speaker and lowered his voice. "Send me your location. I'll come right away." It seemed he had forgotten that today was my first prenatal checkup.

Everyone is jealous of Scarlett Meyer's perfect marriage because her husband is so in love with her that it's literally carved into his bones. However, it isn't until the day she finds out she's pregnant that she realizes her husband, Joachim Davidson, has been cheating on her for the past two years. And the person he's cheating on her with? Katrina Greene, Scarlett's college bully. Katrina even has a pair of twins with Joachim. Katrina won't stop provoking Scarlett, and Joachim also continues lying to her face to be with Katrina. To get back at her cheating husband, Scarlett decides to abort her baby and fake her own death. But just before she leaves for good, she puts the abortion report and proof of Katrina's provocation in an envelope and gifts it to Joachim, telling him that he can only open it a few days later.

Every time my husband cheated, he gave me a bracelet. I collected 99 bracelets in four years of marriage—I forgave him 99 times. He was away on a business trip for three days lately. When he came back, he brought home a rare bracelet worth Ten Million Dollars. That was when I knew it was time to ask for a divorce.

Dakota Stelter and I tumbled down that steep ravine together. I lay there bleeding and broken, only to watch my boyfriend scoop her into his arms and walk away without a backward glance. He left me. In that moment, in every way that mattered. While everyone fussed over Dakota's scratches, no one even checked if I was still breathing. When I was finally rescued and recovering at the hospital, my boyfriend didn't even visit. I was hurt. So I moved on. Piece by piece, I rebuilt myself without him. But then he became distraught. Suddenly, he was sobbing, telling me he had always loved me.

I tried to die a hundred times to make him notice me. For two years, I was Shawn Scott’s wife in name only—an unwanted bride bound by a scandal, left to live in the shadow of another woman. My parents only saw my faults. My husband only saw my mistakes. As for me? I saw no way out. Every time I tried to end it, I’d wake up again, bruised and humiliated. I was greeted not with concern, but accusations such as "Why are you so selfish, Zoe Jennings?" or "Why can’t you be more like your sister Yvonne?" It wasn’t until my hundredth suicide attempt that I finally understood: I was the only one fighting for a love that never existed. So, I stopped. I walked away. I disappeared. I gave them what they wanted—my absence. However, when I left, the man who never looked at me twice started chasing the ghost of the woman he thought he knew. By the time he realized what he truly lost, I was already learning how to live again.

I secretly sent Lena Parker, my husband Dominic Caballero's mistress, away to Sicara. I'm defying his authority as the Don of Coastwick, New Hudson. That very night, he abducts my parents and younger brother, using their lives to force me to reveal Lena's whereabouts. Dominic pushes his phone in front of me. On the screen, I see my family tied to chairs, the timer of the bombs ticking down. 00:59:59 00:59:58 He sits across from me and taps his fingers softly against the table, like he's closing a business deal. "Alyssa, you have 59 minutes," Dominic says in a calm, almost gentle voice. "Where's Lena?" I freeze, my throat tightening as if strangled. I can't get a word out. This is the third time he's pressed me. The first time, he asked where Lena had gone, but I stayed silent. The second time, he grabbed my chin and said in a low voice, "Alyssa, don't play games." Now, for the third time, he's threatening my family's lives. "Dominic…" I call out, my voice trembling. "They're my family. They're the most important people to me." He chuckles. "Is that so? Then why didn't you think about how important Lena is to me when you sent her away?" I stare at him, feeling how utterly absurd it all is. Important? He told me before that other women were just playthings. Once he got bored, he'd dump them. He swore I was the only one he loved. But now, for Lena, he's willing to kill my family.

I'm in the middle of my pediatric shift when an emergency call comes in. A three-year-old boy arrives, hemorrhaging and unconscious from a car crash, but there is no matching blood type in the bank. Then, it hits me that my husband, Ethan Stone, has the same blood type, so I ask him to donate blood right away. When he arrives and stands frozen to the spot, I can no longer hold back my rage. "What are you waiting for? Saving his life is the priority here!" That's when the boy's mother sprints over and screams, "No! Close family can't donate! He's the boy's father!"

I watched as my boyfriend put the ring that he had promised to give me on Sophie White's finger at her birthday party. When I questioned him, Mark Goodman shrugged nonchalantly. "I promised to marry Sophie. Since that's not happening now, the ring is compensation." I was left speechless from rage and so disenchanted that I decided to cut all ties with him. Everyone was cheering when Mark later showed up at a gathering with Sophie, both wearing a matching set of rings. But when they all thought I would make a scene, I smiled faintly. "You two really deserve each other. When are you getting married? Do send me an invite."

After three years of relentless pursuit, I finally won over Logan—a guy who had never shown the slightest interest in women—and he cherished me like I was his entire world. On the eve of our wedding, I accidentally overheard one of his friends teasing him, "Logan, are you really ready to step into the grave of marriage for Bella? And what about Joann? She's chased you for so many years. Don't you feel anything for her?" Logan's voice was cold. "If we hadn't grown up together, I wouldn't even want to see Joann's face. She could never compare to Bella, ever." So, I held onto dreams for our future, and I married him. Two years later, at our daughter's hundred-day celebration, Joann came to me in tears, claiming her baby had leukemia—and that only my daughter could save her baby. Logan's eyes reddened instantly, and without hesitation, he sent our daughter into the operating room to have her blood drawn. I struggled in the bodyguards' grip desperately, crying and pleading, "Logan, Lily is still so little. She can't take this. She'll die! Please, use the cord blood I stored for her. I'm begging you, let her go." He kicked me aside. "It's just a bit of blood. Joann's baby is dying, and you're still this selfish? Get out!" When the surgery was over, he tossed a divorce agreement at me. "Joann's child is mine. I have to give them both a name, and I'm taking her abroad for treatment." I stared at my silent, motionless daughter in the operating room, my heart turning to ash. "Fine." Six years later, Logan saw me in a baby store, holding the hand of my five-year-old son. Logan reached out with a pained look, trying to pick him up. "Why did you cut Lily's hair so short? She looks like a boy. What were you thinking?"

Ian Tost was the prince of the notorious underworld. Everyone in Harbor City knew he spoiled me rotten. He even went so far as to hire ninety-nine female bodyguards to keep me from harm. It did not prevent a kidnapping attempt on me. One of those bodyguards, Cece Yates, ended up with nothing more than a scratch. Ian immediately brought in the nation’s top medical specialists to treat her. To comfort her, he even took her to the Maldives for a vacation and gifted her an island. Not long after they returned from their trip, Beatrix Kazinsky, my mother, suddenly suffered a stroke and was hospitalized. Then, Michael Kazinsky, my younger brother, died in an accident during a competition. I burst into the morgue while in tears, only to overhear Ian comforting Cece. “All right now, it was my fault you got hurt last time. I’ve made Mira’s family pay for it. You’ve got too much grace to hold a grudge against her.” With my nails digging into my palms, I finally realized everything that had happened to my family was Ian’s doing. It was all just because his precious bodyguard got hurt because of me! I stumbled out of the hospital with my brother’s death certificate in a daze. On my phone, messages from that person kept coming. It added up to ninety-nine share transfer agreements, along with his promise. [As long as you want me, my arms will always be open for you.]

Seven years into their marriage, Bella got hit with a truth—Steven had a kid. A six-year-old. She crouched behind the preschool slide, barely breathing, as Steven bent down to scoop the boy up. "Daddy, you haven't come to see me in forever." "Be good, Ollie. Work's been crazy. Listen to your mom, alright?" Bella froze. Same face. Same eyes. It was obvious. Everything about them screamed it—The man who swore he'd love her forever had been cheating on her this whole time. Steven and Bella weren't just a couple. They were childhood sweethearts. She once took a knife for him. Nearly died. Lost their baby. Lost the chance to ever have one again. Steven had held her hand back then, eyes red, saying, "I don't care if we never have kids. As long as I have you, that's enough." She still heard the shake in his voice. Now? Every promise. Every memory. All of it—gone.

My husband, who's a negotiation expert, allows his intern to recklessly anger some criminals. It causes me, the hostage, to suffer severe injuries in the explosion, and my right leg breaks because of it. Yet, my husband once again issues a letter of forgiveness for her. "My wife, as a reporter, ignored warnings and forced contact with the criminals to get the scoop. The main responsibility lies with her. Kimberly, being a newcomer, should not bear major fault." I don't cry or make a scene. I simply pull out a divorce agreement. However, he sneers at me. "I know you're just jealous and want me to comfort you, but don't cross the line." For the past three years, I've brought up the topic of divorce 47 times, and each time, he treats it like I'm just throwing a tantrum. But it's different this time. His name has already been signed on this divorce agreement. As long as I add my signature to it, it will take effect immediately.

After Jacob Locke brings up breaking up with me once again, I don't wait for him to say anything else. I pack up my things and move out on my own, then quietly cut ties with our past. On the first day, I cancel the wedding planner I booked three years ago but kept delaying. On the second day, I turn off the automatic payments for his mother's treatment. I also politely refuse his sister when she reaches out for money. On the third day, I accept my superior's transfer proposal and get ready to settle down in a southern city. The moment I board the plane, I suddenly get curious. Without me, the free housekeeper who hasn't taken a break in the past decade and the always-on ATM, how will Jacob fare? How will he care for his paralyzed mother, deal with his vain sister, and face his precious junior who's the apple of his eye?

After Caesar Shepherd went overseas with his lover, Florence Lane, about a month passed with no news about Ivy Rivers. Only then did Caesar realize something was wrong. When he had time, he gave his secretary, Morgan, a call. "How's the wound on Ivy's leg? Is she still angry at me for taking her skin for Florence's skin graft?" The opposite side of the line was quiet for a long time. Then, Morgan said softly, "Ms. Rivers was discharged from the hospital and left the residence a month ago." Caesar finally remembered Ivy's eyes full of despair and determination on the day he protected Florence in his arms when the hotel collapsed. That wasn't sorrow. No. That was goodbye.

When I was nine, I was caught in the blast while trying to save Joel Yorks, and the loud wave took away my hearing. Since then, I have had to wear hearing aids. Joel felt guilty. He insisted on having my hand in marriage. With his eyes welling up in tears, he swore, “Helen, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” However, when I turned eighteen… Everything changed because he wanted to please the prettiest girl in the school. He ripped off my hearing aid in front of her and our classmates and said in disdain, “I’ve had enough of you being a burden. I really wish you hadn’t survived that day when you were nine. It would have been better if you were dead.” I clutched my audiology report and stayed silent. When I got home, I quietly revised my college applications and formally broke the engagement along with my parents. Joel and I would go our separate ways after that. We would not need to meet again.