Mistress Countdown Short Stories & Novels

After my partner, Kael Arden, and I decided to hold our mating ceremony, his childhood sweetheart, Mira Frost, suddenly left on her own, heading to the dangerous border overrun with rogue wolves. On the very day our mating ceremony was to take place, news came that she had died in an accident. Kael showed no reaction. He still followed the steps of the ceremony and completed the mutual marking with me. However, on the day I was heavily pregnant and about to give birth, he forced an entire bottle of silver water down my throat and locked me in the basement. As I died in agony, I still heard his cold voice beside my ear. "Mira’s death was all because of you! You couldn’t stand her, so you deliberately forced her to the border! You have to pay the price!" When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to seven days before the mating ceremony... Since he loved Mira that much, I would choose to make them whole in this life.

At the Thanksgiving dinner, Raphael's assistant Daphne was sitting in my seat. I frowned at Raphael. “Why is she in the Donna's seat? Doesn’t she know, and don’t you?” Raphael clicked his tongue, impatient. “You're the one who showed up late. People sit where they want. If it bothers you, leave.” I opened my mouth to argue, and his thoughts reached me before I could. [Scarlett, get angry. Fight back.] [Tell me you're my wife, the Donna of the Sterling family, that no one else has the right to sit at my side.] [Prove you love me. It's the only thing that makes me feel safe.] This time, I didn't give his thoughts what they were begging for. I slid the wedding ring off my finger instead. “That's the Donna's seat. If you've decided she belongs in it, I won't argue.” “Let's get divorced.”

After Graduation, I Married Lucas Bellmont, the Hottest Star Captain in American Hockey. Three years into our marriage, he suddenly became obsessed with my body, a complete 180 from his usual cold demeanor. He wanted me night after night, saying he wanted us to have a child. Despite the ache in my body, my heart swelled with sweetness. I thought he'd finally accepted me. At a gala, I shared the news with my best friend—Lucas's adopted sister, Clara. She ran off in tears. Lucas, usually so composed, went pale. He lashed out at me for saying such things in front of Clara, then left without a second thought. I followed, worried, and found them locked in an embrace. "If it weren't for you, I'd never have married her. If it weren't for your pregnancy, I wouldn't be touching her now." "Everything I'm doing—making her have the baby quickly so we can swap it with ours—it's all for our future. So our child can be the rightful heir." "Clara, just hold on a little longer, okay?" Lucas's voice was softer than I'd ever heard it. All for another woman. His adopted sister. My so-called best friend. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I turned around and called my lawyer for a divorce agreement. Since he'd never loved me. In seven days, I'd be gone from his life for good.

As a world-renowned genius, I only gave up on the top universities' offer and went to the same community college as her because she asked, "Will you go to the same college as me? I'd love to see you every day." I thought I had met the right woman until her conversation with her friend suggested otherwise. "He's not my boyfriend," she said. "Think of him as a clever dog. I only keep him around because he entertains me." Her friend mentioned a name, Aidan Stewart. Her expression softened at the mention of Aidan. "Aidan isn't like him. Aidan is a blessing heaven sent to me." At that moment, I finally realized what I was to her. I didn't wait any longer. I called the professor who favored me and said, "Dr. Anderson, I'll take on the drug research."

My mate, Raelor Thorne, is the Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack. He once swore that in this lifetime, he would mark only me. Yet one month before our marking ceremony, he insisted that he must first mark with Seraphine Morcant, his late brother's mate. He claimed it was to comfort her and preserve his brother's bloodline. He said he would help her conceive an heir, so the line would not die. I refused. He brought it up every day after that, pressing harder each time, leaving me no room to breathe. Then, half a month before the ceremony, I received a report from the Pack Healing Sanctum. It stated clearly that Seraphine had already been marked and was nearly one month pregnant. In that moment, I finally understood. Raelor had never intended to ask for my consent. So I canceled the marking ceremony. I burned every token that tied us together. On the day we were meant to bind our lives, I left Silvermoon Territory alone. I traveled to the Obsidian Pack to further my mastery of healing arts and formally accepted the position of Chief Healer within their Order. From that day forward, there would be nothing left between Raelor and me. No bond. No mercy. No return.

“Ma’am, there’s no marriage record between you and Mr. Mark Henderson in the system.” My fingers tightened around the pregnancy report as my legs nearly gave out beneath me. Five years ago, Mark was recruited by a top law firm abroad with a high-paying offer. Without hesitation, I followed him across the ocean. He had told me, “Once I’m settled, I’ll take care of your status.” However, five years had passed, and my lawful permanent residence was still “in process.” Meanwhile, his assistant, Tonya Irving, who followed him abroad, had secured hers under his sponsorship. Back then, I made a scene, insisting on a divorce so I could return home. For the first time, the ever-composed Mark, an attorney, lost his calm. He grabbed my hand and said, “Tonya’s all alone out here, and it hasn’t been easy for her. Helping her is just the right thing to do. You’re my wife. Your status is only a matter of time. My work is sensitive right now, and I need to avoid any complications. You understand, don’t you?” But I had understood him for five whole years. My phone suddenly rang. Mark’s voice came through, light with laughter. “Tonya’s permanent residence was approved today. We’re celebrating tonight. I need you to get home early and cook up a feast.” I stared at the marriage license in my hand—now nothing more than a worthless piece of paper. A cold chill spread down my spine. As it turned out, I was never his legal wife. I had no legal status and no protection, much less rights secured for the child I was carrying. After hanging up, I scheduled an abortion and booked the earliest flight home. This time, I wouldn’t look back.

The night my boyfriend confessed his feelings for me, he cried so hard he could barely speak. He said he'd somehow seen the future and wanted me to make him a promise. I asked him why. He only said, “I don't remember. I just remember that the future me regretted everything. More than anything. “Yvette, no matter what happens in the future, promise you'll give me three chances, okay?” I was deeply in love with him then, so of course I agreed without hesitation. But later, he seemed to forget all about that promise. Especially when he became inseparable from his female assistant. It wasn't until I signed my name on the divorce papers that I finally understood why he'd asked me for those three chances. Because just as I signed my name, a voice suddenly sounded beside my ear. It was Luke. Luke Miller at nineteen. He was crying. “Yvette, you promised me, remember? “You said you'd give me three chances.”

Seven days before our bonding ceremony, I overheard my mate joking with his friends. He had already moved our bonding from the snowfield altar I chose to the coastside grounds because Lyra liked the sea. But that was not the part that made them fall silent. What shocked them was that he had also prepared a Luna crown for her. One of them laughed nervously. “Changing the bonding site is one thing. Maybe Serena will forgive that. But the Luna crown? That’s different. For a woman, that crown means everything. Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave?” My mate only smiled, calm and certain. “It’s just a crown. Serena won’t care.” “She loves me. When has she ever refused me anything? She’s not going to throw a tantrum over something this small.” And for the first time, I realized he was right about one thing. I had loved him enough to forgive too much. But not anymore. So when the bonding day came and he stood at the coastside grounds calling for me again and again, I only watched the snow fall outside the window and thought: He was right. I did not make a scene. I did not demand an explanation. I just walked away without a word. He thought that meant it was nothing. He would only understand later that a woman who leaves in silence is not giving you another chance—she is leaving you with nothing but regret.

In the tenth year of my marriage to a genius pianist, I came down with a strange illness. A month ago, my husband missed my birthday party to care for his ailing sister-in-law. Night after night, I had waited for him to return home. But that night I forgot to wait at all and went to bed early. Half a month ago, he attended an important performance with his sister-in-law. I had always been petty and prone to jealousy, yet this time I didn't get angry. I simply went home in silence. Three days ago, I fell seriously ill with a burning fever. My husband rushed back from out of town in a panic—but only to tend to his sister-in-law, whose hand had been scalded. When we ran into each other at the hospital, I was strangely calm. I, who used to be fiercely jealous, felt nothing at all. I forgot the promise we had made to grow old together. I even forgot how he once fretted over me for days when I'd scraped a bit of skin. It wasn't until he said he wanted to bring his sister-in-law home and take care of her for the rest of his life that I—my memories riddled with holes—summoned the system at last. "I want to go home."

I loved my husband, Damian, for fifteen years—from school uniforms to a wedding dress. Everyone said he doted on me down to his bones. Until I saw him with my own eyes, shielding another woman in his arms. All because of one absurd misunderstanding, he chose to cheat on me as payback—and even let his mistress get pregnant without a flicker of guilt. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I just smiled and tricked him into signing the divorce papers, ready to disappear from his world for good. But I never expected that his best friend, Lucian, had been waiting for me in the shadows all along. I used to think he was gloomy, that he hated me. I never knew that he had loved me for fifteen years like a madman. When Damian finally realized his mistake and got down on his knees begging me to come back, he found me locked in Lucian's arms. Damian stared at his former best friend, almost unhinged: "She's my wife! You went behind my back and took my brother's woman—do you have any morals?!" Lucian just flung the signed divorce certificate in his face, and smiled—cold, and utterly possessive: "I'm chasing my own wife. What morals do I need?" "And watch your filthy mouth. From now on, you call her Mrs. Kane."

Everyone knew that Daniel Cardea kept the most obedient mistress. I had no temper, no dignity, and no spine. I stayed ready to kneel at his feet. This lawyer, the best in all of Silverton, trapped the rest of my life with a single contract. He felt certain that no law could help me break it. He was right. The law governed the living, not the dead. On his 30th birthday, I planned to give him a carefully prepared gift. I planned to end this indefinite contract with my heart once it stopped beating. February 16, 2026. It was three days until Daniel’s birthday, three days until the surprise arrived.

Yarden Stone had been cheating on me for three years, yet he had hidden the other woman so well that I could never catch him. Once, I found a lace choker in the back seat of his car. It still held someone’s body warmth. More than once, I had noticed fresh bite marks behind his ear. Every time, I would lose my mind. I would tear the house apart and demand to know who the woman was. Yarden would always frown wearily. “Lily, how long are you going to keep suspecting me of cheating? If you’re going to accuse me, then at least find the woman you claim I’m seeing.” I started following him around twenty-four hours a day. I even called all our friends and relatives and had them wait outside hotels and apartment buildings to catch him in the act. But every time we broke down a door, we found Yarden sitting on the couch in perfectly neat clothes. He always said, “Are you going to search this place?” When we left, my mom took my hand and sighed. “Lily, trust is the most important thing in a marriage. You cause a scene every day. What do you think that does to Yarden’s reputation?” Even my best friend tried to talk some sense into me. “You’re under too much stress. Maybe it’s all in your head.” But I remembered the lipstick that was still on Yarden Stone’s lips. He had not wiped it off completely. The color was so bright that it almost hurt my eyes.

The day my overseas assignment finally ended, I kept my return a secret from Marielle Knox and spent thirteen hours flying home. We'd argued only a few days earlier. Marielle wanted me to keep building my career abroad, but I was determined to come home and marry her. Even as I was about to board, she was still trying to talk me out of it over the phone. "Weston, don't throw away your future for me. As long as we love each other, it doesn't matter whether we get married." Hearing that only made me more certain. The moment I landed, I went straight to a jewelry store, bought a diamond ring, and called my childhood best friend, Chase Davis, to tell him about my proposal plan. A baby was wailing on his end of the line. Chase tried to soothe the child and snapped at me, "Weston Brown, wake up! You've been long-distance for five years, and she keeps putting off the wedding. She obviously doesn't want to marry you. "Marriage is where love goes to die. Ever since my wife had the baby, I've been losing my mind!" I was about to argue when I saw Chase walk out of a baby store, holding a child. "My wife's here. Talk later." He hung up in a hurry and waved toward the curb. A black luxury sedan pulled up in front of him. The door opened, and a woman took the baby from his arms and rocked him with the ease of someone who'd done it a thousand times. Sunlight fell across her profile, and the sight stung my eyes. The wife my best friend had kept secret for two years was Marielle—the girlfriend I'd spent five years loving from the other side of the world.

Lindsey Johnson asks her fiance's true love, Stephanie Sullivan, to repay her debt. The next day, Jacob Whitaker throws at her a ledger that she had never seen before. Every single expense from their five-year relationship is recorded inside. From small things like two-dollar ice cream to the expensive items like the luxury bags he gave her. Even the costs of hotel stays and condoms are recorded in the ledger. "I'll split half the hotel bills with you. After deducting the 100 grand Stephie owes you, you still owe me 2.08 million. You have one month to transfer the month to my account."

Three years after remarrying her childhood sweetheart, Greg Gilliam, Kathleen Whelan attends a casual alumni get-together. There, she overhears a secret about her husband. Rita Elway, once the prettiest woman on campus, has clearly had too much to drink. When someone asks about the wildest thing she's ever done, she swirls her glass. Her eyes are glassy, and there's a taunting edge to her voice. "Being Greg's other woman, obviously! And his wife is so stupid, she actually thinks we broke things off. I had his baby, I live in his mansion, drive one of his prized supercars, spend his money, and even have his family's staff waiting on me!" The room goes dead silent. Every eye turns to Kathleen. After all, she's Greg's wife, and everyone is waiting for her to lose it. But Kathleen doesn't cry or make a scene. When a server comes by to refill her glass, she simply says, "Thank you," as calmly as ever.

A week before the wedding, Angela Spears receives an anonymous email in her inbox. As soon as she clicks on the link in the email, the jarring imagery that pops out before her makes it hard for her to breathe. The link leads to a porn website called "Animal World", and it is filled with videos of explicit sexual acts. All porn actors and actresses in the videos wear animal masks as they entwine their bodies in every way possible in front of a black backdrop. The videos are all disgustingly explicit, and Angela quickly closes the window. Yet, a fleeting memory lingers in her mind, and when the realization dawns on her, she freezes. The video trending under the livestream segment on the website features a man in a fox mask. His jawline, physique, and even the sound of his breathing are identical to those of her fiance, Daryl Carson.

I spend three years in prison taking the fall for Dwight Reed, the precious assistant of my hospital director wife, Gretchen Payne. On the day I am released, the first thing I see is yet another Medical Malpractice Liability Acknowledgment. "Sign it, Dustin. I want you to take the blame for this incident, too. Dwi has a bright future ahead of him. He can't have a stain on his record." Gretchen shoves a pen into my hand. "You've already served time. So, one more charge isn't going to make a difference." When I don't budge, she clicks her tongue impatiently. "Dustin, you're a convicted felon. You should be grateful for the chance to take the fall for Dwi! It's only five years! "Don't push your luck. Or is this about money? In that case, name your price!" I look at Dwight, who's sitting in the car with his arm around her waist, and let out a silent, bitter chuckle. My hand tightens around the late-stage leukemia diagnosis in my pocket. Gretchen, how am I supposed to serve five years when I only have seven days left to live?

Ashton had always been deeply devoted. However, on the day his first love was diagnosed with cancer, he handed me a pill that could erase memories. "Macie," he said gently, "Lydia doesn't have much time left. Give me three days—to give her the wedding she's always dreamed of." "I promise I won't break your heart.This pill will make you forget, just temporarily. Once it's over, you'll take the antidote, fall in love with me again, and we'll get married—properly, this time." His eyes left no room for doubt. So I took the pill and swallowed it. No hesitation. However, what Ashton did not realize... I created the memory-erasing drug. There is no antidote. In three days, I'll forget him—forever.

Damian and I have been together for five years. He's the heir to the Hartwell family, a family of old money, but he's incredibly devoted to me. He planned a perfect trip to Iceland to see the Northern Lights, intending to propose. He held me close and whispered, "They say couples who see the aurora together will be together forever. Nora, you and me -- never apart." As the brilliant lights danced across the sky, I truly believed our love would last an eternity. Then I saw him snap a photo and send it to Sophia with the message: "Wish you were here. Sending you some aurora magic." I froze. Sophie was Damian's childhood friend. The kind of woman who always draped herself all over him, and sent him provocative selfies in the middle of the night. The next second, Sophia called on video. "Damian! I'm so dizzy... When are you coming back to keep me company?" It was then I realized Damian had brought Sophia along on our proposal trip and was staying at the same hotel as us. I turned around and made a phone call without hesitation. "Mr. Parker, the three-year assignment to Germany you mentioned—I accept. Yes, the sooner the better." But why has this Billionaire been searching for me all over the world for three years after I left?

My wife's childhood friend, a gambling addict she had known since childhood, returned to Dryana. To help him pay off his debts, she stole and sold my medical patent. Before it happened, I confronted her. I tried to stop her. I even threatened to call the police. Amanda Carroll looked at me as if I had disappointed her beyond repair. "Enough, Cedric Lunsford. You're a grown man. Can you stop nitpicking over every little thing? "Don isn't like you. He's in trouble right now. You make that much money. What's wrong with giving him a little? I'm already your wife. Are you seriously going to tell me where my heart is allowed to be?" I gathered the evidence and headed to the police station. Halfway there, my brakes failed. The car slammed into the guardrail. Metal crumpled and glass shattered. I was pinned in the driver's seat, drenched in blood, forcing out my last breath as I called for help. Amanda's voice on the line was flat, almost bored. "Stop yelling. Don can't stand bloody scenes. Don't make him sick. Your insurance payout is enough for him to start over. Consider it the last duty you perform as a husband." At that moment, I understood. Even at the end, she chose his gambling debt. She chose murder and an insurance payout. The vehicle exploded. Nothing remained of me. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day her "childhood sweetheart" returned. This time, I did not stop her from going to the airport. I picked up my phone and called my senior overseas. "I'll sell you the patent. And the position you mentioned, I'm in. See you in three days."