Mistress Feel-Good Story Short Stories & Novels

News of a wedding in Nordica's top power family lit up the world. But at the rehearsal, I caught my fiancée, Ivette Bianchi, making out with her childhood sweetheart, Jerick Weiner. "Babe, we've been in love forever. Let me use your first-time blood as pigment for my art?" Ivette blushed, hesitated— Jerick didn't wait. He pinned her to the wall and kissed her. "My best piece needs that color," he whispered. "I want this painting to end our youth." I watched them twisted together, ice-cold. Dropped the ring. It clattered across the floor. "Go through with the ceremony," I said. "Or your family goes broke." She stiffened, shoved Jerick off, and spat, "Fine." Then she turned right back, grabbed his hand, and dragged him inside. "It's just a bachelorette party. I won't miss the rehearsal." The door slammed. I didn't react. I was done. I made the call. "Change the bride. And yeah—the Bianchis crossed the line first. I want them erased."

My girlfriend, Camille Chaney, gets pregnant right before the college entrance exam starts. In my previous life, I gave up on my college entrance exam and married Camille. We had a son together. Life might be nitty-gritty, but it was still rather fulfilling for me. When I was on my deathbed, Camille and her first love, Howard Salter, dropped by to visit me. "Thank you for raising our son for more than 20 years. Now, you may die in peace." Camille pulled the plug on my life support at that moment. She watched as I slowly suffocated to death. When I open my eyes again, I find out that I've returned to the timeframe when the college entrance exam is about to take place. This time, I slam the door shut in Camille's face when I hear her asking me to take responsibility for her pregnancy. "Go find someone else to play house with you. I'm not interested in becoming a father at all."

On the first day of her marriage, Lyra Leighton told her CEO husband, Wesley Cheswick, "I don't care if you fall for someone else later. But if she ever shows up in front of me, you'll never see me again." So when he did fall for a schoolteacher, he kept her tucked away. Gave her everything she wanted. Everything except permission to cross Lyra. But the side chick got bold on his affection and ignored the line. She showed up with a baby bump and shoved it in Lyra's face. "Wesley said it himself. He never loved you. He married you for your family's status. Know your place. Get an abortion and divorce him. Now. Otherwise, when Wesley dumps you, you won't get a dime." Lyra smiled and called her father. "Pull the investment from Cheswick Tech. I'm getting a divorce."

During my graduation trip, my friends and I go on a road trip to the plateau. That's when I get afflicted with altitude sickness. As dark spots begin to form in my vision, I realize that my anti-sickness medication, which can definitely save my life, has been swapped for ibuprofen instead. I'm about to start demanding answers from the group when my fiance, Zayden Lowry, stops me. "Sorry, Noelle. I've given your imported medication to Erica. You should take some ibuprofen and try to ride out your sickness for the time being." I clutch the box of ibuprofen, already finding it difficult to breathe. "So, you're just going to make me wait for my death after taking ibuprofen, huh?" Zayden frowns deeply at me. "How could you say that? Erica is frail, but you shouldn’t curse her like that! "This trip is meant for us to enjoy Mother Nature's beauty, not an opportunity for you to show off your expensive medication! "My mom is right. You really need to change that spoiled temperament of yours. If not, I won't be able to afford your expenses, seeing as you're the frail type who collapses over the slightest inconvenience." I no longer pay Zayden any attention. Using what's left of my strength, I send my dad a text. "Dad, send someone here to take me home. Also, you can terminate the collaboration between our company and Zayden's."

On our anniversary, my husband, James Marshall, purchased a painting as a gift for me with my secondary credit card. When I got home, I went to my study to retrieve an urgent court document. The door was slightly ajar. Inside, I could hear the flirtatious voice of my assistant, Julie Summers, mingled with my husband’s low murmurs. “James, your wife is just a money-printing machine. What does she know about art? She could never appreciate you like I do.” James sighed. Then, in an indulgent tone, he said, “Claire is too perfect—so perfect it’s suffocating. Not like you, full of life and warmth.” Just then, my mother-in-law, Susan Marshall, called James. He put her on speakerphone. “James, you need to move faster. While Claire still trusts you, turn all her client contacts into yours. That Julie girl seems promising. She’s much easier to control than that iron-fisted career wife of yours.” I gripped the cold doorknob, listening to the pair of shameless lovers in the study and the wretched woman on the phone, and immediately drafted a divorce agreement. At the same time, I forwarded asset-protection filings for all my holdings to my legal team. “I’ll see you all in court, parasites.”

As I secured the safety rope, I discovered that the metal clip had been replaced with a flimsy plastic ring. My girlfriend, already on the soft ladder, dismissed my concern casually. "Ryan has got a ton of luggage. One clip isn't enough to keep it secure, so I gave him yours. Just wait for the next trip." In desperation, I pointed to the floodwaters surging past my chest. "But I can't swim!" "Cut the drama, okay?" she huffed. "You're a swimming champ. What's the big deal about treading water for a bit? Ryan is related to my boss, and if anything happens to him, my promotion is down the drain. Can't you be reasonable?" "Is his luggage more important than my life?" I shot back, lunging for the ladder. But she kicked me away. "I've checked. The water won't rise too fast. At worst, it'll reach your neck. You'll survive." Refusing to argue further, I watched the floodwaters rage higher and quickly pressed a special emergency beacon on my wrist.

Mom is diagnosed with a benign fibroid during her check-up, but somehow, she ends up getting her entire uterus removed, leading to her getting an infection and dying from it. With the surgical records in hand, I decide to sue the doctor for malpractice. But my wife, Anastasia Ziegler, who's also the director of the hospital, personally steps in to vouch for him. Enraged, I question her why. However, Anastasia just shoves me away coldly. "Your mom was already that old. What use did she have for her uterus? Louis' future is more important! Anyway, I'll waive the hospital bills. You'd better take down the court case, though. Don't embarrass me any further in the hospital." As I gaze at Mom's cold corpse, I can't help but chuckle. It turns out that Anastasia has no idea that her beloved side piece has killed off her actual mom, who had stayed widowed for many years.

I had been engaged to Atlas Payne, a powerful CEO, for five years. This was the 21st time he had canceled our wedding ceremony. The first time, his secretary, Jasmine Scott, sprained her ankle. He left me by the roadside and rushed to the hospital. The second time, Jasmine cried and made a scene on the eve of our wedding, so he left me alone on the red carpet. The Payne family was powerful, while I was merely the daughter of a housekeeper. Therefore, everyone advised me to just deal with his mood swings. Every time Atlas left me behind, he would solemnly apologize and promise me that the next wedding attempt would definitely go smoothly. I kept believing him. Even though I was not the family's legitimate mistress, I still handled all the family affairs for him. I waited and waited, but the wedding ceremony never came. All I received was news that Jasmine was pregnant. This time, I had no reason to convince myself to stay. "I will never let you leave my side. If you ever disappear, I’ll make sure to use my family's influence to find you." The sweet words he once said to me were now a cage that trapped me. On Christmas Day, I prepared to leave him for good. I started a fire at home. Even the most powerful family would not be able to find someone who was supposedly dead. Years later, I unexpectedly came across Atlas kneeling at my ‘grave’. He was always so stern, but now, he was crying and begging me to come home and see him again.

At the annual company raffle, I had barely stepped onto the stage when my supervisor, Lily Smith, pressed a crumpled slip of paper into my palm. "A special reward for our top salesperson," she chirped. "Go ahead, open it. Let everyone see." Under the eager gaze of the crowd, I unfolded the note. Written in messy handwriting were the words: Clean the company toilets for three days. The room erupted in laughter. Lily folded her arms, cocked her head, and smirked at me. "Nice, right?" she said. "Everyone knows those sales of yours came from sleeping with old men. Dirty money. To keep things fair, the others get a break, and you pick up a little extra work. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" The laughter surged again, nearly lifting the roof. From the side of the room, my boyfriend, Seth Hoffman, the company's CEO, watched everything unfold. As usual, he said nothing in my defense. They all thought I would fall apart, cry, or make a scene. Instead, I simply gave a calm nod. The very next day, the company was hit with over three hundred property cancellations. Its cash flow collapsed overnight. That was when Lily and Seth rushed to me, demanding I go plead with the buyers. I smiled and said, "No thanks. I wouldn't want to help the company recover and end up with strong numbers again. That might make everyone even more uncomfortable."

After I get off work from the hospital, I decide to exercise by taking my mountain bike out on a ride. However, that's when I find out that the seat of my mountain bike has been lowered. There's even a blue sticky note with a scribbled heart pasted on the bike handle. I call my wife, Sabrina Yellin. "Who took my bike on a ride?" After a few seconds of silence, Sabrina replies nonchalantly, "Kelly's boyfriend wanted to learn how to ride a mountain bike yesterday, so he practiced a few laps with your bike. What's wrong, though? Is the bike damaged in any way?" Kelly's boyfriend? But he had boasted about going on an overseas vacation for one whole month last week on his social media account. My gut feeling tells me that something's fishy about this whole thing. So, I just curl my lips into a smirk. "Nah. He can keep using it." After that, I push the mountain bike back to its original parking slot. Then, I find myself two needles so that I can insert them into the seat. Three days later, when I'm working the night shift at the hospital, a nurse rushes in hurriedly. "Dr. Hart, there's a male patient in the ER right now. He claims that his crotch was stabbed by needles when he was riding his bike earlier."

When I send the family car to the body shop for maintenance, an employee discovers a cat pregnancy guidebook wedged in the slot between the front passenger seat and the door. The cat's name is Rose. The signature shown on the furparent's slot belongs to my husband. "Christian Johannson, furdad of Rose." I'm stunned, to say the least. We don't keep cats at home. Coincidentally, Christian calls me on the phone. I ask him, "There's a guidebook in the car. When did you keep a cat?" He chuckles lightly in response. "There was a pregnant stray lingering around the company. I found it pitiful, so I brought it to the vet. It had already given birth last month. Now, it and its babies are the apple of the whole company's eye." With a smile, I praise Christian for being a kind-hearted soul. After ending the phone call, however, I begin reading the guidebook meticulously. Rose is apparently a short-haired cat. She's now two years old. As for the cats living in Christian's company, I've seen them in his colleague's social media posts before. All of them are tabby cats. After closing the guidebook, I take down the vet clinic's name. Then, I drive over to that location.

I won eight million overnight. The first thing I did was rush to the hospital to pay for my son's surgery and treatment. That was when my phone rang. Ian, a coworker from the company, called, "Something urgent came up! You need to get back here right this instant!" My wife, Mara, took the bank card from my hand, and said with an gentle and understanding voice, "You can give me the PIN. I'll take care of our son's hospital bills. Go. Work is important. Don't worry about us." In my previous life, I didn't hesitate one bit. I trusted her completely and hurried back to the office. My son never made it into surgery. Instead, the police came for me. It turned out that Mara and Ian had conspired together to frame me, pinning the crime of embezzling company funds on me. The very money Ian had stolen. With no money for treatment, my son died in the hospital. My parents, shattered by grief, suffered fatal heart attacks one after the other. And I, rotting in prison, ended my life in despair. After my death, my soul drifted to the holiday villas of Moldeves, where Mara was on vacation. I heard her laughing as she spoke to Ian, "That idiot won a fortune and wasted it on that useless sick kid. He dragged me into a miserable life." Laughing even harder, she added, "Now, their whole family is dead, and we get to enjoy wealth for the rest of our lives. Consider it compensation from that idiot! Haha!" Then, I opened my eyes. I was back in the hospital corridor, at the exact moment my wife reached out and took the bank card from me. This time, I still told her the PIN.

My cousin, Erin Johnson, is passionate about testing my boyfriends. Although I keep turning her offer down, she keeps insisting on doing so for me. Once she successfully seduces a boyfriend of mine, she'll dump him instantly. Then, she'll announce in our family's group chat that said boyfriend isn't a good match for me. When Erin does the same thing once again, she doesn't realize that she's stepping into a trap I've specifically set up for her. There's no way she won't step into it.

I've spent five long and devoted years at the company. At first, I think I'm getting a promotion soon. What I don't expect is that my superior, Jacob Hale, decides to burn bridges with me by forcing me to voluntarily quit the job. He also promotes Megan Osborn, a pretentious woman who spends her time kissing up to the right people. That's when I also find out that the employee I've been training from the start, Cindy Sutton, and Megan are actually best friends of many years. They keep hunting for my faults just so they can send them to Jacob behind my back. To make things worse, my boyfriend of seven years, Felix Wilkins, is even being flirtatious and intimate with Megan in public! Fine! I don't mind changing my identity and rejoining this game!

After my husband, Joseph Adams, hired thugs to smash my taco stand again, I pushed the destroyed remains to his company’s anniversary banquet. Joseph had his arm around his little secretary, Monica Martin, when he announced that she would soon be joining the company’s management team. I pressed the horn and called out, “Tacos for sale to support my husband’s mistress—three thirty a piece!” Amid the stunned and bewildered stares of the crowd, Joseph’s brows twisted into a deep frown.

When war broke out in Irestan, my fiancé, Everett Jones, caused a scene at the airport and refused to let the evacuation flight take off. He was determined to wait for his precious first love, Annie Scott, who had taken advantage of the chaos to loot a cosmetics counter for luxury goods. By then, the insurgent forces were already closing in. The shriek of explosions grew louder, drawing nearer by the second. With an entire plane full of people in mortal danger, I had no choice. I knocked Everett unconscious and dragged him aboard. After we returned home, far from the battlefield, we lived a period of quiet, comfortable happiness. I truly believed he had finally put that woman behind him. I was wrong. On our wedding day, he tied me up, drove me away, and deliberately crashed the car, killing me. As my life slipped away, I heard his twisted laughter. "Daniela, you're the one who killed my Annie. Because of you, she was killed by an insurgent missile. "She was just a young girl who liked to look pretty. What was so wrong with that? "This is what you owe her. I'm going to make you suffer far more than she ever did." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the boarding gate, at the exact moment he blocked the plane. This time, I chose to grant his wish and let him stay behind with his beloved first love, together, forever.

The day two students got into a dispute, I ran into Morris Freeman, my ex from ten years ago. The boy who had been fighting wiped his tears and called him "Dad". Morris froze when he saw me, then finally remembered what was going on and apologized. "Ms. Langstaff, I'm sorry for causing you trouble." I handled the compensation by the book and wrapped everything up. When it was over, he lagged behind, clearly wanting to say something. "Back then, I remember you didn't want to be a teacher." I gave a faint smile and walked him to the office door. "People change. So do their ideas." Just like my feelings for him. That chapter had been closed a long time ago.

Before the day of my husband's succession as the Don, my stepsister personally tattooed the "Inverted Angel's Eye"—the mark of a traitor—onto my back. My husband didn't just turn a blind eye; when the family vendetta broke out, he withdrew all the elite guards to protect my "pregnant" stepsister, leaving me alone in a defenseless city to face the slaughter.  "Elena, you are strong enough to protect yourself. But Sophia is fragile, and she is carrying my firstborn. She needs the protection more than you." Facing a siege of heavy firepower, I survived by the skin of my teeth. He thought I would swallow the insult for the sake of the family's reputation. He didn't expect that I would kick open the doors of his coronation ceremony wearing mourning weeds, flanked by the FBI and the Commission, and personally strip him of his title. "Goodbye, Lorenzo. This time, I choose to be the Don."

My father suffered a heart attack and collapsed. Emergency treatment required the installation of a cardiac stent. I asked my husband to approve an expense of 10 thousand dollars for the surgery. Cameron Lister, the CEO, refused coldly, "The company and family accounts have been frozen recently because of a major project. Your father has medical insurance, so just use a cost-effective domestic stent for now." He was the sole administrator of all the bank cards in my family. His reply made me sorrowfully realize something. Even though I was a genius architectural designer with an annual income of 600 thousand dollars, I was still not worthy of choosing a better life-saving device for my own father. It was a Twitter post forwarded by a colleague, freshly and gleefully posted by the company intern Wendy. [Cameron is so nice. I just said I liked painting, and he gave me a million dollars to organize an art exhibition. I love him so much!] I looked at my father lying on an extra bed in the hospital corridor, groaning in pain, and then looked at the photo of them sweetly embracing each other. I finally understood that Cameron had perhaps never truly loved me. He had only treated me as a stepping stone for his soaring career, and as a tool for him to exploit without limits. 'If this is what you want, Cameron, then don't blame me for being ruthless,' I said inwardly.

The day before the race, I burned my car and announced my withdrawal. Overnight, my fanbase collapsed. Supporters unfollowed in droves, and casual fans turned on me just as viciously. Jasper, the man who had always treated me as his only real rival, put on a show of false concern. “Without him, the race feels too lonely. No matter what, I still hope he’ll return to the track and face me properly.” I sneered. In my previous life, the racecar I had painstakingly modified ended up identical to his. No matter how many videos I released of full recordings of every step I personally took, all Jasper had to do was tearfully tell his fans, “Then let Finn use it. He needs it more than I do. I’ll win on my own strength.” And just like that, I became the shameless thief in everyone’s eyes. Later, the moment I started my car, the components inside exploded, and I was left in a vegetative state. His fans called it karma. Even on the day my fiancée pulled out my oxygen tube and watched me die, I still couldn’t understand. Why had everything that belonged to me—my career, my girlfriend—all become Jasper’s? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the race schedule was first announced.