Mistress Marriage Short Stories & Novels

It was the third year of my marriage to Antonio Rizzo, Don of the Rizzo mafia family. He kept a younger woman on the side and had everyone keep it from me. They all said I was his first love, his weakness, the treasure he brought back from Cocily. However, when he got drunk, he laughed and told the family members, "I love Elena, but she's a bit boring in bed. She's just not wild enough. "You all know how it is. Men like a little excitement, like Caterina. She's young, beautiful, and knows how to have fun." The boy who had sworn in church at 17 that he would love me forever now held a young, beautiful blonde in his arms as he coaxed her, "As long as Elena doesn't find out, you can do whatever you want." The day I left, everything seemed normal. No one noticed anything unusual. The maid, Maria Russo, even smiled and asked me, "Signora, are you going shopping?" I smiled lightly and nodded. "No need to prepare dinner tonight." Antonio did not know that the 'boring' Elena he spoke of was the daughter of the Santoro mafia family. The women of the Santoro family never forgave betrayal.

"Are you sure you want this?" The witch slid the vial across the table. "Once I cast the unbinding spell, your Fated Mate connection will dissolve over ten days. On the tenth day, it's permanent. No reversals." I didn't hesitate. "Your name?" She picked up her pen. "Mara Voss." Her hand froze. Everyone in New York's vampire community knew that name. Conrad Levin — the Prince of the New York Dominion, an eight-hundred-year-old monster who had never shown a flicker of attachment to anything — had three years ago announced to the entire supernatural world that he'd found his Fated Mate. A human girl carrying the rarest blood type in existence. Golden blood. Her name was Mara Voss. I held out my wrist. The witch began her work. I opened my phone and booked a one-way ticket to Prague. Departing in exactly ten days. This time, Conrad would never find me.

The doctor said my husband Ethan had dual personality. His primary personality was gentle and devoted. His alter — "Axel" — was reckless and wild. In five years of marriage, every time Axel surfaced, he'd fall for a different woman. Each time, I'd have to pull out our marriage certificate, walk him through our love story from the beginning, just to bring Ethan back. This time, Axel had set his sights on the new dance instructor. I dropped what I was doing at work, ready to go collect him from the psychiatrist's office — same as always. But outside the treatment room, I heard him on the phone with one of his buddies, laughing: "What can I say — I'm a hell of an actor. Five years and she still hasn't caught on." "Besides, why settle for the wife at home when there's so much more fun out there?" The panic I'd been feeling went very, very still. I pulled up my lawyer's number and texted him: Get the divorce papers ready.

The tenth time one of my paintings appeared under my sister Rose's name, I handed Adrian the divorce papers. He raised an eyebrow and tossed the agreement aside without a second glance. "Don't be dramatic. Your hand is ruined -- where would you even go without me?" I said nothing. He smiled, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "You should be grateful. Rose was the one I was supposed to marry. A few paintings is a small price to pay. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you." He blew a ring of cigarette smoke directly into my face. I choked, and the sting brought tears to my eyes. Through the blur, I was transported back to the moment my tendons were severed for his sake -- a pain that had drilled straight to the bone. He thought I had no choice but to take it. What he didn't know was that I'd already accepted an offer from the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Soon, I would be free of him for good.

I'd been assigned overseas for three months, but I wrapped up my work ahead of schedule and flew home early to spend New Year's Eve with my wife. While waiting for a ride, I scrolled through TikTok and came across a video captioned: [Marrying the one you love feels like winning a war.] Then the scene shifted, and my world tilted. The bride slung over the groom's shoulder… was my wife. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But then I spotted familiar faces—her relatives, unmistakable in the crowd. I didn't hesitate. I checked the hotel location tagged in the video and shoved my phone toward the taxi driver. "Change the route. Take me here," I said. "I'm going to catch them in the act."

On Couples' Day, I received a last-minute urgent request from a client to help feed her dog at her residence. The client's home is located in the same residential area as Zachary Yandon's and my marital home. Even the passcode to her home is very similar to ours, with the last four digits being Zachary's birthday. When I open the door, it feels as though I've walked into my own home. The furnishings in my client's home are surprisingly the same as the furnishings in my own home. Even the Itorian men's loafers placed at the doorway are the exact same pair as I bought for Zachary last month. I stand at the doorway hesitantly without entering the home. It's then that a golden retriever dashes out of one of the rooms and runs into my arms. The force is so strong that I stumble backward, hitting my back on the door. I know I'm not imagining things at all. It turns out the client's dog is Bingo, my furbaby who went missing three years ago!

I was born destined to be fertile. The kind of woman who brings heirs into the world as if it were destiny. My womb had never failed me. The Schuyler family had practically begged me to marry into their family. The reason was simple. For three generations, the Schuyler family had only produced a single heir each time. Their bloodline was hanging by a thread. The patriarch of the family, Albert Schuyler, went everywhere looking for solutions. Doctors, fortune tellers, shamans, anyone who could give him hope. In the end, every prediction pointed to me. After I married Jack Schuyler, my first pregnancy was twins. The entire Schuyler family exploded with joy. Albert donated to every church and fortune teller alike, kneeling in gratitude. Before the babies were even weaned, the Schuyler family business began to thrive. Everyone said that it was the blessing of having noble heirs. Wedding gifts, properties, and company shares. The Schuyler family spared nothing. They treated me like a queen, terrified that I might suffer even the slightest. Until the day I gave birth to my third child. Jack Schuyler's true love, Bianca Chance, barged into the delivery room, screaming at me, "You shameless tramp! You're nothing but a breeding sow! One baby after the other! Are you trying to trap Jack with your womb? You disgusting woman! Jack had said that everything you give birth to will just be burdens sooner or later!" I pressed a hand on my wound and looked at her. Burden? Fine. I would take these so-called burdens with me. As for the Schuyler family's precious bloodline, they had to figure out how to continue it on their own.

Half a year into my death, my wife, Serena Beckett, wants me to donate my kidney to William Clark, her heavily ill first love. Serena smashes my tombstone like a madwoman in the graveyard. Then, she kicks the tokens aside. "He's dead? What sort of sick joke is this? Jason Shaw is a coward! He definitely doesn't have the guts to die! "I think he just doesn't want to save William's life! To think that he actually roped you guys into putting up this act just to pretend that he's actually dead!" Serena is furious, to say the least. The graveyard's staff members are so frightened that they dare not speak up at all. A newly-recruited staff member finally muster the courage to say something. "Ma'am, Mr. Shaw really is dead. Apparently, he died in the donation surgery that had taken place half a year ago… He—" "Shut up!" Serena slaps him while cutting him off. "You really think I'll believe that bullshit? Tell him that if he doesn't show his face in three days, his little sister can forget about getting off the surgical table alive! I mean what I said!" With a dark expression, Serena turns on her heel and leaves angrily afterward. But the staff member looks toward another tombstone not far away. Then, he lets out a heavy sigh. "It's a shame that his sister has already died due to her illness taking a turn for the worse."

When I was three months pregnant, my Don husband’s so-called step sister, Ruby, showed up at my door. Her swollen belly was impossible to miss, “Donna, since my due date is so close, I thought you should know… the Don’s heir is in my belly.” She laid everything in front of me—intimate photos of her and Caleb, records of the weekly money transfers he sent her, even the deed to a mansion. The earliest dates traced back to the time I lost our first baby, when the doctors told me it would be difficult for me to conceive again. All these years, I had been enduring IVF treatments, desperately trying to carry our child once more—while he was fooling around with his so-called step sister. Well, if Caleb wanted another woman so badly, he could have her. I had no intention of staying anyway. I was already planning my leave.

On the day my daughter is discharged from the hospital after recovering from the flu, I run into my ex-husband, Zachary Levine, whom I have been divorced from for seven years. He is there to pick up his wife, who has just given birth. He looks a little surprised as his gaze moves up and down to take in my clothes, which is still stained from my child's vomit. I had no time to change out of it earlier. "Long time no see. How have you been lately?" he asks. I smile and say I am doing fine. As we are about to part, he grabs my arm. "Alyssa, our son misses you a lot. If you are having any difficulties, don't push yourself. The passcode for the house in the north of the city is still your birthday. You can go there anytime." I politely decline, and he lets out a sigh. "After all these years, you are still as stubborn as you were back then. Don't hate me." I smile but say nothing. There needs to be love for there to be hate. But now, he is just a stranger to me.

My CEO husband developed a strange illness. His heart chose me, but his body chose his intern. He would vanish for ten days every month to see his intern for "treatment." “Zoe, the doctor says it’s a physiological dependency. My body chose Molly, but you’re the one I truly love, now and always!” To make me believe him, he swore vicious oaths and even went so far as to hurt himself to prove his love. My eyes burned red, but in the end, I softened. It wasn't until I was late in my pregnancy, when a falling billboard struck me and I miscarried. I called my husband again and again, but he never picked up. Then, moments later, I saw the intern’s post online. The caption wrote: [Unlocked a new identity: Mom. From now on, we’re a happy family of three!] In the photo, my husband looked at her with gentle affection. His hand rested on her belly and her prenatal report clutched in his other hand. That was when I realized the one his heart and body had chosen all along was her. At that moment, I knew our marriage was over.

Thanks to an accident, I'm somehow able to get on a phone call with the past version of me from seven years ago. Upon hearing that I will be getting engaged to Edward Herring soon, Younger Me is so excited that she keeps rolling around in bed. She also claims that she will be the happiest woman in the world seven years later. Am I happy, though? I can only smile bitterly without saying anything. Then, I silently show Younger Me the old scars of the suffering and pain I've gone through in the past. The gentle Edward is no longer here. Now, the Edward I'm with is the type who allows others to call me a manipulative bitch repeatedly and demands that I grovel to his first love, Madison Scott, and her family in a form of apology before our engagement. "So, do you still want a future like this?" The sparkle in Younger Me's eyes fades away instantly. After that, my past has been rewritten. Let's never see each other from the start, Edward Herring.

When I went for my prenatal checkup, I filled in my mafia husband Enrico Salvatore's information in the spouse column. However, the doctor told me, "The system shows no record of you ever being married. You're unmarried." I froze, unable to believe it. "How is that possible? We got married five years ago. Please check again." The doctor pulled up the system records again, and only one line appeared on the screen: [Marriage Registration: None.] At first, I thought the hospital had made a mistake. Then, I overheard Enrico talking to one of his men. "Isabella's the only one in my heart. I'll give her everything else she wants. But Luisa gave me a daughter. For the sake of the family's bloodline, I have to register our marriage and give her that status. Isabella can never find out about the registration." At that moment, I finally understood. The small wedding five years ago was nothing but a cover. We never registered. There was no legal marriage. Even the child I was carrying had no legal standing. It was all an elaborate lie he had crafted. Since none of this ever truly belonged to me, I would just leave.

I was in San Aria Bay with my mom, enjoying a quiet, sunlit getaway, when my phone suddenly lit up with a string of messages from my husband's ever-arrogant secretary. She sent a photo. The woman in it had been stripped naked, her body covered in blood, the sight almost unbearable. A voice message followed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Jeannie, do people like you always take advantage of others like this? "Mr. Smith just bought this house, and you already had your mother move in for free? As his chief secretary, it's my responsibility to remove anyone living off him."

On my girlfriend's birthday, I was in the middle of preparing a surprise for her when the property management office of our marital home called first. "Sir, we've received a complaint from another resident," the staff member said. "They claim there's been… quite a bit of noise coming from your unit at night. From you and your wife." I frowned. The only person I had given a key to that apartment was my girlfriend. I called her immediately. She answered with a soft, teasing tone, "They must have made a mistake. I'm at my best friend's place." "Alright," I said evenly. "Enjoy yourself." After hanging up, I opened the smart home system without hesitation and remotely locked every door and window from the outside. Then I dialed the police. "Hello, I'd like to report an unlawful entry."

On the day of our wedding, Henry Zander, my fiance, gets his legs broken in a car crash in his attempt of playing the knight in shining armor who intends to rescue the damsel in distress. So, I terminate our wedding on the spot. Both families surround me, trying to convince me to prioritize the bigger picture. My future mother-in-law cries her heart out as she takes my hand. "Winona, Henry got crippled because of his acts of heroism! He's the real hero here! If you head over to the hospital and take good care of him from now on, we'll still be a family!" My mom hugs me as well, her voice lowered. "You're still pregnant with the Zanders' heir, Winona. Do you have the heart to deliver your baby to this world without a father in their life? Hurry up and apologize to the Zanders so that this incident can be water under the bridge!" My dad acts more impulsively by slapping me on the spot and calling me an insensitive bastard who humiliates the family. Regardless, I walk over to the emcee calmly and pick up the microphone. "I'll give the 880-thousand-dollar wedding gifts meant for Henry and me to the driver involved in this car accident."

My husband was working over the holidays, again. He’d been sent out of town to oversee one of the Family’s dock operations and a string of gambling houses.. I decided to buy a ticket and surprise him. Only business class was left. Staring at the five-figure price, I gritted my teeth and spent a year’s worth of savings. Then I couldn’t even figure out how to pull down the damn tray table. The socialite seated next to me let out a cold laugh. “Never flown business class before?” I forced an awkward smile. “My apologies. You must be… important. You have that aura.” “Oh, me? No. The man who keeps me is important. He’d charter a private jet if I asked. Business class is practically slumming it.” I blinked. “A… keeper? That’s rare.” “Not really. I’m his secretary. I mess up a lot. Cost him a fortune. He yells at me until I cry. And then, well… crying leads to other things.” She winked. “You know how it is.” “Funny,” I said, my voice tight. “My husband has an assistant who helps him manage accounts for the docks. She’s always messing things up too.” “You’re married?” She looked me over, head to toe. “My man has a wife about your age. Says he’s sick of her. That touching her is boring. Says I’m more exciting just brushing my hair out of my face.” She leaned closer. “I told him I wanted to see him for New Year’s. So he told the wife he had to work.” The diamond on her finger caught the light. It was identical to the wedding band I’d lost. My body went cold. No. Matteo was just a low-level enforcer. A foot soldier the Family occasionally trusted with small operations—dock shipments, backroom gambling, nothing more. When did he become a Don?

My grandmother didn't have much time left. Before she passed away, she entrusted me to my boyfriend, Hunter Jones. As we held hands with our fingers interlaced, he promised to register our marriage in front of my grandmother's sickbed. However, the day after we registered our marriage, Sarah Moore, Hunter's female colleague, posted a picture of a marriage certificate with her and Hunter's names on it. There was a caption, stating, 'I know you have no choice but to agree to marry her. But as long as I'm the person you love most, I'm satisfied with only one month.' I went to find Hunter, intending to question him about what was going on. Instead, I overheard him chatting with his friend. "I'm indebted to Audrey's grandmother. I promised her that I would take care of Audrey for the rest of my life, so I have to take responsibility for her. As for Sarah, I can die without regrets if I can be her husband for a month in this life." His friend laughed and said, "Poor Audrey White. Aren't you afraid she'll get angry and run away when she finds out that the marriage certificate you got her was fake?" Hunter fell silent for a moment. "She will never find out. I'll just tell her that there was an error in the registration system and that we need to re-register. Audrey trusts me so much. She won't suspect anything," he added. However, his plans shattered when he tried to contact me to re-register our marriage. That was because he received my wedding gift for him, along with a wish that he and Sarah would have a long and happy life instead.

I'd made plans to spend New Year's Eve with my fiancee, Sophie Bennett. I'd even rushed home with a custom cake I picked up just for us. However, my smile slipped the second I walked in. A photo of Sophie and me that was hanging on the wall was being used as a dartboard. Her guy best friend, Sean Hewitt, had one arm wrapped around her waist while casually throwing darts at it. "Oh, hey, you're back?" he said with a grin. "Perfect timing. We're playing Truth or Dare." The words had barely left his mouth when another dart hit the photo—right in my face. My chest tightened as I parted my lips to call him out. Yet, Sean only laughed. "Wow, hit you again? Guess even fate thinks you two aren't meant to be." Then, he added, all fake innocence, "Don't get the wrong idea, alright? It's just a game. Sophie and I are basically bros. You're not seriously bothered by this, are you?" I stood there, completely still. As I stared at that photo completely riddled with holes, I couldn't help but think it looked a lot like my heart at that moment. Sophie gave him a half-hearted scolding. "Alright, cut it out." But Sean just put on a wounded look and kept his arm around her waist. Sophie only smiled helplessly before turning to me with clear impatience. "Sean's just messing around. Don't stand there with that look on your face and kill the mood. It's just a photo. We can print another one tomorrow. Stop being so petty."

Gabriel Black and I had grown up together as childhood sweethearts, and when we reached adulthood, our families arranged our engagement. From the day the engagement was announced, I started counting down the days. However, Gabriel thought the whole thing was unfair. “Other people get to fall in love a few times in their lives. Why should I be stuck with just you my whole life? You should date a few people, too. Don’t shortchange yourself.” And he meant it. In the year after our engagement, Gabriel went through seven girlfriends. Every time he changed partners, I would simply smile and say it didn’t matter. After all, I thought he would always come back to me. That was until the eighth girlfriend came along. He brought her to the Black family’s annual banquet. She clung to his arm and called him Gabe. I quietly set down my utensils. Right there in front of both families, I took out the engagement agreement and slid it to the center of the table. “Gabriel,” I said calmly, “you were right. Staying loyal to just one person really is a loss.” Later, I stood before him again, this time with my hand linked with the only son of the Graham family. Gabriel smashed his glass on the spot. For the first time, his eyes turned red. “Erin, what do you mean by this?” I smiled and said, “Didn’t you tell me to try dating, too? Well, I did, and it suits me just fine.”