Mistress Marriage Short Stories & Novels

In a bid to assess rare resources, our expedition team ventures into an uninhabited desert, only to be suddenly faced with a heat wave that reaches 158 degrees Fahrenheit. Becoming so dehydrated that I'm close to fainting, I hurriedly open my backpack to dig out the electrolyte drink I prepared beforehand. The bottle is already about to touch my lips when I realize it's half filled with urine. I turn my head, just in time to see my husband's childhood sweetheart guzzling the electrolyte drink. Just as I'm about to lose my temper, my husband yanks on my sleeve. "Don't be mad. I was the one who gave your electrolyte drink to Maddy because she's nearly dehydrated. In the meantime, you'd better just make do and drink this, okay?" By then, black spots are dancing in my vision. Squeezing the bottle of urine, I hiss through gritted teeth, "I'm already dehydrated, but instead of letting me rehydrate quickly, you're telling me to drink this. Are you trying to kill me?" Immediately, a displeased look crosses his face. "Stop talking nonsense. Maddy isn't like you and doesn't train her body every day. She absolutely can't handle such high temperatures. Isn't it only right that she gets the electrolyte drink? "Besides, urine can rehydrate you, too. Why are you still making a fuss at this point?" Realizing that he cannot be reasoned with, I decide to send out a distress signal and seek help before I fully lose consciousness. "Severely dehydrated and near death. Expedition operations suspended. Immediate rescue required. Also reporting the presence of a robber within the team—please contact authorities as soon as possible."

At my son's kindergarten awards ceremony, the teacher invited the parents onstage to share their parenting experiences. I was about to stand when Julian stopped me and motioned for my best friend, Wendy Morgan, to go up instead. "Nathan is actually Wendy's and my son," Julian Cole said so calmly that he might as well have been discussing something that had nothing to do with me. "Wendy has known for five years that Nathan is her son, but she hasn't been able to acknowledge him as her own. I don't want her to keep suffering in silence," he added. I was almost certain I'd misheard him, but the question slipped out before I could stop it. "Then what about my son?" "Your son died the moment he was born. Wendy couldn't bear to see you suffer the pain of losing your child, so she gave you hers," he answered just as casually, as though he were talking about someone else's family. When he saw the color drain from my face, he let out a cold scoff. "You never even saw him. Why are you taking this so hard? Survival of the fittest. Isn't it perfectly normal for an unhealthy embryo to be eliminated?" A deafening roar filled my head. Julian tightened his grip on my hand. "Don't worry. Nothing is going to change. I won't divorce you. Nathan just has another mother now. That's all." I pulled my hand stiffly from his grasp and stared at him in disbelief. "Where are my son's ashes?" Julian froze for a moment. "Ashes? I gave his body to the hospital for disposal. What ashes? He was probably thrown into some trash can somewhere." I shot to my feet, my voice trembling beyond my control. "Julian, you're an animal!"

When Rocco Morelli, a mafia don, finds me, it's when I'm working as a stripper at an illegal bar, pleasing the men around me with sultry smiles and provocative dances. He throws his jacket over me and grabs me by the jaw, saying, "Come home with me." From that day onward, I fell in love with Rocco. After doting on me for five years, he proposes to me. Yet, in the month leading up to the wedding, he suddenly disappears. I launch a frenzied search for him before eventually seeing him in a jewelry boutique. With his arm wrapped around the dolled-up woman beside him, he picks out a 20-carat wedding ring. That woman is Emilia Leone, who is my father's illegitimate daughter. He stares at her, his eyes filled with affection. "I'll prepare the grandest wedding ceremony for you." "What about Cassandra?" Emilia asks with a coy smile. "You proposed to her, too." Snorting, Rocco replies scornfully, "Can't you tell? That's just my way of toying with her. Her older brother nearly took your life. Now that he's gone missing, it's only right for her to suffer the consequences in his place. "On our wedding day, I'll abandon her at the altar and marry you instead. She'll become the laughingstock in all of Langshore. Only you, the daughter of the Leone family, the largest mafia family, are worthy of me." The wedding day arrives, and I skip out on the ceremony as well. At Rocco and Emilia's wedding ceremony, I broadcast 99 photos of Emilia fooling around with other men. He panics and tearfully begs for me to return to him, but I take the gun my brother hands me and point it at his head, saying, "Actually, I'm the real daughter of the Leone family."

Three years of marriage, and I'd become known in our social circle as the ultimate doormat. My husband staying out all night, his silent treatment, bringing his first love home to flaunt in my face—through it all, I'd smile and make him hangover soup, keeping the house spotless. Everyone thought I loved him to the point of madness. Even he believed it. Until the day of the divorce, when he begged me with tears in his eyes not to leave—and then watched "me" collapse rigid to the floor after a power outage, revealing a charging port on the back of my neck. He lost his mind. Meanwhile, the real me was lying on a beach in the Maldives, running my fingers through the hair of a gorgeous twenty-something with a six-pack, cheerfully pressing the "factory reset" button.

On the day of the wedding, Tiffany Blake publicly slipped a wedding ring onto her secretary's finger. "I'm pregnant. The baby is Chad's. Once the child is old enough, I'll marry you." Guests whispered among themselves, convinced that I—the one who had chased after her for a year—would just swallow my pride and take it. But that very night, I accepted the marriage arranged by my family and vanished from her world without a trace. A year later, I attended a charity gala with my wife, Nicole Cooper. She had a last-minute conflict and sent someone from her regional office to pick me up. I never expected it to be Tiffany, whom I hadn't seen in a year. "You're back just in time. My maternity leave is almost up. From now on, you'll be the one taking care of the child."

At my best friend Naomi Dodson's Sip and See, my husband, Joe Walsh, gifts her a luxury villa. I think it's a mix-up, but he stays deadly calm. "Naomi's baby is mine. The villa is her reward." The world goes cold around me. Desperate, I push for answers. "When did this start?" He knit his brows, annoyed. "Does it matter? You're still Mrs. Walsh. You get the money, the freedom, and a kid without the birth pains. What's not to like?" What he doesn't know is that he has severe azoospermia. I am never the infertile one. He is.

When the hurricane shattered the floor-to-ceiling windows, our five-year-old daughter and the nanny's dog were both swept toward the broken edge, only moments away from plunging to their deaths. There was only one rescue cushion left. The nanny, Wade Jenkins, grabbed my wife Sophie Lynch's hand first, tears streaming down his face. "Sophie, Dobie is my emotional support dog. Without him... I won't survive." Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, I dropped to my knees. "Sophie, please... Save Anna first! She has asthma. She won't last much longer..." For a brief moment, Sophie stood frozen. Then, with chilling indifference, she pried my fingers from her arm. "We can always have another child, but Wade can't live without Dobie. I'm saving the dog first." What she did not know was that there would never be another child. The moment she chose the nanny's dog over our daughter, I chose to walk away from our marriage forever.

My husband and I have been legally married for five years. This is the tenth time he's canceled our wedding ceremony. This time? His student, Laura, is competing in her first international violin competition—and he 'needs' to be there. I still remember the last cancellation: an awards ceremony he had to attend with her. The time before that? She fell ill, and he stayed at her hospital bedside. The other times? I've lost count of the excuses, but it doesn't matter. The reason is always Laura. Her needs always outweighed my wedding. My marriage. My life. Fine. If he wanted to stand by Laura so badly, he could stay there forever. This hollow, five-year farce of a marriage? It's over.

Chester Ford brings home a female university student for the 10th time during our 10th wedding anniversary banquet. He walks into the banquet hall with the young lady in his arms. "Don't you see that your outfit is clashing with hers, Yuna Sutherland? Take off your dress. Right here and now." He slowly loosens his tie while I take a step back in panic. He then proceeds to tug my pearl necklace from my neck. "What are you waiting for? Stop acting like you're innocent. Your father tossed your younger sister to Ford Group to be a kept woman back then. He also practically delivered you straight onto my bed, all for 30 million dollars. I'll never forget how he looked when he was begging on his knees." Everyone eagerly watches the drama unfold with champagne glasses in hand. I stare at the wedding ring on his ring finger, which is close to becoming tarnished. For the 10th time, I request a divorce. Chester sneers. "How original of you, Yuna. Yet, you eventually kneel and plead for forgiveness every time. If you leave the Ford family, who's going to pay to keep your sister alive in the ICU?"

As I was rummaging through the trash for leftovers, my wife, who had died three years ago, suddenly showed up. She stepped out of the Voyce and looked down at me from above. “Honey, you really did pass my test.” I was holding some moldy stale bread. I stared at her in bewilderment. It turned out that three years ago, at a class reunion, the school heartthrob she had once dated had suggested it. “I wanted to see if your love is real.”

After leaving Clark Stane, I married a billionaire. Just recently, he transferred all his personal assets to me. I tried saying no, but I could not reject his sincerity. He claimed that love was where money went. He wanted to give me the confidence not to rely on anyone for help. Even the asset transfer itself was to happen in Atila City, my hometown. Feeling resigned, I walked into the largest law firm in Atila City. Just as I was about to state the name I had used when I made my reservation, I suddenly heard annoyingly familiar mocking words. “Hey, aren’t you Yvonne? You’re the one who chased after Clark, weren’t you? Unfortunately for you, he’s engaged now.”

After being away for three years on a special mission, I saw a prenatal examination report on the passenger seat of my CEO wife's Maybach. Fiona Geller told me, "My sister died so young. I must leave her a child. It's just a test-tube baby with my brother-in-law. It's not an affair." The brother-in-law in question, Phillip Stanton, sent Fiona's pregnancy photos to my parents, mocking me for using his sperm to produce a baby with Fiona. My parents suffered a heart attack upon learning the news and were hospitalized. Fiona looked aggrieved. "Don't get so worked up, honey. One of the twins can have your surname!" I looked at her, completely giving up hope. I then called the unit.

On the day I caught my fiancé, Henry Smith, in our bed with my adopted sister, Stacy Ellis, I slipped into severe depression and took 30 sleeping pills. After I was saved, my parents, Harold and Karen Ellis, told me calmly that Stacy had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and only had three months to live. It was up to me if I wanted to forgive them. Henry teared up as he begged me, "It doesn't matter if you're willing to forgive. I'll keep my promise to give you a wedding in a month." When I saw how much he regretted what he did, I gave in to him. That ended when I came across a private conversation on my brother's phone. His name was Toby Ellis, and he was a doctor. Stacy had sent him a voice note, and she could be heard laughing daintily. "You're so smart, forging that medical report to trick that crazy woman, Toby." My hands were trembling when I confronted my family with the conversation. However, Toby remained silent and smoked his cigarette while my parents looked tired as they blamed me instead. "You're too emotionally fragile. We wouldn't have gone so far as to lie to you if we hadn't been afraid that you'd try to kill yourself again." Henry's eyes were filled with hate as he shielded Stacy behind him. "Can't you just be a little more accepting? Are you really determined to see your family all apart?" I watched the man I loved and my family make demands for me to give in to Stacy. I swallowed hard, tasting blood. In the end, I smiled calmly. They were willing to go as far as to claim that Stacy was suffering from a terminal illness just to protect her. All the while, they were unaware that my severe depression was real. It was also true that somatization was causing many of my organs to fail. I no longer wanted this family, especially when I would not be surviving past this winter.

On the day I was diagnosed with stage four cancer, Vivian Cross handed me a contract for a divorce reality show. I already knew that meant she'd lost another bet to her secretary, Miles Smith. They'd made ninety-nine bets over the years, and every time, Vivian let herself lose on purpose. She lost the house we decorated for our wedding. She lost the wedding itself. She even lost our son's body, handing him over so Miles could satisfy his twisted curiosity about the human body. Our baby had been seven months along when they donated his remains. He'd been so small. Vivian slid the contract across to me, tapping the papers. "Ethan, I lost another bet. It's just a reality show. Help me keep Miles happy. Besides, it'll boost your profile. You'll get more film offers after this." She forgot what happened the last time she lost a bet to him. That time, she'd signed me up to star in ten adult films without asking me first. Afterward, she promised, "I won't let a single photo of you get out." The next day, the videos they forced me to shoot went viral anyway. I was blacklisted across the entire industry. No director would touch me after that. I signed the new contract without a word of protest. Vivian looked pleased and leaned in to kiss the corner of my mouth. "Remember to pick 'stay married' at the end. We'll get off the ride together at the finish line." She had no idea we'd never make it that far.

At our seventh-anniversary party, our friends are playing one of those viral personality games where people are compared to animals. Mindy Sutton props her chin on her hand and looks at Julian Payne. "What animal am I?" she asks. Julian doesn't even hesitate before answering, "A cat. You have a bad temper, you're always scratching people, and you love making other people's lives difficult." Mindy is just about to glare at him when he smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But purebred cats are supposed to be high-maintenance. No matter how much money or patience it takes to keep them happy, they're worth it." The crowd erupts with teasing, saying that isn't an insult, and that Julian is clearly just bragging about having a precious cat. Someone else asks, "What about Celine?" Julian glances at me. For a long moment, he says nothing. "Her? A dog." A friend immediately jumps in to smooth things over, saying, "Right. Celine is like a puppy—warm, cheerful, and always following around the person she loves." Julian lowers his head and chuckles. "No. She's a dog because no matter how many times you chase her away, she keeps coming back. I've blocked her 27 times and called off our weddings three times. At most, she cries for one night, then comes crawling back to me the next day." Everyone at the table bursts into laughter. Before the night ends, a jewelry store delivers two gift boxes. Mindy receives a rare cat's-eye bracelet worth 480 thousand dollars, while I receive a silver dog tag. Engraved on the back of the dog tag are the words, "If lost, please return to Julian Payne." Mindy doubles over with laughter and leans against his shoulder. "Aren't you worried she'll actually run away one day?" Julian fastens the bracelet around her wrist and answers casually, "Dogs are loyal to their owners." I smile too. That night, I place the dog tag on top of the receipt of the cancellation of our fourth wedding. This time, I'm not going back to him.

A viral post pops up on my feed. "Did you betray anyone?" One reply underneath catches my attention. "My best friend, I guess. But honestly, it's not my fault. His girlfriend is exactly my type. The moment he introduced me to her, I fell for her. "At our graduation party, I got them both wasted and made my move on her. That lucky bastard had no idea how good he had it. "Later, I lied and told him I wanted to go abroad. By then, they were already married, but the truth was, I was only a state away, staying with his wife while she was pregnant with my child. "His wife comes to see us all the time now. The three of us are so happy together. "Technically speaking, I'm not the other man. The marriage certificate between his wife and me is the real one. We just never had a wedding. "There's nothing wrong with fighting for love. Don't give up just because the person you like is already taken!" Attached to the comment is a photo of a man and woman holding hands, their fingers intertwined. The faint scar on her wrist gives her away. The woman in that photo is my wife, Clara Lowden.

I had just returned from the world's largest tech summit when my mentor called. She has always been like a mother to me. She told me she had arranged a marriage for me, with the daughter of a close friend of hers, Tania Jones. She was a rising talent in the capital's business scene, and a number of my patents were licensed to her company, forming the core technology behind their latest products. After working late in the lab, I changed into a carefully chosen suit and went to the engagement ceremony. However, I was stopped at the entrance by Elias Yates, Tania's personal assistant. He was wearing a perfectly tailored designer suit, every detail immaculate. He looked more like the groom than I did. "If you know what's good for you, walk away," he said with an icy smirk. "An orphan with no background should know his place. You are not worthy of Ms. Jones." I frowned and replied, "Does Tania know you are speaking on her behalf like this?" Elias let out a mocking laugh. "A kept man living off his mentor's reputation could never understand how important I am to Ms. Jones." There was obsession and pride shining in his eyes. I looked at him for a moment, then dialed Tania. "If this is your idea of welcoming your fiancé," I said evenly, "then perhaps my patents should only be shown to you on paper, right before I sell them to your rival instead."

To help her childhood sweetheart, David Middleton, take my place studying abroad, my wife, Sharon Griffin, destroys my records and deliberately fills in false information, ensuring that I'm permanently denied a visa. She even severely injured my hands before sending me to the Behavioral Reform Center. My mother-in-law, Paula Brown, who has always treated me with affection, takes Sharon's side. "Kyle is so ungrateful. We gave him everything, and he still wanted to get a PhD abroad to find his biological parents. Who's going to take care of me if he's gone?" Sharon snorts. "He's just vain. When he found out I'd turned down Westbridge's offer of admission, he gave me the silent treatment and threatened to divorce me. If I let him go abroad, he'd think he could do whatever he wanted. "As my husband, he has everything he could ever need, yet he still wants to take David's opportunities away from him. Maybe the Behavioral Reform Center can teach him to appreciate what he has." A semester later, Sharon goes to the airport to pick up David, who's returning from his studies abroad. For the first time in a long while, she asks her assistant, Adam Norris, "It's been so long. Has Kyle learned his lesson? Tell him he can come home for the winter break." She doesn't know that I've already died on the very first day she sent me to that reform center.

After I landed a five-million-dollar contract and saved the company from financial collapse, my CEO wife wrapped me in an excited embrace and said she wanted to have a baby with me. She took out her phone and showed me a virtual baby on an app she had just signed up for. "Look, honey," she said. "Isn't it adorable? You can even change how it looks. Do you like it? Once things settle down at the company, we can have a real one." That night, I came across a post by her male secretary on social media. It was a photo of a positive pregnancy test, with my wife's figure visible in the background. I did not comment. I just liked the post. When my wife noticed, she panicked and called me immediately. "Honey, it's not what you think. Please listen to me! I wanted to surprise you. The baby is yours! "Can you clear things up on social media for everyone? I promise I'll give you a child of your own soon." She insisted the baby was mine, yet she seemed to have forgotten that we had not shared a bed in six months. "End the pregnancy," I said. "We're finished."

After I lost my five-year-old daughter, I slit my wrists for the 49th time in a haze of grief. My husband was bandaging the wound when he suddenly broke down. "You and our daughter got into that car accident because I put sleeping pills in your milk. "I've already stayed by your side through your treatment to atone for what I did. How much longer are you going to torture me?" I stared at Nicholas Halston, my eyes wide with disbelief. He took a deep breath, as if a weight had finally lifted from his shoulders. "The woman I've been seeing on the side for the past three years is actually your foster sister. "I drugged you because she wanted to do something reckless in the house that day. I was afraid you'd find out and divorce me. "I didn't know you'd leave the house afterward." The relief on his face felt like a rusted blade driven straight into my heart. After I drank the milk, the nanny rushed in to tell me our daughter had a high fever. I couldn't reach Nicholas, so I drove her to the hospital myself. Halfway there, drowsiness overwhelmed me. I slammed into an oncoming car, and our daughter died on the spot. Grief and guilt consumed me. I hated myself for the carelessness I believed had killed her. I never imagined that Nicholas and Rosalind Sommers were the true culprits. I laughed and cried like I'd lost my mind. Nicholas spoke again, his voice heavy with endless exhaustion. "Whether you want to have another child and start fresh or keep trying to kill yourself, that's up to you." The next second, his phone lit up with a pregnancy test report from Rosalind.