قصص وروايات قصيرة تضم Mistress وتدور في Revenge

On the day of our bonding ceremony, my blood bound, Alaric, took the eternal vows with his true love right before my eyes—his true love, who had only a few years left to live. He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, “I arranged a wolf attack on Elara so that she couldn't arrive at the ceremony on time, and I’ll take the Eternal Vows with you first.” “By our Clan’s law, since I took the vows with you first, you are my legal wedlock, whereas Elara is just a mistress.” He added. Everyone cheered and blessed them as he pulled her in his arms and kissed her passionately. I witnessed all of this, but I didn't cry or kick up a fuss. I've loved Alaric for decades, but I still couldn’t compare to Celeste, a half-blood vampire, created by my father. If that's the case, I'll let him go. Later, I joined the mortal world far away from our Clan. All that I left behind was a miscarriage report with my baby’s DNA , who couldn’t survive the wolf attack they had planned for me. Alaric had never cared for me, so it's odd that he would lose his mind over the loss of a child I bore for him.

Five years ago, my then girlfriend betrayed me for Ethan Reid. Together, they staged a car accident that killed both my parents. Then they hired someone to assault and murder my younger sister, who wasn't even sixteen, and framed me for it. I was thrown in prison where I suffered every day. It was Serena Cole who risked everything to become my defense attorney. She cleared my name and courted me with everything she had. She told me I was all she could see, that I was her whole world. When I finally gave her my whole heart, I looked down from upstairs and saw her kissing Ethan like she couldn't get enough of him, days before our wedding. Right there in our wedding car, they crossed every line. "Bold move, bride. Not worried the groom might see?" Ethan whispered. "His legs are crippled because of you. You know better than anyone whether he can even make it downstairs," Serena replied. "What's this, feeling guilty now? Every dirty thing I ever did to him, you were the one who planned it. You want me to tell him that?" "If you say a word, I swear I'll take you down with me," came her ragged response. Ethan bit her ear roughly, driving her over the edge. "Sure, sure. I know you love him so much. So doesn't this make it even more exciting? Say it. Who's your daddy?" She broke apart beneath him, saying his name over and over, breathless and undone. The tears hit me before I could stop them. She had known. All along, she had known everything that happened to me. And not only that, she had helped plan it.

All it took was a single exchange between my sister and Giselle’s lover, and my daughter accused her of stealing a gold bracelet. As a result, my sister was left to die in a warehouse for three whole days. With my sister’s life hanging by a thread, I got on my knees and pleaded before my wife and daughter. “Please, let Lucy go. She won’t speak to Theo again.” Faced with my pleas, my daughter simply let out a cruel smile. “I can release her, but only if she returns the bracelet.” Lucy never took the bracelet in the first place. There was no way she could return something that was never in her possession. Agony ripped through me as I crawled toward Giselle. “Please, Giselle. I’m begging you. Please let her go. She’s going to die at this rate!” Giselle took one cold, hard look at me before uttering, “So she’s been hung to dry for three days. She won’t die. If you really want her release, you should hand over your mother’s keepsake to Theo.”

On my wedding day, Matteo Castello's younger adopted sister, Gisella Castello, delivers me a wedding gift consisting of a worn condom. There's a note pressed underneath said condom. "Lucia, I've already tested Matteo for you. He's really good in bed." I lose my mind on the spot. That night, I sleep with three of Matteo's friends, and I make sure to leave hickeys all over my body. The next morning, Matteo kicks open my room door. Soon, a few sacks are tossed into my room, courtesy of his subordinates. The men whom I've slept with the night before are the ones contained in those sacks. Shocked beyond my wits, I let out a blood-curdling scream. I can barely feel my limbs as I scramble away from those sacks. But Matteo reaches out to grip me by the chin and lift my head forcefully. "What are you afraid of? They were already plotting behind my back. I was worried that I might not be able to deal with them without a proper excuse. What I didn't expect is that you, my dear wife, are sweet and understanding enough to give me a reason for doing so." My head buzzes loudly at that moment. I can feel my blood running cold in my veins. Finally, I realize that this is just a trap that Matteo has set up for me. That's when I completely break down. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I do my best to flee from my room, only to get thrown into the punishment chamber in the end. What he doesn't know is that I'm already pregnant at that time. One year later, the punishment chamber's door is finally opened. Sunlight is cast onto my pale face. Everyone tells me that Matteo is here to take me home. Instead of saying anything, I take my phone and head over to a secluded corner, where I place a phone call. "I got released, Mr. Lombardi. Let's meet up."

In my past life, my marriage was ruined by a so-called “male best friend.” On our wedding anniversary, he taunted me in front of everyone. “Javier is one lucky guy. Last night I noticed Sophie’s bust has gotten even fuller. It’s so smooth and supple.” Sophie Santos completely disregarded my dignity. She laughed and said they were just close friends who even showered together. I punched him. The very next day, I handed her the divorce papers. She accused me of overreacting and forced me to kneel and apologize to him. I stormed out in anger. However, I never expected the bridge we were overseeing to suddenly collapse. It caused massive casualties. In the end, I was sent to prison for ten years. On visiting day, he actually showed up too. “Thanks a lot, Javier. You signed off on the project. So naturally you’re the one who’s going to serve time.” I glared at him with bloodshot eyes. He leaned close to the microphone. His voice was as soft as a venomous snake flickering its tongue. “Don’t worry, I’ve got everything sorted out in there… just take your time suffering.” Three months later, I was beaten to death by a prison bully on the cold concrete floor. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the anniversary. At that moment, my female best friend kicked the door open and straddled my crotch. “Don’t mind me, Sophie. We grew up naked together. “I know his… measurements from every stage of his life.”

In my previous life, I used the golden blood of the dragon to nurture my beast wife, Priscilla Slither. That was how she became the strongest fighter in the beast world. But the first thing Priscilla did after becoming the young mistress of the Snake clan was enter the Secret Realm and find the Sacred Heart for her first love, Jasper Whiskers. I didn't want Priscilla becoming the public enemy of the entire beast world, so I went so far as to use up all of my cultivated power just to stop her. Jasper had a very weak bloodline. Without the Sacred Heart, he would definitely fail to evolve. But Priscilla didn't blame me for my antics. Instead, she became even more lovey-dovey with me. I thought Priscilla finally saw my efforts and realized how good a husband I had been to her. But as soon as she became the elder of the Snake clan, she had me skinned alive. "Kael Vaxenroth, you're the reason behind Jasper's failure in evolution and eventual death after his lifespan ran out! You should've died a long time ago just to make it up to him!" Just like that, I died in endless agony. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Priscilla insists on stealing the Sacred Heart from the Secret Realm. This time, I want to witness how Priscilla and Jasper seal their own fates with their actions!

The night I planned to tell him who I really was—under the full moon—my boyfriend of three years, Logan, walked up to me with another woman on his arm. He looked down at me and said: "Seraphina. I've been formally appointed the new Alpha of the Greywolf Pack. Only an elder's daughter is fit to be my Luna. A pack-doctor with blood as thin as yours can crawl back to the slums and patch up Omegas where you belong." But I was the highest-born princess of the Werewolf Royal Pack. So tell me—shouldn't I just have my brother, the Werewolf King, strip the Alpha title off this man and exile him to the Frostlands to keep company with the rogues?

After Isabella loses the three children she carried for the mafia don Matteo, she finally tears herself away from his lies. But when Matteo discovers the truth behind the deaths, his guilt collides with the woman he once used as a pawn, and every secret he buried comes back to destroy the power he thought he controlled.

At her lavish engagement party, Charlotte Ashford learns that her fiancé Connor has been cheating for three years with Sophia, the sister she loved most. When their betrayal unearths old lies, stolen memories, and the truth behind her parents' final moments, Charlotte cuts them out, rebuilds her life, and leaves Connor to face the regret he thought she would never make him feel.

I spent six months and over $20,000 to plan a family vacation. However, when my mate's childhood sweetheart Ethan heard about our trip, he wanted to join us. Chloe didn't hesitate. She cancelled my spot in the protected convoy and gave it to him instead. She forced me to travel alone through deadly Shadow Pack territory — a thirty-six hour journey where three wolves had died last month. The whole family supported Chloe's decision without a thought for my safety. So I changed my travel plans. I headed north instead of south. I spent three months enjoying myself, ignoring their mindlink messages. That's when the family started to panic...

I was an ordinary mortal girl who lived at the foot of Mount Olympus. Caelum, King of the Gods, descended from the heavens for me once, transforming himself into a shower of gold. He took me to the peak of Olympus over every other god’s objection. He built a shrine on the mountain that belonged to me alone, every god on Olympus knew the same truth: I was the only mortal love of Caelum’s endless life. Then I gave birth to our daughter, Nia. The Fates declared her a cursed child whose existence would bring disaster to the gods, and Nia and I were sent back down to the small cottage at the foot of the mountain. Seraphina, Goddess of Flame, said she could help cleanse Nia of the curse, and with Caelum’s quiet consent she came every month and burned my daughter with divine fire. Nia screamed under that fire, sobbing for me . I ran into the temple to beg Caelum to stop it, and I found him in bed with Seraphina. The pure, holy Goddess of Flame was moaning beneath him. They threw me into the depths of Tartarus, where Seraphina handed me over to the Erinyes to be torn apart day after day. When Nia turned five, they finally let me out, but by then my Nia had been burned to ash. The day I was gathering her ashes, the message stone in my room suddenly lit up, and a projection flickered out of it: Caelum, as he had been five years ago. His eyes were full of joy and anticipation, and his voice was so gentle it almost made me believe time had folded back on itself. “Sweetheart, is it a boy or a girl? Did our child inherit my power?” In the projection his expression shifted, and the smile froze on his face. That was when the door of my room was pushed open, and the present-day Caelum, five years older than the man in the stone, strode inside. I turned the message stone around so the Caelum from five years ago could see Nia’s urn with his own eyes. “It’s a girl,” I said. “But she didn’t live long enough to inherit your power. She was burned to ash.”

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

A blizzard had buried the mountain, turning every road into a death trap. Locals called it Deadman's Pass—seventy-two icy switchbacks with zero room for error. As the only person who had ever made it through without a scratch, I'd just gotten a million-dollar rescue call from beyond the final curve. Ten years ago, I went there once. My seventeen-year-old daughter, Maya, was skydiving with her classmates when a violent air current forced an emergency landing. The rescue came too late. She died there. Later, I learned my husband, Jayden Boone, had ignored Maya's safety. He poured hundreds of thousands of dollars into the rescue effort and redirected every team to save his ex's daughter instead. The girl had only sprained her ankle on a hiking trip. The day Maya died, I walked away from my career as a professor and stayed here, living as a broke driver. I risked my life running Deadman's Pass again and again until I knew every turn by heart. In the ten years since, no one else had died on that road. Today, a friend shoved a million-dollar rescue job in front of me and told me to leave right away. I looked at the face in the photo—the one I could never forget. Then I smiled and tossed my keys onto the table. "I can't take this job."

When I arrived at my wedding in my bridal gown, I found an octagonal fighting ring set up in the center of the stage. My fiance, Derek Hale, was holding the hand of his "girl bro," Chloe Shaw. With a smile, he handed me a pair of boxing gloves and explained, "Vivian, this is a tradition from my hometown. The bride has to get into the ring and wrestle one of the groomsmen for good luck. I asked Chloe to go up. Just play along for a minute." Looking at Chloe, who was always acting frail and sickly, I did not think much of it and stepped straight into the ring. But the next second, she threw an extremely professional spinning kick and knocked me unconscious with a severe concussion on the spot. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed. Derek stood there holding Chloe's hand and said to me, "Our relatives and friends gave us so much wedding money. The wedding can't go on without a bride. Chloe is willing to take care of me in your place. You're so kind, Vivian. You won't mind, right?" Under the torture of humiliation and severe depression, I pushed my wheelchair off the rooftop of our wedding home. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one month before the wedding. I turned around and knocked on the door of a national-level kickboxing champion training base. "Coach, if I trained for a month, can I punch someone's head open?"

The risks of my mom's heart transplant surgery are very high. My wife, Wendy Lowell, is known to be a miracle doctor. Everyone advises me to convince her to perform the surgery on Mom. But when I arrive at the hotel Wendy is staying at, I witness her assistant, Hayden Sterling, changing her panties for her. I glare at Wendy angrily. "Wendy, if you agree to perform the surgery on my mom right now, I'll let you off the hook this time!" But Wendy slowly wraps her arms around Hayden's neck right in front of me. "What are you looking at? Are you threatening me?" She picks up her phone on the spot. "Switch off the oxygen machine for Finn's mother right now." My eyes go bloodshot as I grip the door frame tightly. "Wendy Lowell, that's your mother-in-law! Karma will definitely bite you in the ass!" Wendy goes into an outburst as soon as she hears me. "Shut up! If it wasn't for the fact that the hag found out about me and Hayden, our affair wouldn't have gotten leaked to the public! "All I did is turn off your mom's oxygen machine, Finn! I didn't refuse the surgery! Once I've cooled off, I'll go ahead and carry out the surgery!" Then, Wendy orders her bodyguards to throw me out of the hotel. I scramble up to my feet in a wretched manner, though my hands have already balled into fists. Soon, I send a newly drafted text as an unknown number. "Dr. Lowell has suffered from bone fractures all over her body. She's currently at…"

On the day my dad gets kidnapped, I call my wife, Eliza Wood, who has a net worth of 100 million dollars, for help while sobbing. After she hears me out, she lets out a chuckle. "I've transferred three million dollars to you. This time, be a good boy and don't bother Leon." I quickly agree to Eliza's condition. After that, I transfer the money into the kidnapper's bank account. But when Dad is about to get released, Eliza pulls off some tricks to retrieve the ransom money and freeze the kidnapper's bank account. Thinking that I've tricked him, the furious kidnapper decides to kill Dad. But first, he torments Dad for three long hours before finally ending his life. When I'm on the way to pick up Dad's ashes, I notice photos of Eliza and her newly-hired assistant, Leon Turner, taking over every billboard and monitor in the city. After dealing with Dad's ashes at home, I call Eliza on the phone. "Let's get a divorce." Eliza and Leon's laughter can be heard drifting over the speaker. "This again? Leon told me that you're spending too much money, so he convinced me to give you a light punishment. Don't tell me you got mad at me because of that."

On my wedding day, my husband's female bestie showed up holding a torn bridesmaid dress and accused me of assaulting her in front of all our guests. I had no way to defend myself, so I turned to my husband for help. Instead, he looked at me with fake disappointment and publicly labeled me a lesbian. Then, to get his hands on my family's assets, he had me committed to a psychiatric hospital, where I was tortured and humiliated. I barely managed to escape, only to die in a car accident they'd carefully planned. It wasn't until my final moments that I found out the truth—the torn bridesmaid dress wasn't evidence of my crime. It was proof of their affair in the stairwell moments before the ceremony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my dressing room, minutes before the wedding. This time, I'm going to make sure those two pay for everything.

My fiancé Julian owed $50 million in gambling debts. He and my best friend Chloe drugged me. They sold me to an underground casino in New York. I woke up in a cell. I stared through the iron bars at the man I had loved for five years. My heart broke. Julian thought I would still fight back. He sneered at me through the bars. "Save it. No more tricks. I owe Don Victor $50 million. You’re my only way out." "Victor loves breaking stuck-up artists like you. You think you're so high and mighty? Crawl into his bed and beg. Let's see how he rips off your cheap lace!" "Once he's done breaking you, Chloe and I will get married. We’ll take over your gallery. It’s perfect!" The drugs still clouded my brain. My body went limp. I collapsed on the dirty floor. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Five years of pure devotion. This was my reward. Absolute betrayal. But they didn't know the truth. They didn't know Don Victor. The ruthless tyrant. The mafia boss who ruled the American underworld. He was my father. Ever since my mother died, my father guarded me like fragile glass. He was terrified the world would leave even a single scratch on me. Now, Julian was serving me up like a piece of meat. To please my own father. If he knew I was the one in this cage... Soon, the entire New York underworld would face the Don's absolute fury.

Before my death, I repeatedly remind my son, Clark Sinclair, what to do after I pass away. I stress that my heart must be donated to my husband, Craig Sinclair. He has suffered from dilated cardiomyopathy for 30 years. This is the last thing I can do for him. Clark shakes me off impatiently and snaps, "Enough. Stop pretending to be kind. Dad was never sick." I think I must have misheard him. "What?" He lets out a cold laugh and continues, "If you hadn't refused to divorce him all these years, why would he have needed to fake an illness just to be with Vern in secret?" My whole body trembles as I demand proof. Clark hands me a marriage certificate. On it are the names Craig and Verna Bloom, my widowed sister-in-law. The two lean against each other intimately, smiling sweetly at the camera. In an instant, rage and grief overwhelm me. The family I spend half my life building turns out to be nothing more than a complete lie. Clark continues expressionlessly, "Actually, Vern is my real mother. Your child was drowned in a bathtub long ago. Back then, Dad and Vern couldn't resist each other. She went into premature labor and nearly bled to death. She gave birth to me on the same day you gave birth. "Dad was so frightened that he developed heart palpitations. He was afraid you'd never stop causing trouble if you found out, so he pretended to be sick for 30 years." Curled up on the floor, I cough up a mouthful of blood. "Why tell me now?" Clark looks at me with eyes full of nothing but hatred. "You stole Vern's place for 30 years. And now, even on your deathbed, you want my dad to owe you a favor. Why should he?" An inexplicably bitter taste fills my mouth. In the end, I die consumed by regret. When I open my eyes again, I find myself in the delivery room next to Verna's. A wave of excruciating pain surges through my lower body.

When I came home from a mission, I found that my wife had accidentally taken my military-grade truth serum. The supplements I had bought for her were still sitting untouched nearby. A thought crossed my mind. I bent down and gently hugged her. "How do you want to spend your birthday this year?" My wife answered without any hesitation, "I want to spend the whole day with Randy. I hope you disappear!" I slowly straightened up and stared at her in disbelief. "What... Do you mean?" Randy was my best friend. Whenever I was busy, I often asked him to look after things at home. My wife smiled sweetly. "Every time you go back to base, we spend the whole day in the master bedroom. It would be even better if you died on a mission. That way, I could take your death benefits and be with him." After that, she passed out. The next morning, my wife hugged me affectionately. "Honey, what kind of supplements did you buy me? I fell asleep right after drinking them, as if I blacked out or something." I calmly pushed her away. "Maybe they help with sleep. By the way, how do you want to spend your birthday this year?"