Mistress Revenge Short Stories & Novels

Before the contract was even signed, the client's representative casually said he was craving pancakes with maple syrup. I didn't hesitate. I texted my fiancé, Nigel Cross, and asked him to stand in line and grab some. He came back with the box, all proud of himself. The client took one bite, and within seconds, his face went red. Hives bloomed across his neck. He shot to his feet, furious, and called the whole deal off on the spot. Then he turned around and handed the million-dollar order to Olivia Field, the intern who had rushed to grab him allergy meds. Three months of grinding work were gone just like that. I stood there, my throat tight, trying not to fall apart. Nigel squeezed my shoulder, his voice soft as he said, "It was just bad luck. Don't beat yourself up." I nodded weakly, drained of energy. But the second I stepped away, I heard him laughing in the break room with his friend. "That guy's seriously allergic to mango. Good thing I added mango syrup to the pancakes. Olivia's about to score a huge year-end bonus. Enough for a down payment on her new apartment." His friend hesitated. "Melissa hasn't slept in a month over that deal. She was working while she was sick. She needed that money for her mom's surgery—" Nigel waved him off, already annoyed. "She has me. Isn't that enough? Olivia earned this." My hands curled into fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. Bad luck? Yeah, right. Nigel had planned every second of it. And now, he thought he could smooth it over by marrying me someday, toss me a few cheap words, and I would just swallow it. I was done with that disgusting man.

My son, Ryan Fischer, gets into a car accident and urgently requires a blood transfusion. I get on my knees and beg my widowed sister-in-law, Serena Lowe, to donate her blood to him. However, my husband, Neil Fischer, stops me. "You can't use Serena's blood, because she's Ryan's actual biological mother," he says. I fail to understand the meaning behind his words. "Although Serena helps me take care of Ryan, he's still my child in the end!" I argue. After a momentary silence, Serena kneels before me. She reveals, "Now that things have come to this, I won't keep you in the dark any longer. Your actual son was smothered to death right after birth. Ryan is Neil's and my biological child. "We had you raise him because your family is well-off. They are capable of providing Ryan with a good education and job opportunities." I'm dumbfounded. I tug on the hem of Neil's shirt and beg him to tell me that Serena's lying, only to be coldly shaken off. He declares, "If not for this sudden turn of events, we would have kept this secret until your dying day." Consumed by rage, I suffer a sudden heart attack. And yet, Neil and Serena proceed to sign a Do-Not-Resuscitate order. Instead of saving me, they wheel me off to provide Ryan with a blood transfusion. As I lie on a hospital bed, dying in agony, their family hugs each other tearfully right next door. "That woman got exactly what she deserved. We can finally be openly reunited." When I next open my eyes, I find that I have returned to the moment before I gave birth.

I was finally pregnant after three years of marriage. I was going to head to where my husband works with a lunchbox in my hand to tell him the good news. But I ended up being mistaken as a mistress by his secretary. She dumped the food I had prepared on my head, stripped my clothes off, and continued to hit me until I had a miscarriage. “You’re just a servant. How dare you seduce Mr. Gates and bear his child? “Today, I’ll make sure you suffer the consequences of being a mistress!” She then went to my husband asking for a reward. “Mr. Gates, I took care of a servant who wanted to seduce you. How are you going to reward me?”

The day I earned my Ph.D., I secretly flew home to surprise my father and brother. Instead, I walked in on them preparing a wedding for the housekeeper's daughter and my fiancé. My proud older brother, who had always listened to me, treated her like a princess. He not only gave her the wedding dress our mother had specially designed for me but even knelt to fix her train. Then my father, who had never lied to me before, stepped onto the stage and publicly announced that the housekeeper's daughter was her daughter. And I was the housekeeper's daughter. In my previous life, I chose to stay silent to protect the family's reputation. But in the end, they worked together to push me off a cliff. After my death, my mother was so devastated that my father tricked her into giving up the company and left her with nothing. She eventually died alone on the streets. Then, by some miracle, I was reborn. This time, I stormed onto the stage and ripped the veil off the smug housekeeper's daughter. "You're the one who's gone too far! How dare a housekeeper's daughter touch what belongs to me?"

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."

The hospital's latest intern, Lindsey Clark, is very pretty, but she's a total idiot as well. When my mom came to the hospital for a prescription, she swapped the vitamin C for potassium supplements, which were known to be very poisonous if misused. Mom, who was fresh out of surgery, suffered from heavy bleeding right after taking the medication. She died on the same night. Before I could hold Lindsey responsible for Mom's death, the latter quickly piped up with teary eyes, "I'm so sorry, Dr. Monroe! I just thought that potassium supplements can help your mother heal faster…" Even Michael Jones, my husband, who was the hospital director, took her side. "Your mom only had her idiocy to blame! She died because she took the wrong medication! How dare you drag Lindsey into this!" I was so furious that my cardiac arrest was triggered on the spot. Soon, I was sent into the operating room. Lindsey said she wanted to redeem herself by taking on the post as Michael's assistant in the surgery. But her hands kept trembling even when she tried to thread the suture needle. In the end, she took off her mask and picked up the suture with her teeth. Just like that, she used her saliva to wet the suture end. One day later, I died in the ICU due to a case of severe infection. When my spirit was about to fade away, I heard Lindsey crying sadly. "If it wasn't for my idiocy, Dr. Monroe wouldn't have died!" Michael just patted her dotingly on the head in return. "Having medical risks in a surgical operation is completely normal. You're still young, so stop blaming yourself already." Mom and I were cremated instantly, seeing as Michael intended to cover up our deaths. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Lindsey has just gotten recruited by the hospital.

My father, Benjamin Ward, was bedridden, paralyzed, and unable to move. The AI model he spent his entire life developing—a model powerful enough to cure terminal diseases—had been stolen and published under someone else's name. Humiliated beyond endurance, he suffered a stroke and collapsed. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even write. I swore I'd find the thief who destroyed him. My girlfriend, Maris Dawn, wept and promised to help me uncover the truth. But at a dinner party, when her first love proudly announced that he'd been specially recruited by a national research lab thanks to that very model, she immediately grabbed my arm, whispering, "Don't make a scene. Grayson just wants a good future. Don't ruin his life." Grayson Vale smirked with disdain. "The old man was about to retire anyway. Think of it as recycling waste." My vision went red. I charged at him, ready to make him pay for what he'd done to my father. Maris tripped me before I could reach him. She threw a check for ten million in my face. "Here's for your dad's medical care. Don't be shameless, alright? Grayson is a rising star. You're just a broke grad student. You should learn your place." I tore the check apart, piece by piece. That check could never buy the Dawn family a future in the world of science.

Our daughter, Luna Woods, developed a high fever. Her body was burning hot. I immediately dialed 911 for help. The dispatcher on the other end kept repeating his questions. He spoke slowly, as if deliberately stalling for time. By the time I finally heard the ambulance siren, Luna was already turning cold in my arms. In less than a year, my wife and I separated. We were consumed by endless grief and blamed for each other. Afterward, I merely existed for the sake of it. I was a hollow shell of a man. Then, one day, I received a wedding invitation from my ex-wife. The moment I played the audio invitation, a chill ran down my spine. The groom’s voice was identical to that of the slow, dawdling dispatcher from that year! I rushed out, utterly distraught, only to be hit by a roaring train. When I opened my eyes again, I heard Luna crying in the next room. Her forehead was burning hot. My wife hurriedly handed me the phone. “Quick, call 911! I’ll get a wet towel.” My hands trembled as I took the phone. When it was answered, I heard a familiar male voice through the receiver. “911, what’s your emergency?”

Three years into their marriage, Vivian Cole was thrown into the basement for the ninety-ninth time. Half her face was swollen, and a bruise darkened the corner of her eye. Before she could struggle, a bodyguard roughly forced her into a chair. “Last month, you sneaked into bars three times and went street racing once. You ended up bedridden for a week. Haven’t you learned your lesson?” Disappointment weighed heavily on Alexander Blackwood’s face. “When will you finally learn to behave and become a proper Mrs. Blackwood?” Vivian glanced at the restraints wrapped around her arms and gave him a faint smile. “So this is how a Mrs. Blackwood is supposed to be treated? I’m living worse than a stray dog on the street.” His expression darkened, and his chest heaved with anger. “If you hadn’t kept breaking the rules, I wouldn’t have had to lay a hand on you! “You’re my wife! You’re the face of the Blackwood family, not some woman out on the street who can do whatever she pleases!” “Rules, rules, rules! I’m sick of hearing about those stupid rules!” she snarled, her usually delicate face contorted with fury. “I just want to live as myself! I don’t want to be some puppet whose only purpose is to obey the Blackwood family’s rules!” Alexander stared at her with cold, unreadable eyes for a long moment. “Anyone could be Mrs. Blackwood. You could be, or any other woman.” Just as he turned to leave, Vivian spoke in a desperate, pleading voice. “Fine. Just don’t leave me. I’ll try harder to become the perfect Mrs. Blackwood.” From that day on, Vivian gave up street racing, stopped going to bars, followed every rule, and studied proper etiquette. But at a formal gala, she lost her temper and struck a woman who had been openly mocking her. Then her father, Thomas Cole, addressed that very woman as his daughter. Vivian froze. Alexander’s expression stiffened as well. The words on his lips shifted, and his face gradually settled into an impassive mask. “She has always been rebellious and poorly mannered. Her lack of discipline is my fault. “Get on your knees and apologize to her.” Vivian felt as though she’d been struck by lightning. After making sure he was truly ordering her to apologize, she stumbled backward in disbelief. Three years of marriage and five years of love. With just one sentence, he had reduced all her efforts to nothing. Dazed and heartbroken, she ran out into the street, failing to notice the truck approaching from the roadside. She was killed on the spot. But when she opened her eyes again, she realized she’d been given a second chance at life. She had returned to the days before her wedding.

The new reporter intern deliberately falsified the situation at the fire scene to secure a full-time position and create a headline. Because of her, firefighters who rushed in to fight the fire and nearly a thousand company employees were killed in an explosion. There were no bodies left to salvage. My husband, who was also my superior, gave false testimony for her sake and claimed I was the one who had made the decision. I lost my job, and everyone cursed me, telling me to die. On the day of the trial, a grieving family member of one of the victims threw a bottle of acid at me. I died in unbearable pain as the acid ate me alive. Meanwhile, my husband was busy comforting the intern. "Don't be afraid. She deserved this." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she made that false coverage.

My half-brother, Jim Sullivan, pushed me down a snowy mountain, leaving me with a fractured spine. My mom, Doris Moore, and my wife, Julia Stone, rushed me to the hospital in a panic. Later, they learned that I might be permanently paralyzed. To put my mind at ease, Julia held up a ring and swore that she would take care of me for the rest of my life. Mom also cut ties with Jim, saying she would make him pay for what he had done. They told me Jim fell off a cliff while trying to escape, and they never found his body. I believed them. That was until three years into my marriage, a friend sent me a video. In the footage, Jim, who was supposed to be dead, was holding a child in his left arm and had his right arm around Julia. "Julia, thank goodness you helped me fake my death. Otherwise, I'd be in prison right now!" Jim said. "Has Mom said when we can get the inheritance Joshua's dad left him? "I really can't stand living in hiding like this anymore!" "Jim, I know these past few years haven't been easy for you," Julia said. "If it weren't for that inheritance, I wouldn't have married that cripple. "As soon as we get that money, the three of us can be together again!" It turned out that what I thought was my salvation was just another terrible betrayal. The two women who mattered most to me had never truly cared about me. If that was the case, I wouldn't show them any mercy.

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

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.

I spent five years helping my boyfriend Marco rise to the position of Don. I nearly died countless times, but I didn't care; I loved him. He used to look at me tenderly and promised to propose to me publicly at his Don succession ceremony. But on that very day, he held the hand of another Mafia Principessa Sophia Romano and announced their engagement. To completely get rid of me, Sophia pulled a stack of photos from her bag and slammed them into my face. "See for yourself! She's been sleeping around to get intel!" In the picture, I was leaning into a man's arms. I tried to explain, but Marco interrupted me. "I always knew you were lowborn, but I didn't realize you were this cheap." "Get out!" Marco pointed at the door. "Elena, you are exiled from the family. Never let me see you again." I finally saw this man for who he truly was. He was completely subservient to me when he needed my help to seize territory, but after becoming the Godfather, he needed a more distinguished Donna, and therefore no longer needed me. I sneered; they had no idea that the man in the picture was my brother, the Don of the most powerful Corleone family. Sophia’s family was nothing compared to the Corleone family. I stopped arguing and simply turned and left. But when my true identity was finally exposed, he crawled back to me, weeping and begging for my forgiveness.

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.

As the quality control supervisor of an import company, I need to finish up the storage of the final batch of king crabs before the holiday. Just after entering the subzero freezer, the door is immediately locked shut. The alarm system also fails. When I realize I'm starting to lose body heat, I immediately take out the hand warmers from the emergency kit. However, the moment I apply them, a chilling sensation makes me instantly realize something is wrong. I scream from the cold, and the walkie-talkie transmits the boisterous laughter of my fiance, Martin Clay. "We're live-streaming the challenge of locking the company's 'Ice Queen' in the freezer. Let's see how long she lasts!" The flirty voice of his female colleague, Lilian Saunders, also comes through, "Sierra, smile for the folks in the live stream! The number one donor wants to see it!" I instantly understand that they're live-streaming a prank on me. Not only do they lock me in the freezer, but they've also replaced my life-saving hand warmers with cooling patches meant for fevers! I grit my teeth, trying hard to stay calm as I call out to them for help. "The spare… spare hand warmers… Give them to me!" My fiance's voice rings out from the walkie-talkie, sounding unconcerned, "Oops! Lily gets cold easily, and it's her time of the month. The spares are all being used to keep her belly warm! "You're so healthy that you can just jump around a little and you'll warm up! You might even get some tips from the number one donor!" I stop arguing with them. With frozen hands, I pull out the signal flare gun and aim it at the most valuable and mysterious cargo in the freezer—a tube of frozen sperm worth 200 million dollars.

I secretly ordered a delivery of a thousand roses for my wife's birthday, hoping to surprise her. After the delivery was completed, I got a message from the delivery guy. [By the way, I tossed the trash by your door on my way out. Didn't expect you to be so kinky. Good for you, man!] He even sent me a photo. In the picture was an open trash bag stuffed with shredded pantyhose. My mind went completely blank. I was overseas on a business trip. My wife was the only one at home.

My girlfriend, Elsa Smith, always avoided meeting my parents. Yet, she had no trouble turning around and playing the role of her ex-boyfriend Leo Quinn’s fiancée, happily meeting his relatives instead. And the meeting took place in the apartment I had prepared for us to live in after the wedding. What she did not realize was that I happened to be Leo’s distant cousin. She pretended not to know me and clung sweetly to Leo, saying, "This apartment was bought by my hubby, fully paid for." All the relatives were praising them as a loving couple. To keep me from exposing her, Elsa came over to warn me, "I’m just helping a friend deal with marriage pressure. If you mess this up, we’re done." So, I sincerely offered my congratulations. "Since Leo and I seem to have the same taste in houses and women, I’ve got some wedding supplies that I’m sure he’ll like. I’ll gift them to you both." That was when Elsa finally started to panic.

During a round of truth or dare, my boss, Victoria Hale, leaned in and kissed my husband, Ethan Graves. As just another junior employee, I didn’t even have the chance to call her out in front of everyone. Instead, I slipped away to the restroom and asked Ethan for a divorce. He brushed it off as if I were only sulking. "Don’t take it so seriously. She’s just had too much to drink. In the corporate world, you have to entertain, play along for the sake of the project." However, in the very next round, when Victoria was dared to kiss someone else, Ethan flipped the table in front of everyone. "Touch her, and see what happens."

I was the pack's chief healer and my mate was just an ordinary warrior. Everyone thought we were not a good match, but I didn't mind. I accepted his proposal without hesitation. But on my mating ceremony, my mate's ex-girlfriend Serena suddenly came in with a little boy. The little boy hugged Marcus' legs and called him daddy. I thought it was some kind of scam. But when Marcus saw the child's mother, his face went pale. Then he showed an expression I'd never seen before—pure adoration—as he scooped the boy into his arms. "Let's cancel our mating ceremony. I need to mark Serena first and raise the child with her. Don't worry. Even though I'm marking Serena, my heart belongs to you." He thought I loved him so much that I chose to be his second mate. He didn't expect that I would just calmly contact my childhood friend Alpha Dominic. "My mating ceremony is all set up, but I'm missing a male lead. Would you be willing to come mark me?"