Mistress

After I became pregnant, my figure changed, and my face grew puffy. My fiancé began to treat me with a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of disdain. When the baby was five months along, it happened to be Valentine's Day. That day, he finally agreed to take our wedding photos, something I'd been hoping for. But just as we arrived at the bridal studio, his phone rang. "Mike, I just got back to the country. My friends are hosting a gathering, and everyone's bringing their boyfriends. Could you come and pretend to be mine?" It was a few short sentences, yet it completely altered the expression on his face. He turned abruptly, stepping out of the studio with a look of urgency. "Lucy's back. I have to go see her," he said. Hearing those words, a fire of rage ignited inside me, one I couldn't suppress. "For her? You're going to leave me here alone?" I demanded. "Do you even know how long I've been looking forward to today? It's Valentine's Day, and instead of staying with me, you're going to be with her?" His impatience flared visibly as I stood my ground. Without a word, his hand pushed me aside, and he strode out of the shop. "We can take wedding photos any day. I'm the only one Lucy has in this country. I have to go see her," he said. Then, gripping my wrist with alarming force, he shoved me, sending me sprawling to the floor. Without a backward glance, he got into his car and drove off. I felt a sudden, wet heat flowing from my lower abdomen. Pain surged through my stomach, sharp and unbearable, as my consciousness started to fade. A wave of despair and terror consumed me. Someone. Anyone. Please save my baby.

On the day Andrew Zelenski confesses his feelings to the pretty transfer student, everyone thinks I'll break down. They expect me to come running while crying and trying to stop him. I don't show up even after he confesses, though. Andrew has no idea that while he's busy confessing, I'm wearing his roommate's hoodie and sitting on his roommate's bed. I look at his roommate innocently and ask, "How are we going to sleep tonight now that I've wet your bed?" Spencer Lithgow looks away from me as his Adam's apple bobs. He throws a towel at me. "Go dry your hair. You can sleep once I've changed the sheets."

My secretary replaced me on my wedding day, walking down the aisle in a white wedding gown. The man I had loved for ten years threw the bridesmaid dress in my face and ordered me to wear it instead. "She is the bride now. You'll be next," he said coldly. My grandmother was so furious that she fell ill on the spot. Meanwhile, he and the secretary smiled brightly as they completed the wedding ceremony. After the grand wedding, the secretary posted photos of herself in her wedding gown on social media. The comments were overwhelmingly congratulatory. [Today is such a beautiful day, I finally got what I wanted. I hope those who try to ruin someone else's relationship will wake up soon.] She wrote. Chester Morrison replied to her post: [It is a great day. Don't ruin your good mood by some trash.] When I returned home, holding my grandmother's photo, who had passed away, I found them tangled together on the bedspread my grandmother had lovingly sewn for me, the one with a pair of Swan that symbolizes eternal love.

My movie star husband's girlfriend suspected I was the other woman. She confronted me in public, beat me until I lost my child, and even left my face scarred beyond recognition. "You shameless homewrecker! How dare you seduce someone else's man—and even get pregnant?" she screamed in rage. "I'll send you and that child of yours straight to hell today!" And as for my husband, he didn't even spare me a glance. All he cared to say was, "Why did you bother hitting her yourself? Did your hand hurt?" But when he finally discovered that the woman his girlfriend had scarred and caused to miscarry was me, he lost his mind.

There's this unspoken rule in werewolf high society: no matter how tight the mate bond is, business banquets mean booking a hostess. Six years into our bond, my Alpha mate—Brian Stormclaw—met one. Louise. A scrappy Omega with too much pride and not enough sense. When he offered her his black card, she pushed it back and said, "I'm not some Alpha's pampered pet." Brian? Instantly hooked. Like the Moon Goddess herself had dropped her in his lap. He chased her like he wanted her mark on every pack crest. But he forgot something—I was the Luna he wrote ninety-nine love letters to before I said yes. I didn't beg. Didn't snap. Every time he chose her over me, I lit another letter. First one burned on our anniversary—he bailed to wait outside Louise's flower shop, just to walk her home. Letter thirty-four? He left me stranded in a dangerous hunting ground to keep her company. Said she was scared of the dark. Fifty-two? Torched the second he replaced our wedding photo with some sketch she made on. ... And when the ninety-ninth turned to ash, so did whatever was left of us. I walked away. For good.

He had once sworn I was his fated Luna, the Omega he cherished above all. However, just a month shy of our bonding, he decided to repay a life-saving grace by fathering a child with his old flame. To add insult to injury, he swiped the herbal research I was on the cusp of unveiling. He claimed he was trapped, obligated to both sides. I, however, was done with him. I cut ties, called off our Bonding Ceremony, and set off for the Northwood tundra to lose myself in my research. Two years on, he pleaded for my return, professing I was his one true love. However, by then, I was renowned far and wide, and he was nothing to me.

Seven years back, Sam had met a cute , Sweet girl in a friend’s wedding reception. He has come across countless girls since then but no one could stir his heart like that girl..Seven years later, He is one of the youngest successful architect in the IT industry . Christine has been greatly appreciated for her work by everyone. Her Boss forces her to accept an on site role. However, Upon reaching Country N, she realises she has fallen right into the trap setup by someone.That someone is very “Powerful” and want his sweetheart to stay by his side . She is his true love. Author Notes: Mon- Fri 1 chapter DailyThere is no Rape or major misunderstandings in this novel . This novel is for those readers who are tired of CEO, Actress, Mistress plots. Warning : lT industry terminology used whereby necessary

"If you offend Alpha Carlen, Luna Irene might plead for you. But if you cross Luna Irene, there won't even be a scrap of you left." That's a widely circulated saying in the werewolf upper circles. I'm Irene Chandler. Because of one game, I've decided to dissolve the mate bond with Carlen Alvarado. During the game, he says drunkenly, "I love resting my head on the belly of an expecting she-wolf and listening to the pup's heartbeat." The room falls silent. Every werewolf turns to look at me. There's no surprise in their eyes. What I see is their pity for me, the rightful Luna, and a flicker of panic that their secret has been exposed. At that moment, I understood everything. They all know Carlen has a pup with another woman. They've been helping him hide it from me. That's because they know I'm Carlen's everything. I'll leave him if I ever find out. And if I leave, he'll lose his mind. I have to admit that they know me well. After learning the truth, I plan to do three things. First, I toss the wedding ring Carlen designed for me into the furnace. Second, I save the video of Lily Chalvez flaunting her pregnancy to provoke me onto a flash drive. Third, I submit documents to the Pack Affairs Department, applying to become a researcher on the isolated Icebound Island. The day I leave the pack happens to be our seventh wedding anniversary. I'll vanish from his life like a wisp of smoke.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

I received a call the day before my wedding. "Miss McPherson, someone has thrashed your venue." I rushed to the hotel in confusion only to meet a woman waving my wedding photo. "You homewrecking skank! You seduced my husband and spent his money on this wedding!" The crowd believed her and went wild. Even the hotel manager piled on me. "I knew something was fishy when the groom never showed up! You're not his real wife!" The crowd turned into a violent mob. In that chaos, I miscarried. At the height of my fury, I texted my secretary: [Cancel the wedding, and kick Matteo Brando out of my company!] How dare he keep a mistress with my fortune! How dare she challenge me! I will destroy them!