A Jealous Mistress Crossword Novels & Stories

At the party, my daughter deliberately raises a question to my husband. "Daddy, since Ms. Lloyd is having your baby, does that mean we'll be living with her in the future?" He places the nicely cut steak onto my plate and answers softly, "Your mommy and I made a deal—whoever betrays first will disappear from the other's life. I can't afford for that to happen, darling, so this must stay a secret. Even when the baby is born, I will never let Mommy find out about them." Then, he signs to me, "I'll always love you." My eyes turn red-rimmed without him noticing. Little does he know, my hearing was restored a week ago. He doesn't realize I've learned about the mistress he's been hiding either. And he definitely doesn't know I've secretly bought a ticket to volunteer-teach in the Seru Plateau. All I have to do is wait for the paperwork to clear in seven days. Then, I'll disappear from his life for good.

At six months pregnant, I joined a moms’ group chat to learn parenting tips from other mothers, and one of them couldn’t resist showing off. "I’m so jealous of you guys, getting to cuddle your babies all day. Not like me—I'm handing mine off to a free nanny right after giving birth!" 'Free nanny? Since when are nannies free?' I tapped on her profile picture—and the sight of that hand draped over her shoulder made cold sweat run down my back.

I saved my husband, Raffaello, the Don of the mafia, from the hands of a rival family. In return, he forced me to kneel before his childhood sweetheart, Sofia, and bark like a dog just to cheer her up. Our son, Lorenzo, wandered into the family's chemical plant out of childish curiosity, so I dragged him out with my own hands. Only for him to look me in the eye and said that I wasn't worthy of being his mother. What my husband didn't know was that when the assassins came for him, I had deliberately drew them away, letting them capture me instead. They had injected a virus into body, which burned my throat and destroyed my voice forever. What my son didn't know either was that inside the chemical plant where I rescued him, I had inhaled an overwhelming amount of toxic powder, which later caused me to have severe asthma. That night, when my asthma flared up and my lungs began to fail, I used what little strength I had left to call my husband. He impatiently rebuked me, "Grace, stop bothering me for once. A person who is really dying wouldn't make such a scene. Don't think that I don't know that you're just jealous, trying to compete with Sofia for my attention." I collapsed into the snow, greedily gasping for the final breath of air. Then, everything went still. Later, Raffaello, who never loved me lost his mind. He injected the same virus over and over again into his body, just to feel the pain I once endured. Lorenzo, who refused to acknowledge me, attempted suicide repeatedly, begging fate to trade his life for mine. But, sadly, by then, I no longer loved them.

At the concert, my husband James Felton and his assistant ended up on the kiss cam. They made for a beautiful couple, and the clip immediately went viral. In the video, I saw my son cheering in between them. The next thing I did was share the video on my Instagram feed with the caption, [How sweet.] James immediately gave me a video call, labeling me a jealous woman. “We were only acting to fool her ex! Stop making a fuss out of everything!” Our friends in the know were all laughing behind my back, placing bets on when I would apologize. This time, however, I was not going to play to their tune.

I had been married for five years, but my belly remained flat—no sign of a child. Then, on my 35th birthday, I suddenly found out I was pregnant. When I shared the good news with my husband, he flew into a rage. Instead of being happy, he accused me of carrying someone else's baby. Only then did I learn he had a mistress. He even claimed he wanted a "real" child—one that truly belonged to him—with her. I thought he was just being irrational and would eventually come to his senses. After getting an amniocentesis, I immediately brought him the paternity test results to prove the baby was his. He came home acting like a changed man—hugging me, kissing me, claiming that he didn't cheat on me. The very next day, he booked a hotel and threw a banquet, announcing to all our friends and family that he was going to be a father. However, when his mistress saw the news, she completely lost it. She showed up with a group of people, blocked me in the street, and—despite my pregnancy—started punching and kicking me. "You shameless woman! How dare you carry my man's child? Are you that desperate to die?"

Everyone said I was Domenico Calvetti's most obedient woman. On our first wedding anniversary, he flirted with a pair of twins at the gambling table. He had lipstick smeared all over his shirt. I smiled and wiped it away with a silk handkerchief, but he swatted my hand aside. "Don't kill the mood." In the third year, the star performer from the club he ran showed up at my door with a gun pressed to my temple, demanding to take my place. Without flinching, I disarmed her using the technique he taught me and disposed of the body myself. Behind me, he held his new lover and laughed softly. "Lucia, you always know what to do." In the fifth year, he blew up the library my father left behind just to make his new flame, Marilena Rossetti, smile. That library was my mother's favorite spot when she was alive, and it held the only photographs of our family of three. The explosion made me the laughingstock of the city. People whispered, "Signora Calvetti can't even protect her own memories." Everyone believed I could never leave the Calvetti family or Domenico, but they forgot how this all started. Back then, he rescued me from my adoptive father and fell in love with me at first sight. He knelt and begged to marry me, swearing he would protect me from blood and pain for the rest of my life. For ten years, I held onto those empty words. At our tenth anniversary party, his hundredth mistress arrived. Alice Russo, fresh out of college, held a glass of red wine and poured it down my gown while Domenico watched. "Signora Calvetti, this dress is so old. Given your position, you should be wearing something better." Everyone at the party waited to see my humiliation. Instead, I lowered my eyes and dialed Domenico's father's number. "Father, the ten-year agreement is over. I won't be Signora Calvetti anymore."

The world snapped back into focus, the memories of my brutal end crashing into the present. I was back—right here, right now, the exact moment Jarrold Jameson was trying to hand me that obscenely expensive purse. In my past life, he'd had a nasty fight with his precious Cindy Mayford. To make her jealous, he decided to use me as his pawn. I'd been stupid enough to love him once, but my pride had revolted. I'd refused to be a stand-in. It didn't matter. He kept engineering "accidental" run-ins, crafting one public misunderstanding after another, all to get a reaction from Cindy. I had done nothing wrong. I gained nothing. But I became Cindy's enemy. Her jealousy festered until it turned lethal. She had me kidnapped. The men she hired left my body shattered and broken. And Jarrold? He held his sobbing darling close and whispered those unforgettable words, "She got what she deserved." In the end, they stepped right over what was left of me and walked off into their picture-perfect life. Now, staring into his smug face, a cold clarity settled over me. This time, everything would be different. I snatched the handbag from his grasp. "A present for me?" I asked, my voice sweet, a sharp, calculated smile on my lips. "I love it. But just so you know, for next time… I've always preferred the classic design from her family's brand. That's the one you should be buying me."

To save her first love, who suffered from uremia, my wife, who was a judge, used her influence to pressure the hospital into awarding one of my kidneys to him. I explained to my wife that I had kidney failure. Transplanting another kidney would mean certain death for me. However, my wife yelled at me in disgust, “His illness is serious, and you’re still acting jealous and competing for my attention? Do you even have a heart?” With the lawyer she hired, she won a court ruling that sent me to the hospital for the kidney transplant. In the end, my kidney failure worsened. I died alone in a forgotten corner of the hospital.

Rain was my mate's childhood sweetheart. When she found out I'd been exposed to wolfsbane as a child, she slipped a trace amount into my mushroom soup. The moment I swallowed it, a searing pain ripped through my chest. My powers drained away. My wolf howled inside me, thrashing in agony. Panicked, I grabbed my flask — years ago, my father had collected sacred spring water that could neutralize wolfsbane, just in case. But she had swapped that too. The flask was full of the same poisoned soup. The blood drained from my face. Every ounce of strength left my body. I collapsed, clinging to the leg of my mate, Liam. "Please — I've been poisoned. Wolfsbane. You have to help me — " Liam hesitated. But Rain crossed her arms and laughed. "Liam, your fiancée really is quite the actress. It's just mushroom soup. I've been a healer for years, and I've never seen anyone get poisoned from soup." The other werewolves piled on. "Cut the act! Nobody gets poisoned from mushroom soup." "She's just jealous that Rain became a healer. She wants to ruin the celebration." Liam's face went cold again. "Rain's a healer. If there was anything wrong with the soup, she'd know. You'll be fine." I stopped begging. I spent the last shred of my energy reaching through the mind-link to my father — Alpha Hale of the Granite Pack.

My boyfriend, Drew Myers, has proposed to me 99 times. Meanwhile, his childhood sweetheart, Tammy Fowler, has relapsed into depression 99 times. When Drew makes his 100th proposal, Tammy's depression strikes once more. As usual, he picks up Tammy's call, a gentle smile playing on his lips. With a tired sigh, he turns to me and says, "She's having another breakdown. We'll have to put the proposal on hold this time." Despite it being my birthday, Drew starts clearing away the freshly served dishes as if it were any other day. Fearing I might complain, he shoots me a cold, disapproving glance. "I know you're jealous of Tammy, but she's the one who's struggling. You're a soldier. You should be the bigger person and give her some leeway." Not only does Drew want me to eat Tammy's scraps, but he also orders me to bring them climbing gear at midnight. When Tammy shares intimate photos of them hugging online, his only reaction is to lash out at me. "Do you honestly find satisfaction in pushing Tammy to another breakdown? Is this the honor of a soldier? Your cruelty sickens me!" Over and over, he tears down my character and mocks my integrity. But this time, I simply look down at the special forces recruitment letter in my hand and say nothing. Drew remains oblivious. At last, I'm the one who's letting go.