Cheating Mature Novels & Stories

Maisie Stone has known Ethan Ford for 15 years. She's gone from being a young woman to a married one. She's also gone from being Ethan's true love to an old flame. He cheats on her repeatedly, and she forgives him every time. After a suicide attempt, Maisie finally sees the light. This rotten world is just a competition to see who can be more shameless than others. In an open relationship, both parties live their own lives. Since he's messing around with her sister, she can mess around with his friends and brothers.

When my four sons were finally old enough for preschool, I arrived at the school office with my marriage certificate and their birth certificates, ready to sign them up. But the lady at the counter frowned and said, "These documents don't check out. According to the system, your kids don't even exist." I felt as if the floor had dropped out from under me. I remembered when Sheldon Clem and I got married—he was the one who handled all the paperwork, the birth registrations, everything. I never imagined that when I tracked him down with our four boys, he'd be holding his childhood sweetheart in his arms, with her little girl snuggled against him. And then we heard him sweet-talking her right in front of us. "Don't be mad, babe. I've got everything set up for us overseas. Gigi is going to the most expensive private school, and you'll be living in the nicest penthouse downtown. "Sure, she gave me four sons, but all my love and money are with you. I only kept her around because I felt sorry for her. "What else do you need? My will's already signed. Everything goes to you and Gigi." Riley Anderson pouted, smug and satisfied. "If you don't love her, then she's the other woman, not me. She's got no right to fight me for anything!" So he never went bankrupt. When we got back home, Sheldon acted as if nothing had happened. "Honey, I've found this amazing project overseas, so I won't have time to come home much. I'll need you to hold down the fort at home." I smiled and nodded. "Sure, go ahead." If that was how he wanted to play this, then fine. I'd make sure he really went broke, and then I'd find my boys a new father.

As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight.

The Luna of the Silver Moon Pack is personally chosen by the Alpha. By tradition, candidates enter the Pack House for the annual Luna Trials, where the Alpha selects a winning dish. This was my ninth time participating. Alpha Fred chose Sophia’s undercooked venison again. The Elders glanced at my roast and told me to leave. I grabbed my bag and walked out. When I got home, my mother looked at me cautiously. "Chloe, did Alpha Fred choose you this time?" I stared at her teary eyes and the cold dinner. I had missed her birthday for nine consecutive years for these trials. Fred had sworn he loved me, an Omega. But ever since his ex, Sophia, returned, he chose her every time to protect her pride. Sophia had now been selected three times in a row. To the Pack, she was already the true Luna. And I no longer wanted to betray my mother for this unrequited love.

I’m getting married, but my CEO fiancé, whom I had been engaged to for ten years, had no idea. Thanks to his new personal maid, the man has no time to spare for me. The two of them always shadowed one another, and they might as well be sleeping in the same bed. My fiancé even bought a yacht and brought her to the Arctic to see the aurora when she was in a bad mood, completely forgetting that we were supposed to be picking out wedding gowns that day. I spent the entire day waiting in that bridal shop, waiting for a man who would never show up. So I called my dad, “I’m marrying someone else.”

My husband was not fully conscious from anaesthesia after waking up from surgery, and he started spouting nonsense. I laughed while recording his comical reaction, but while helping him into a chair, I paused when I heard him calling for his son. "Be a good boy, all right? Daddy is busy." My smile froze, and I was stunned. We had been DINKs for 10 years. When did he get a son? My hands trembled as I turned on his phone. It was the first time I was looking through his phone in our years of marriage. When I browsed the phone’s data, I found a private album filled with intimate photos of him with another woman and a child. It was a boy who looked very similar to him, and the timestamp on the photos indicated that the boy was three. All three of them were smiling happily, but their smiles hurt me. He had once told me with conviction that he hated kids and did not want to be tied down by family, which was why he convinced me to be a DINK. However, I now knew that he was not really sincere about being a DINK; he just did not want to have kids with me.

After three years of dating Nathan Foster, I thought I knew where we were headed. But he never proposed. Instead, he fell in love at first sight with my stepsister. His pursuit of her was bold and relentless, leaving no room for doubt. This time, I didn’t break down or wait around, hoping he’d return like before. I made a clean break. I threw away every gift he had given me, shredded the wedding dress I once secretly bought, and on his birthday, I left Riverdale behind. Just as I was about to board my flight, Nathan messaged me: “Where are you? Everyone’s waiting for you.” I smiled, didn’t bother replying, and blocked him on every channel. He had no idea that, two weeks earlier, I had accepted the proposal of my college senior, Eustace Cooper. When the plane landed in my new city, Eustace and I were ready to begin a new chapter of our lives together—as husband and wife.

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?"

I spend a decade as the woman behind Corey Larson. I help him save his company from the brink of bankruptcy and turn it into a public-listed company. He's on the cusp of success, and I'm about to propose to him. That's when he brings his childhood sweetheart into the picture to take my place. He thanks me for my decade of hard work. Then, he tells me I'm no longer a good fit for the company as it's about to embark on a new journey. I stare at him. I've loved him for ten years and given him my everything, but he brushes me off with a bank card. My blood turns to ice. The decade I've spent with him has ultimately gone down the drain. He doesn't seem to realize the consequences, though. Once I quit and leave, his company will cease to exist… just like my love for him.

"Hi there, I'd like to emigrate." Christina stood at the counter and handed over the neatly prepared documents to the clerk on the other side of the glass. The clerk quickly stamped each page. The red ink spread like tiny ripples on still water. Then, without looking up, he pulled out another form and passed it back to her. "Ma'am, your paperwork will be processed in fifteen days." Christina nodded, turned on her heel, and headed for the exit. But before she could step outside, whispers trailed after her. "Did I see that right? Mrs. Waldorf is applying for emigration? Did she have a squabble with Mr. Waldorf?" "Even if they argued, would it go this far? Mr. Waldorf practically worships her. What could possibly make her leave so decisively?" "Exactly. Five years ago, their wedding was the event of the century. Even someone like me, who barely goes online, heard about it. And three years ago, after her car accident, the blood bank ran out of stock. Mr. Waldorf ignored everyone's objections and nearly drained himself to save her. Then, just last year, when she disappeared for an hour, he mobilized every media outlet worldwide to find her. Now she's leaving without a word—won't that drive him insane?" The murmurs swirled and lingered, but Christina only smiled faintly. Her expression was calm, but her eyes darkened with a bitterness that deepened with every step. Yes, she thought. Everyone knew just how much Lucien Waldorf loved her.