Danielle Steel The Mistress Novels & Stories

“ Don't mention it. Who was that lady anyway? “ Curiously, Danielle made an intriguing look on her. “ That's Miss Celine. A famous fashion model who was dumped by our boss but she keeps on coming and try to make up with the boss. But the boss doesn't want to see her ever again. She's a vicious girl. If you know what I mean.” “ I see. So should I go inside and inform it to our boss about her coming?” Danielle asked for her approval. “ I guess you should go inform him. So that he'll know what to do.” Danielle nodded and knocked on the CEO's door. “ Who is it?” “ Sir, it's me. Danielle Artates. “

''Listen, Misty, why don't you call this a night, okay? ''Yes, sir, thank you.'' ''Mh hmm.'' Misty sized Danielle up and down, scoffed then walked away from us. I raked through my hair in frustration and walked passed Danielle without a welcoming. She followed me to my bedroom and immediately jumped in bed with her bra and panties out. ''Baby come here and join me,'' she whispered, touching her breasts making kissing noises. ''Not in the mood Dani,'' I replied, taking off my shirt and unzipped my pants.

She stayed longer than at any other window. When she finally stepped back, it was quick, sharp, almost like she was trying to escape herself. She didn’t look at me. She just moved forward, too fast, pretending it hadn’t happened. I let her pretend. The next window showed a dominatrix and her kneeling submissive. The man was collared, skin marked from recent strikes. Danielle tensed at that one. Her shoulders tightened. Her hands curled slightly, not from fear, not from judgment. Just confusion. She watched until the man kissed his mistress’s boot, and then she looked away quickly, moving on.

My voice was low, deliberate, the kind that left no room for games. Her eyes flicked up at me, steady but trembling beneath the surface. “You’ve made it clear, Renz. Rules. Control. No escape.” A smirk tugged at my lips. “Good." “You live by my terms now. Where you go, who you see, how you breathe—those are mine to dictate. You belong to me.” Her jaw tightened, but she said nothing. A flicker of defiance, quickly buried. “And as my mistress,” I leaned forward, resting the glass down with a soft thud, “we start with the first thing that matters—”

She then said, "I am Danielle, but you will call me 'mistress.'" Angela quickly corrected herself and said, "Yes, mistress." Danielle then walk towards the bed and trailed her fingers over the soft skin of Angela's olive colored thigh. Angela was able to keep herself totally still and not shiver or balk from her mistress's touch. She kept her head bowed, as Danielle continued to run her fingers admiringly over her skin.. Danielle then said, "My mother said your name is Angela. Is that correct?" Angela nodded as she said, "Yes, mistress."

The guy stood and moved to the equipment and started scanning. “No mistakes,” I added. “I want it fast.” Bull nodded again, more firmly this time. “You’ll have it.” I walked to the bar, poured myself two fingers of whiskey, and didn’t sit. She was playing a game she didn’t understand, and that was the part that made me angriest. This wasn’t about rebellion or freedom. This was about control. Mine. And she had slipped out of it again. My phone rang. Dante. This time, I answered with steel in my voice. “Talk to me. Do you have her?”

Apparently, none of that mattered when your ex-mistress was you and your ex-lover was Julian Thorne, billionaire tech mogul and emotional black hole in a three-piece suit. “You signed the Mistress Clause, Camille.” “I burned it.” He tilted his head, like a predator mildly entertained by its prey. “Clause Sixteen,” he murmured. “What the hell is Clause Sixteen?” Julian stepped in close, so close I could feel his breath—cool, sharp like mint and menace. “If the mistress attempts to leave, emotionally manipulate, or engage another man, the beneficiary of the agreement has the right to reclaim control by any means necessary.” I gasped. “You’re not serious—”

I realized then that if I didn't clarify things today, I would forever be branded a mistress. "You say Harlan is your dad; is your mom named Doris Dewey?" Jennifer laughed arrogantly. "So, you're finally admitting to being the mistress?" "Let's call them both over and settle this once and for all. Then we'll know who the mistress is and who the disgraceful illegitimate daughter is!"

I hoped I could get him to delay announcing the Royal Games until I could get comfortable in my new life. Danielle ushered me out of my room and onto another floor with long corridors. All the while, two guards were trailing behind us. “How long have you been working here?” I asked Danielle as we made our way to the King. “All my life.” She replied. “What I mean is, my whole life revolves around this place. My mother is an assistant to the Palace Mistress or what the commoners call a butler. So I knew the ins and outs of the palace even before I was given the rank of a handmaid.”

That word from him seemed to drop like a bomb and sent the room into chaos. Briannna charged forward, grabbed his arm, and questioned him. "And you claim that she isn't your side chick, Spencer? Will you continue denying now that things have come to this?" Her eyes were reddened, and she looked as though she was trying her best to put on a strong front despite having been wronged. "Between me and her, there can only be one. You must make your choice today!" Her friends backed her up, saying, "That's right! You might be the CEO of a large corporation, but that doesn't mean that you can have a mistress!"