Free Mistress

"Imagine how much nicer it would be if you were in these handcuffs, squirming, pleading, yet needing, beneath me." His words caused a stir in my pants and a whirlwind in my life. They provoked images in my mind I never would have thought of on my own. Neither would have imagined that I would touch myself to his words. The reasons are simple, One, he is in cuffs because I am a detective and he is a criminal. Two, I have a girlfriend, I am straight. Nothing can ever happen between us. Elijah Stone is a star detective, model in all his ways, and a model girlfriend that he isn't sexually attracted to. Until criminal Jesse Harding walks into his life, ruining everything and needing Elijah's protection. Now Elijah has to fight bad guys, and his traitorous body that only wants to drown in Jesse's chaos.

During the holiday, a hashtag related to honeymoon trips goes viral on social media. The topic is, "How are you planning to spend your honeymoon?" One of the threads that has the most replies reads, "I have to bring my mistress along, of course." "Wow! That's crazy. Can you teach us how to pull that off?" I frown as I scroll down the thread and find the reply. "There are a lot of poor, female backpackers these days. As long as the mistress acts pitiful enough, you can pull the wool over your wife's eyes. And just like that, a couple's haven will become a world of three. "My wife and I will be going on our honeymoon trip tomorrow. I'll give everyone live updates in this thread." Feeling disgusted, I close the thread. … The next day, my husband, Sean Clifford, and I meet a poor, female backpacker on the road. She has no car, money, or any suitcases with her. Sprawling herself across the windshield, she begs, "Can you give me a ride, sir? I have blisters all over my feet. I can't walk anymore."

Lily was the little sister of my fiancé’s best friend. She was a mistress to a mafia Don—a sugar daddy—until his wife found out, and the clip of Lily getting beaten up ended up on the local news. Yet, somehow, everyone thought the woman getting dragged on TV was me. People at work who never liked me jumped at the chance to pile on. One of them even pointed right at my face and called me shameless. I tried to explain, “My fiancé is Sam Johnson, the CEO of Johnson Group. He’s handsome and ranked third on the Forbes list. Why would I become a mistress to a sugar daddy?” However, no one believed me. If anything, they looked at me like I was even more pathetic. One coworker sneered and pointed to the TV. “You’re not just morally bankrupt; you’re a liar. The CEO’s fiancée? That’s not you.” The TV was playing a breaking news segment titled: First Appearance of Johnson Group CEO’s Fiancée. And there Sam was, arm in arm with Lily, officially announcing their relationship.

I had been married to Rick Clinton for five years, and we had tried every possible way to have a child, but nothing worked. Later, Rick’s mistress, his secretary, became pregnant. Rick proposed a divorce, but we couldn’t agree on the division of assets. The next day, I was murdered by my husband and his mistress. Reborn a week before my death, I looked at the test results in my hand that confirmed Rick’s Azoospermia and smiled.

On the day of my divorce, my ex-mother-in-law updates her social media with a photo. It's my husband's mistress' ultrasound—she's pregnant. Their friends and family congratulate her. Meanwhile, I share a premarital medical report. It belongs to her son, Owen Wade. It also clearly indicates he has congenital necrospermia. There's no way I'll want a man who can't have kids!

After Jacob Locke brings up breaking up with me once again, I don't wait for him to say anything else. I pack up my things and move out on my own, then quietly cut ties with our past. On the first day, I cancel the wedding planner I booked three years ago but kept delaying. On the second day, I turn off the automatic payments for his mother's treatment. I also politely refuse his sister when she reaches out for money. On the third day, I accept my superior's transfer proposal and get ready to settle down in a southern city. The moment I board the plane, I suddenly get curious. Without me, the free housekeeper who hasn't taken a break in the past decade and the always-on ATM, how will Jacob fare? How will he care for his paralyzed mother, deal with his vain sister, and face his precious junior who's the apple of his eye?

After I came back to life, the first thing I did was hand that five-carat diamond ring—yes, the one my husband gave me—to his mother. The very woman who spent years picking me apart like it was her favorite pastime. In my last life, that ring was a custom New Year's gift. He paid a ridiculous amount for it. I actually thought it meant something. One afternoon, I was out shopping when I walked right into a bridal party taking pictures. The bride glanced at my hand, saw the ring, and her entire expression changed. She stormed over and slapped me, accusing me of being a shameless mistress trying to steal her man. I stood there, completely stunned. She was wearing the exact same ring. Before I could explain, her friends grabbed me. They dragged me aside, tore my clothes, hit me, and stomped on my hand until I couldn't move my fingers. They carved the word "mistress" into my face and paraded me through the street like some kind of public disgrace. I died there on the pavement. When my husband finally appeared, he didn't fight for me. He just signed off on a settlement, as if my life were nothing more than a piece of paperwork. Widowed that morning, married to the bride by nightfall. His mother instantly welcomed the new woman, all because she was pregnant. And then I opened my eyes again… back on the very day he first placed that diamond ring in my hand.

My daughter accidentally scratched my husband's young mistress's face with her nails. For that, my husband had her fingers chopped off. Covered in blood, she came home seeking help, only to be assaulted by an intruder. I called my husband, crying, but his mistress's sweet voice answered the phone. "Stop using these lowly tricks to get Jack's attention. All you're doing is making him sick!" I begged my husband to take my call, but all I got in return was a barrage of insults. "Nothing is more important than Yvonne's face! I'm busy taking her to the hospital! I don't have time for your drama!" Later, my daughter's organs were removed by the intruder. Even in death, she was still tightly holding onto the birthday gift she had prepared for her father. My husband, a top lawyer, personally defended the criminal who assaulted our daughter. He let that man walk away scot-free after what he had done. On the day he celebrated his birthday with all our relatives, he finally knew that our daughter had died. He completely lost his mind.

When I discover that Shawn Felton has kept a mistress for the past three years and even intends to throw her a wedding, I decide to leave him. I'm going home to marry the man my family has picked for me. On the first day, I give the ring Shawn got me to his mistress. On the second day, I throw away everything and anything that has to do with me. On the third day, I put on a wedding dress and marry Shawn's nemesis. From now on, Shawn and I will have nothing to do with each other. Shawn is unfazed originally. He thinks I'm just throwing a tantrum. He only panics when he sees the news of me marrying someone else.

Five years ago, Suri ruptured her uterus pushing Bruce out of the path of a car. The injury left her unable to have kids. But Bruce didn't care—he still pushed for the wedding. After they got married, he poured nearly everything into her. Or so she thought. Then came the scandal. One of his business rivals leaked it, and just like that, the truth exploded online—Bruce had another woman. She was already over three months pregnant. That night, he dropped to his knees. "Suri, please. I'll fix it. I won't let her keep the baby..." And Suri? She forgave him. But on their fifth anniversary, she rushed to the hotel Bruce had reserved—only to find something else entirely. In the next room, Bruce sat beaming, surrounded by friends and family, celebrating that mistress's birthday. The smile on his face—pure joy. A smile she'd never once seen from him. That was the moment she knew. It was over. Time to go.