Mature Mistress

For five years I had been the lover of my best friend’s little brother… and I found out that he was only using me for practice!

Eight years after I broke up with Greyson Tromp, we met in the hospital. He brought his wife for a prenatal checkup and happened to have their consultation with me. I wore a mask and carefully examined the condition of her baby. The intern beside us asked how they ended up together. Elise Jacob said smugly, "You have to fight for a handsome guy. To get the best, you have to fight for it! He used to like someone else. To win his heart, I stirred up trouble between them, causing them to misunderstand each other and gradually drift apart. "Later, they had a really bad argument, and I hid the apology letter he asked me to pass on to that woman. I still keep it as our token of love. That woman was pregnant at the time, and I used every means to get rid of her baby!" After they left, I removed my mask. My hands instinctively rested on my stomach. There was an ugly scar beneath my clothes. It was from when Greyson forced me to abort our baby. A few days later, Greyson came kneeling before me, holding that apology letter and a divorce agreement.

Everyone in the upper crust knows that I love Sasha Ramirez more than anything in the world. For many years, I have done everything for her silently. When her mother was sick, I secretly hired all the most famous doctors all over the nation just so they could cure her. When she started her own company, I invested large amounts of money in order to pave her path to success. Whenever I came across something nice, I'd always present it to her on a silver platter. We've been married for 12 years. I've always believed that my love will eventually make her feel moved. But what I don't expect is that Sasha has been cheating on me with her male secretary, Gavin Shaw, behind my back. When I see an ultrasound scan of Sasha's pregnancy, as well as countless couple photos that Gavin has sent to me, I feel my heart breaking. Instead of kicking up a fuss, I calmly call for a shareholders' meeting and dismiss Sasha from her position as the CEO. I want her to understand that she's nothing without me.

On our first wedding anniversary, I took the day off from work and left early, only to find that my wife had probably cheated on me. One day I arrived at home, I found a shocking display where my wife was engaging in some intense activities…

My partner, Derek Crawford, calls himself a traditional man. On our tenth anniversary, I bought him a pair of his favorite AJ sneakers. Instead, he gifted me a bag of pastries. "Your cake is extremely tiny, and yet it costs you a few dozen dollars! Look at the pastries I got you—not only are they cheap, but they are also huge in quantity! Now this is what I call worth it!" After that, Derek tells me that he'll make it up to me by throwing an engagement party. He has also invited my parents and my relatives to the party. With anticipation brimming in our eyes, we arrive at the restaurant, only to see Derek serving us with store-bought pickles and dinner rolls. "I'm a traditional man, you see. I'm not used to fancy food and foreign cuisines. This, right here, is the basics of a traditional dinner. You don't see patriotic men like me nowadays!" My relatives' expressions change drastically on the spot. Meanwhile, my parents look very mortified. I can only smile awkwardly at them while doing everything I can to stop them from leaving. But as soon as I leave the hotel, I receive a notification from the bank that 200 thousand dollars have been deducted from my account via a supplementary card linked to it. At the same time, Derek's childhood sweetheart, Renee Young, posts a photo of her 12-layered luxurious cake on her social media account. "When I told Derek that I wanted to celebrate my birthday, not only did he buy me the most expensive strawberry cake, but he also reserved a dozen or so tables that are served with the grandest feast! "If your man loves you that much, he won't need any lessons in pampering you! Traditional men definitely know how to love and pamper their queens!" I tighten my grip on my phone. As I look back at Derek, who keeps claiming that he's a traditional man stuck to his traditional ways, I suddenly find it exhausting to continue being in a relationship with him.

Before Mom's surgery, Mason—yeah, the Mason Leonhart from one of Brighton's big-name families—suddenly "had" to go on a business trip and couldn't be at the hospital. A few hours later, Judy Yeager blasted a video on social. There was Mason, Mr. Born-With-A-Silver-Spoon, recycling bottles with her. Caption: [If we work hard together, no hardship can scare us.] I couldn't resist. [Future Leonhart heir, worth ten billion, still helping his girl recycle bottles to trade in for cash—heartwarming.] It vanished in seconds. My phone lit up. Mason's voice? Ice cold. "Shiloh Harrington, what was that? Call Judy. Tell her you were joking." I laughed. "Keep playing your little poor-boy cosplay without me." Hung up. Three days till the divorce cooling-off ended. Then Mason could be the broke man he was pretending to be.

I waited for my fiancé, Charlie Boyd, to arrive for the wedding, but the one who pushed the door open was Conrad Parker, the deranged son of his family’s chauffeur. Amid the crowd’s mocking laughter, Charlie’s elegant secretary, Crystal Henderson, covered her mouth and said with a smirk, “Your future husband has come to pick you up. Shouldn’t you hurry off and marry him?” “As for Mr. Boyd, I’ll make sure to keep him company today.” Just then, Charlie strolled to the doorway with practiced nonchalance. “It was just a prank. Why the sour face? “That idiot is nothing but a lunatic. Just treat it like a childish game of make-believe.” I met the amused gleam in his eyes and said calmly, “He came wearing a groom’s suit to pick up his bride—how could that be a game?” “If we are marrying, then let it be a real ceremony.”

Five years after our breakup, I saw my ex-fiancé, Nico Luciano, showing off his newborn on social media. The next day, he cornered me at a private club and slid a black card across the table. “Lena, Sophia finally had a boy, the heir to the Luciano family. Now I can marry you.” He tried to soften his tone. “Having been widowed to my late brother for five years, she just wanted a child to care for her. I had no choice after the first two were girls. “Thank you for waiting these extra two years. The wedding is set for next Monday, and the invitations are ready.” What he didn’t know was that I was already married. I am now the lawful wife of Vincent Moretti, the don of the North Alumcian Mafia Commission, and a core decision-maker of the Moretti family’s financial empire. Watching Nico’s confident smile, I sent a message to my underboss. “Notify the elders of the five major mafia families. Next Monday, I’m removing the Luciano family from power.” Then I looked up and smiled at him. “Marry me? Save your own career first.”

Bunso sa magkapatid si Carmelita. Madali sana ang buhay niya dahil nakapagtapos na ng pag-aaral sila at tanggap na ang kanilang pamilya sa kanyang lolo at lola, pero habang na sa sinapupunan palang si Carmelita may marka na ng isang sumpa ang kanyang pagkatao. Sa edad na labing-walo tatalab ang sumpa. Sumpa na makakabago ng paningin ng ibang tao sa kanya at ang kanyang paningin sa sarili. "Carmelita, Ganyan na ba talaga ang tingin mo sa akin? Do I look that desperate for a child?"

Run, Run, RUN. Don’t stop. The night was falling and like the creatures of the day, I needed to hide. My heart is thundering in my chest, echoing the sounds of the war that rage from the fields of my once loved home. That was before the coven came. Surprising us and taking my home and pack. The attack happened so quickly that no one was ready. We had no warning and after hours of waiting I was found. I had to run. Don't stop running. “CRACK” the current of magic shoots by and hits the tree to my left, my bare feet crunching the earth hard and fast. My small heart fluttering faster than a hummingbird's wings, my once sparkling beautiful dress is no more. It’s tattered, dirty, and torn. The edges burnt to a crisp and coated in blood from bodies of the battlefield that I raced away from. “Come here little wolfie,” a harsh raspy voice calls out cutting through the trees I hide quickly behind a tree to take cover to breathe, “I just want a little chat!” He calls singsong like, taunting me. He wants to find me to kill me. Ducking further behind my tree I hold my breath, my young body shaking with so much force my bones ache. Holding my breath and closing my eyes hoping for safety that surely won’t come. At only 11 years of age, I can’t fight this grown warlock... he will surely kill me like he did my parents... “Wolfie princess, where are you?” He mimics the rhythm of a child’s tune, as if I’d listen. Closing my eyes tighter I don’t want to die. I’m too young. My mind is racing, and my hearts bound t....