Mistress Discord

One immigration application ended my marriage— and erased me from my husband’s world forever. I was Arabella Ashford— the wife of the man everyone wanted to marry. An Italian mafia heir—Born into power, wealth, and fear. A bloodline successor watched by international law enforcement, forbidden to cross borders, permanently barred from U.S. territory. They said he adored me— built me a private estate so I’d never hear the city, sent me flowers for no reason, just to make me smile, remembered every little thing I liked, every habit and quirk, No one saw the truth. And while the world called him perfect— he was putting another woman in my place, and another life in her womb. So I made my choice. I filed for permanent residency overseas. With that one signature, I erased myself from his world. From that moment on, he would never find me again. This was the price of his betrayal. He didn’t realize I was losing him that day. When he discovered the woman he betrayed was already beyond his reach. That was when he lost everything. He gave up his position. Walked away from his inheritance. Turned his back on a throne men would kill for— all to cross an ocean he was never allowed to enter.

Before my crazy grandmother died, she gave me three walnuts. According to her last wish, I cracked open the first walnut on my twenty-fifth birthday. Inside the walnut was a slip of paper. 'Go to the skybridge and grovel at the first beggar you meet' was the instruction written on it. When I looked at the note, I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Still, I did as told. To my surprise, the beggar turned out to be an undercover cop. Only later did I learn that I had long been targeted by human traffickers, and the bow had saved my life. As for the second walnut, my grandmother told me to crack it open before I got married. When I put on my wedding dress, ready to marry the policeman who saved me, I happily opened it. This time, there was a crumpled old photograph inside. In the photo, my fiancé was smiling as he strangled another bride.

While my boyfriend, Caleb Lawson, is in the shower, I grab his phone on a whim and drop a message in the group chat he's in with his friends. "Guess who I'm with tonight." I expect them to say my name, but their reply blindsides me. "That freshman who used to chase you when you were a sophomore? She's obsessed with you. She's definitely easier than your girlfriend. Want us to swing by tonight?" My gut tells me he's hiding more than an affair. Just as I start scrolling through his messages with the freshman, a notification from her pops up. "Caleb, I agree to the threesome. I'll do anything you want." Seconds later, another message appears in the group chat. "Just be careful this time. We don't need another body on our hands."

A month before I was set to present my life’s work—the Moonlight Therapy—Marcus, my Alpha and fiancé of five years, asked me to give the entire research project to his old flame, Isabella. I refused. He spent the entire month trying to convince me, insisting he was only fulfilling her dying wish. Then, two weeks before the presentation, a link from a friend arrived. That’s when I discovered Isabella was already promoting my research online as her own. He had never intended to ask for my permission at all. In that instant, I chose to sever our five-year bond. What Marcus didn’t know was that the core research he’d stolen was critically flawed. On the very day Isabella presented that faulty data to the world, I walked through the doors of the Boston Werewolf Medical Institute instead. I never looked back.

Winona Warren never imagined that on her birthday, her son would hand her a walnut cake that could kill her. As her consciousness began to blur, she heard Asher Rhodes' furious voice. "Carter, don't you know your mother is allergic to walnuts?" Carter Rhodes' childish voice rang out with startling clarity. "I do. But I want Ella to be my mom instead. Dad, you want that too, don't you? Even if I..." A crushing wave of suffocation overwhelmed Winona before she could hear the rest of Asher's answer. In the second before she completely lost consciousness, Winona had only one thought. If she woke up, she would never be Asher's wife or Carter's mother again.

With a bag of vegetables gifted by the previous tenant in hand, I was on my way to collect rent from the third household when I unexpectedly ran into someone at the entrance of the community. The man frowned, his eyes fixed on the vegetables I carried, as though he couldn't fathom how I had ended up like this after leaving him. Following his gaze, I instinctively shifted the vegetables behind my back. My eyes dropped to the muddy water on the pavement, and I never would have imagined bumping into my ex-boyfriend—the one who had grown up with a silver spoon—in this aging neighborhood. He noticed my movement, and for a moment, something flickered in his expression: a mix of pity and recognition. "Since you've already learned your lesson," he said, "come back with me." At his words, I instinctively stepped back half a pace. "Who said I'm going back with you?" My rejection seemed to sting, darkening his face. "I know you're still blaming me for giving Rachel a child," he muttered, "but it's been three years. Isn't it time to stop? As long as you come back, we can be the same as before." Three years, huh? How quickly time had passed. Thinking of my little girl at home, still babbling her first words, I couldn't help but smile and shake my head. "Let's leave it at that. Go home and live your life with Rachel. My daughter's waiting for me to go back and make her food."

Joseph Larkin, my husband, who has been missing for seven years, suddenly comes back. Not only does he bring another woman back, but he is also asking me for a divorce. Joseph says, "Mabel risked her life to save me. That's why I have to marry her to repay her. If you know what's good for you, you'll tell everyone we're already divorced." Looking at his haughty expression, I calmly say, "But I've already married someone else." Joseph laughs disdainfully. "Who are you trying to fool? Everyone knows you only have eyes for me."

Before the flight takes off, my fiance, the pilot, boards the plane with a suitcase. He says it's a gift from his childhood sweetheart and warns me not to touch it. I can't shake the uneasy feeling creeping into my heart, so I sneak inside. To my shock, I find high-risk contraband hidden in the luggage. I report it immediately and use my commendation to cover for Edward's mistake and save his career. However, his precious childhood sweetheart is arrested, detained, and sentenced. He doesn't say a word after the incident. However, during another flight, he cuts the cord to my parachute. "Jade, I know you're jealous of Cindy! You sabotaged her during her flight attendant training and framed her afterward! Do you think this will make me love you? Dream on! I would never marry a petty woman like you!" I plunge from ten thousand meters above the ground, leaving nothing but blood and broken bones behind. When I open my eyes again, I see Cindy sending Edward off, and he's carrying the same suitcase. I quietly step back and decide I won't save him this time.

I supported Ethan Mitchell and loved him for eight whole years. I thought I concealed my feelings well, but little did I know that after Ethan became a business magnate, the first thing he did was send me to a ladies’ finishing academy. He looked at me coldly, his arms wrapped around his fiancée. "When you've rid yourself of those filthy thoughts, then you can come out." A year later, I finally forgot him completely. However, Ethan came to regret everything.

On the fifth year of their marriage, finding the vitamin C her husband bought tasted too bitter, Jeanne Dotson went to the hospital with the bottle. The doctor took one look and frowned. "This isn't vitamin C." "I-I'm sorry, Doctor?" "I could say it a dozen times and it'd still be the same," the doctor replied, pointing at the bottle. "This is Mifepristone. Taking too much of it doesn't just cause infertility—it can do serious harm to your body." Jeanne felt a lump stuck in her throat, and her fingers turned pale from clenching the bottle. "That's impossible. My husband got this for me. His name is Darren Walsh—he's a doctor here too." The doctor looked up at her, his expression turning strange, tinged with something she couldn't quite read. After a pause, he gave a small smile. "Miss, you might want to visit the psych ward instead. We all know Dr. Walsh's wife—she gave birth just two months ago. Don't let your imagination run wild, all right? There's no point."