Mistress Ember Novels & Stories

“It would be a shame if you did. I’ve gone through a great deal of trouble to arrange tonight.” Her stomach twisted. She hadn’t forgotten. The ink on that cursed contract had barely dried. She was his mistress now — for one year, bound to him by her own desperate choice. It was a deal she’d thought she could handle. A deal of survival. But the reality of it was finally sinking in. This wasn’t a job. This was Ethan Blackwood. The car slowed, pulling up to the private entrance of a luxury high-rise. The doorman immediately stepped forward, opening the sleek black door with a bow. Ethan exited first, extending a hand back toward her. For a moment, she hesitated. Then she placed her trembling fi

Ember. The woman moved through the space with a kind of haughty confidence, her eyes scanning everything in sight. There was an unsettling air about her—something that blended arrogance with underlying insecurity. It was like watching a storm roll in, always on the verge of breaking, and Bella couldn't help but wonder how long it would take before Ember’s volatility exploded again.

Emily raised a brow but remained silent. “Justin loves me,” Emma declared proudly. “We’ve known each other since college. You’re nothing but a stand-in he used while I wasn’t around. You’re just a replacement to fulfill his needs. A plaything.” Her words dripped with arrogance, her laughter biting. “Let me give you a word of advice. A woman’s youth is fleeting. Why waste it being someone’s toy?” Leaning closer, she added maliciously, “Women who stoop to being someone’s mistress never end well.”

“So I do wonder how I’m going to pay for it.” “It’s mine, actually.” Ember placed a dish on the table and went back into the kitchen. “I was bored and I did a little purchasing spree.” I raised my eyebrow at her. “With…apartments?” “Not just. I did some bigger properties, stocks, businesses. I’ve been bored and I don’t think needlepoint is really me. Despite being told that I am not the best Luna material, I sure have shoved those words in those rich she-wolves faces.” Ember put down another plate before the timer went off on the oven. “Especially when they realize I can kick their families off my property for no reason other than they pissed me off.”

I wiped away my tears but they were replaced immediately. "Why, Kalvis? What did you mean?" "You're pathetic, Veronica. Daddy picked someone up at the airport." "W-What? Who?" "It's Ember, a beautiful and sophisticated woman. A woman with a substance and not a whiney girl like you.." My knees are shaking. Even my hands trembled because of what Kalvis said. Ember? Who is Ember? I couldn't stop shaking because of what Kalvis said. I want to see and talk to Marcov right now so I can confirm what happened…if his son was telling the truth.

"Okay, Mommy!" The night arrived, Nerissa received a message from Mateo that he'll be go home late already because of the sudden meeting with one of the investors from abroad, and she got that opportunity to stitch her lies again in Amara's mind about Isabella. In Amara's room, Nerissa closed the door and walked towards Amara who's coloring some books. She softly touched Amara's hair and started, "Baby...Do you still wanna know who's the woman earlier?" Amara's attention immediately snapped up from her coloring and turn her head to look at her mother.

In that case, all bets would be off. . . . . . THE END . . . . . Ember Casey is a USA Today bestselling author who writes books about wicked billionaires, Hollywood bad boys, playboy princes, and rugged adventurers. The other stories in her bestselling Fontaines of Hollywood series include The Lies Between the Lines (Luca's story!), The Secret to Seduction, The Mystery of You, and the Thrill of Temptation.

Irene was pouring water into glasses. Drew sat down, observing Erica. Erica's fingers were elegant, with well-manicured nails, and her skin was flawless and radiant even without heavy makeup. Her slender yet slightly curvy figure, almost 170 cm tall, made her look like a model straight out of a TV commercial. Erica also had a pleasant scent, her expensive perfume filling the room with its fragrance.

“Your name?” I composed myself and gripped my skirt, trying not to run to the door. “I’m…” I trailed off and glanced at the folders on the floor before looking at him again. “Amity Escobar.” He turned his eyes to his desk before spinning himself around to face the floor-to-ceiling window. “The famous teacher,” he stated. “I was thinking of you, Ms. Escobar.” My hands started to get sweaty. “What you look like…and how beautiful you are to be the talk of the town,” he continued.