Mistress Eve Novels & Stories

Yvonne woke up finding herself inside a stranger's body the day she received a pen drive with the evidence of her husband's adulterous lifestyle behind her back. To add worse into the situation, she realized that she was into her husband's mistress's body who was already married to another person and had a child. Now, not only was she facing such a cruel joke, but also the person who her husband's mistress was married to, hated her existence. How will she face all the humiliation and overcome while trying to return to her own life that she carefully built? Will she fall in love with the mistress's husband instead?

The day after I gave birth to Alpha Albert’s pup, while our son was still fragile and my own wounds still fresh, he demanded I give up the Luna Suite. For his old flame, Chloe, and her unborn child. His reason? Chloe was close to her due date, and the suite’s unique moonlight energy was known to soothe expectant mothers and their pups. I stared at him in disbelief. "But that's the Luna's suite. And our son? Doesn't he need that energy?" Albert’s expression was hard as stone. "I owe her." His voice was ice. "If I hadn't been forced into this mating with you, she never would have married that abusive bastard out of spite. You're the Luna. A small sacrifice won't kill you." A small sacrifice. He’d used that excuse to hurt me countless times since our union. He missed our anniversary to play nursemaid to a sick Chloe. He forced me to give up my position as the pack's Head Healer for her… This time, I didn't scream or fight. I just looked at him, my voice eerily calm. "Fine. I'll move." Then I sent a message to my father, the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack: Father, come get me. I'm rejecting my mate bond with Albert.

When I arrived, I saw my husband sitting at a table with Nalani by his side. Was this supposed to be a meeting? Was he seriously introducing me to his mistress? I sat down quietly, my heart heavy. “Eden,” Liam began, his voice calm. “I hope you know why we’re here.” Nalani cut him off with a sharp tone. “Oh, just tell her already.” She looked straight at me, her words cold and deliberate. “I’m carrying Liam’s child, and we’re getting married as soon as possible.” The words hit me hard, but I refused to show how much it hurt. I glanced at Liam, hoping for some sign of remorse, but he just stared at the table. I stood slowly, clutching my purse. “You win,” I said softly. “I’ll sign the papers.”

On my way home, I saved a witch from a rogue attack. She thanked me with a small vial of potion, which would let me hear other people’s thoughts. That night, at the pack banquet, I heard my mate’s thoughts. ‘Serena just bought the sexiest lingerie. I need to find some excuse to ditch Aurora tonight.’ A second voice cut in, a woman’s. ‘She has no idea every time Lucian says he’s working late, he’s with me. We’ve slept together so many times now.’ ‘Once I’m pregnant with Lucian’s child, he’ll have every reason to break the mate bond with her. And when he becomes Alpha, I’ll be the Luna.’ I almost laughed out loud. What Serena didn’t know was that Lucian was the Alpha’s illegitimate son. He’d never inherit anything. I was already running through how to make them pay when another voice broke through. It came from the man standing next to Serena, the shabby boyfriend everyone in this pack looked down on. ‘How am I supposed to tell her I’m the heir to the Alpha King?’ My eyes went wide. I kept my face blank and walked straight up to him. “Hey. Mind if I get your number?”

In the two years after Bradley Vaughn's so-called "memory loss," we divorced seven times—all to keep his childhood crush Vivian Monroe happy. Number eight? Because Vivian got pregnant. "You can't have kids anyway. Once Vivian has the baby, we'll get back together. You can raise the kid." That was his usual ice-cold line as he slid the papers across the table. That night, he kicked me out—said Vivian got nauseous just seeing me. I moved into another house. Alone. In the rain. Even after I landed in the ER from a near assault, he didn't bother asking if I was okay. Then one day, I spotted him at a clinic with Vivian. He rubbed her belly and laughed, "So what if she finds out I faked the amnesia? She can't live without me. Toss her a bone, she'll come crawling." I looked away, steady. Then my phone buzzed. [How did your checkup go?]

I had once been the woman Theo Bennett would have risked his life to marry. For six years after our wedding, he treated me like his entire world. He even had a matching tattoo carved into his lower abdomen, identical to mine, as proof of his devotion. But in the seventh year, he coldly demanded that I make a full-body model for his kept woman. "Catherine," he said, his voice sharp with contempt, "this is the price you pay for lying to me about being my savior. You know my tastes better than anyone. Make sure you replicate Hannah's body temperature. She's pregnant. I don't want to hurt her." Hannah Moore lay limp in Theo's arms, laughing so hard her shoulders shook. "How pathetic, Catherine," she mocked. "I'm pregnant, so I can't be with Theo. And yet he'd rather order a model of me than lay a finger on you. Once this one wears out, I guess I'll have to trouble you to make a few more copies of me." Only then did I understand. Theo had mistaken Hannah for the woman who once saved his life. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I didn't argue. I simply turned around and dialed Sebastian's number. "Sebastian," I said calmly, "Theo is having an affair. I want a divorce."

I was a soldier's wife. Less than two years into our marriage, I asked Lucian Summers for a divorce because I found a little handmade bracelet at home. It was not mine, and Lucian had never bought me cute little trinkets like this before. Lucian scoffed and said, "All because of that little thing?" I could not be bothered to explain this time, so I replied coldly, "Yeah. It's exactly because of that little thing."

When I was five months pregnant, I was kidnapped by a group of thugs. They used my phone to call my brother, Jeremy Wirkola, and my husband, Grant Sanders, to demand a ransom of ten million, but no one answered. I was tortured and assaulted until I was barely alive. When I was finally rescued, Jeremy cried and promised to avenge me. Grant was in tears too. He vowed to get me treated. However, while under the haze of anesthesia, I overheard Grant's cold voice outside the door. “Jessie is waiting for a bone marrow, but don’t forget to remove Ashlyn’s uterus. Just tell her the injuries were too severe to save it. Oh, and get the best surgeon for her. She’s afraid of pain.” His assistant hesitated. He was clearly uncomfortable. “Mr. Sanders, isn’t this going too far?” Grant paused for a second before he replied firmly. “She refused to donate her bone marrow to Jessie and even used the baby as an excuse. She’s selfish. Besides, if we don’t do this, how can I bring back Jessie and our child into the family? As for Ashlyn, she’s my wife. I’ll make it up to her for the rest of my life. She used to bully Jessie with her status, which resulted in Jessie suffering from depression and almost killing herself. It’s time she paid the price for it.” As I listened to his heartless words, something inside me shattered completely. Since they had chosen to sacrifice me for Jessie, let them have what they wanted then.

The day I won the championship in the pro gaming league, my girlfriend, Nina Vale, said she was coming to bring me flowers. Standing on the awards stage, I pulled the ring from my pocket, thrilled and ready to propose to her in front of everyone. However, instead of handing the bouquet to me, she turned and placed the flowers into the hands of her childhood friend, Rowan Cross, who was standing beside me. The pairing of a handsome man and a beautiful woman sent countless fans across the internet into a frenzy, enthusiastically shipping them together and congratulating them. Rowan’s fans tagged me and mocked, "Classic simp. Seven years of licking boots, and you still end up with nothing. Did you congratulate Rowan and Nina yet?" I replied calmly, "Respect and blessings. Enjoy being locked in forever."

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"