Mistress

At my engagement party, my cousin drugged herself and tearfully begged me to lend her my fiance for one night, so I sent the Eastons' youngest son, who had always had a thing for her, on her way. When Erin woke up and realized it wasn't my fiance, she killed herself out of shame and despair. My fiance didn't blame me; he treated me as he always had. Ridden with guilt, I took care of Erin's mother after her death. But on my wedding day, my groom turned husband had me drugged and threw me to beggars. "Erin suffered like this back then," he said coldly. "You can atone for her pain with that filthy body of yours." And so, on my wedding night, I was violated to death—with a baby in my belly. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to that night when Erin tearfully begged me to give my fiance to her.

After my 99th failed confession of love to Jim, my parents grounded me for two weeks. "You've embarrassed yourself enough over that illegitimate son from the Larson family," they snapped. "Has he ever even spared you a proper glance?" "Stay home and reflect. We've already arranged your marriage to the Shaw family. The wedding will be in two weeks." However, I didn’t give up. I was so determined to see Jim, no matter what. Only to walk in on him locked in a deep kiss with his precious first love in a private room. "Jim, you really know how to play," one of his friends laughed. "If the Cunningham family's heiress catches you like this, she'll probably lose her mind again." "Seriously, you've turned Ella down so many times, and now that she's grounded, you haven't even sent her a message. Aren't you afraid she'll finally give up on you?" Jim just scoffed with disdain and said calmly, "What's there to be afraid of? Everyone in the capital knows Ella is obsessed with me. Who else would want her but me?" "If I hadn't needed her to get back into the Larson family, I never would've postponed my engagement to Rowena in the first place."

I was finally pregnant with his child after being married to Grady Winters for five years. I planned to share the wonderful news with him in person, but on that fateful day, I encountered his first love, who had just returned from abroad. She scalded me with soup, spilling it across me before shoving me down the stairs. Curled up and fighting through the piercing pain in my abdomen, I heard her cold, mocking laughter from above. "Who do you think you are to be Mrs. Winters? I've seen plenty of women who are social climbers." Then, she turned to Grady, her voice laced with pride. She playfully pouted, asking, "Didn't I do a good job, Grady? Don't you think you should reward me as well?"

After being married to Nathan Baldwin for five years, news of him making a home for a young woman in a hotel gets out. The whole world knows of her existence. He doesn't want her to be known as a mistress, so he comes to me with a divorce agreement. "Mr. Price helped me in the past. He asked me to take care of Jenny before his death. I can't not do anything now that everyone thinks she's a homewrecker." I'm not surprised—Jenny Price has always been his first choice for the past five years. When Nathan came to me about this in my past life, I broke down and had a screaming match with him. I refused to get a divorce. Even after I became severely depressed, he doggedly believed I was merely putting on an act because Jenny said I didn't look like I was sick. He thought I was pulling tricks to avoid the divorce and lured me into a trap. He made it seem like I was the one having an extramarital affair. Then, he took me to court to have the divorce enforced. Only then did I understand that I would never compare to the debt he thought he owed Jenny's father. I took my life in a moment of despair. When I open my eyes again, I don't hesitate to sign the divorce agreement.

I've been married to the prince of the underworld for ten years and have endured countless life-or-death situations by his side. My hands, once trained to play the piano, are covered in calluses from holding guns and stained with blood. But at 28, my husband ends up falling for a young woman from the slums. She's as delicate and pure as a chamomile. She's his well-kept little secret—until I run into them at the woman's prenatal appointment one day. I storm up to him, demanding an explanation, only for him to nonchalantly hand me divorce papers. "Sonia is a devout follower of the church and can't have a child before marriage. I must make an honest woman out of her. Sign these, and you'll get 40% of the company's shares." I refuse to do as told, so he corners me. In the end, he has my crippled younger brother tied up and forced under a hydraulic compression machine. "Sign the papers, Maeve, or watch your brother become a human mince pie. The choice is yours." I fall on my knees and beg him to stop. As the machine turns on, my hands fly to my aching lower belly, and I scream as I lose consciousness. When I wake up again, I'm back in the hospital, in the same spot where I ran into my husband and his mistress at her prenatal appointment. This time, I don't confront him. Overnight, I make arrangements with a sanatorium abroad, get divorced, and run away from home. Yet the moment I truly disappear, my husband loses his mind.

Everyone knew I, Isabella Marino, was Vince Moretti's greatest weakness—the one thing the mafia boss would never tolerate being touched. Years ago, when I was kidnapped, Vince disarmed himself at gunpoint, risking death to get me back, even paying his entire fortune for my ransom. To keep me from harm, he walked a razor's edge, navigating danger at every turn. After I got pregnant, he waited on me hand and foot, barely letting my feet touch the ground. There were rumors that he kept a pampered mistress outside—some woman he spoiled rotten. I never believed them. But then she flaunted herself in front of me. To beg for my forgiveness, Vince cut off his own finger. The next day, that woman slapped her pregnancy test results in my face, sneering, "Vince wanted a baby with me so badly, he just couldn't help himself!" I was already frail. The shock and rage sent me into a miscarriage.

On the day of the company's annual gala, my CEO husband suddenly assigned me an unexpected business trip. The plane had barely touched down when I received a call from his young assistant. Before I could utter a word, her voice came through, "Matty, did you send Daphne on that business trip just so we could spend more time together?" And then, as if to hammer the nail deeper into my heart, I heard his unmistakable tone—light, indulgent, full of affection, "What do you think, silly girl?" Her laughter rang out before she teased, "Then tonight, let's try something new. I promise you'll be satisfied..." The call ended amidst a swirl of suggestive murmurs. Staring at my phone, I waged a silent war with the pain gripping my chest. Again and again, I dialed his number, each attempt met with either silence or the cruel finality of his phone being switched off. Finally, I let out a bitter laugh, tucking the phone away as if to bury the wound it carried. From that moment on, I resolved—no more questions, no more efforts to understand this man who had once been my whole world. But fate has its own irony. Later, it was he who came back, pleading, begging me to love him again.

Seavora City, Carmoria. Nathan Ziegler's side chick, Sophie, was melting down—again. He shoved the divorce papers at me. "Just sign. It's for show. Gotta keep her calm." I clutched my dress, gave a small nod, and signed. No fuss. No scene. As I turned to leave, one of his buddies snorted, "Joelle's way too obedient. Bet she'd fetch the divorce decree if you asked." Nathan lit a cigarette, smirking. "Wanna bet?" To them, I was still the silent pushover. The girl who'd cry in court but still do what she's told. Trade one paper for another—marriage for divorce. I stared at my phone. The message I'd received earlier: [Why don't you just marry me?] I typed back: [Okay.]

My name was Natalia Granger. My husband, Andrew Lane, was a CEO, but he didn't love me or our son, Carl Lane. In order to spend time with his first love, Jennifer Zink, and her child, Jordan, Andrew would give one piece of candy to Carl before leaving. He promised he would return once Carl collected 100 candy wrappers. … Yet, when Carl finally gathered 100 candy wrappers, Andrew dumped him by the side of a highway instead. It was all because of another child's birthday party. Panicking, I searched everywhere for Carl. By the time I found him, he had become mute due to the trauma. However, Andrew only commented flippantly, "Jenny and Jordan didn't mean it. Can't you two be more magnanimous?" Eventually, Carl no longer became sad when Andrew left, nor did he hold out hope for Andrew's return. Instead, he simply wanted to return the candy wrappers to Andrew while also leaving a note that read, "Daddy, I don't want you to come back anymore, but could you return my voice to me?"

When my fiance's childhood sweetheart, Jenna Gray, gets assigned to a rural work program, he, Austin Bell, volunteers to go with her for three years. Before leaving, he holds my hand and tells me a promise. "Save up while I'm gone and build our wedding fund. We'll get married as soon as I come back." Save up my ass. The moment he leaves, I start living my best life. A year later, Austin, who's supposed to be miles away in some rural village, shows up at our door with Jenna in tow. They're here to ask for money. What he sees when he walks through the door is me, eight months pregnant, lounging on the couch and watching TV. His hands tremble as he points at my pregnant belly. "I've been away for a year… How are you pregnant?" "You're early. If you'd stuck to the plan and come back by then, the kid would already be old enough to run errands."