Mistress

This was the sixth time Dante Falcone had slammed that damned divorce agreement down in front of me, forcing me to sign. This time, I did not resist. He set down the pen. In that instant, a suffocating silence filled the room. His deep brown eyes locked onto me, sharp and probing, as if he were trying to see straight through my soul. "Why so obedient this time, Sofia? Or are you planning another trick? Don't forget who you are. Mrs. Falcone." I removed the ruby ring that symbolized the mistress of the family, the one he had placed on my finger when he proposed to me in Sicily. I set it gently on the desk, a surface stained with both blood and money. My voice was calm, lifeless. "No, Dante. I'm just... tired. Your world is too loud."

When I was eight months pregnant, my Beta mate Derek's mistress offended the Alpha and was sentenced to three months in silver prison. Derek wanted me to serve her time. I stared at him in disbelief. "I'm carrying our child. How can I go to prison? What if something happens to the baby—" He roughly cut me off. "It's just three months, isn't it? Your wolf is so strong, but Sophia is just an Omega. Could you really bear to watch her die?" He forcibly threw me into prison to take punishment for his precious Sophia, where I was whipped with silver chains. Through this ordeal, my wolf nearly died. That day, I had a lot of bleeding during childbirth and almost went into shock. Meanwhile, the photos of him in bed with his mistress spread all over the pack. When Derek’s brother Ethan, who had a crush on me for many years, rushed to the hospital, my voice was eerily calm. "You are right. Derek is not worthy of being my mate. You promised me that once I gave birth to the child, you would help me leave. I want to break my mate bond with Derek."

Five years ago, Suri ruptured her uterus pushing Bruce out of the path of a car. The injury left her unable to have kids. But Bruce didn't care—he still pushed for the wedding. After they got married, he poured nearly everything into her. Or so she thought. Then came the scandal. One of his business rivals leaked it, and just like that, the truth exploded online—Bruce had another woman. She was already over three months pregnant. That night, he dropped to his knees. "Suri, please. I'll fix it. I won't let her keep the baby..." And Suri? She forgave him. But on their fifth anniversary, she rushed to the hotel Bruce had reserved—only to find something else entirely. In the next room, Bruce sat beaming, surrounded by friends and family, celebrating that mistress's birthday. The smile on his face—pure joy. A smile she'd never once seen from him. That was the moment she knew. It was over. Time to go.

At Sullivan Group's annual banquet, a female university student approaches Peter Sullivan and offers herself to him. The usually cold and distant Peter suddenly freezes because this young woman looks exactly like his deceased first love. He can't help but tease, "You're asking to be my mistress in front of my wife. Are you so sure you won't be thrown out?" The young lady lifts her chin, and her stubborn expression is identical to that of his lost love. "You two got married for business reasons and mutual benefits. Does she have any say over what you do? Peter, only you can save my mom. Will you do it or not?" She's right. I'm just a pawn in a marriage of convenience. How could I possibly influence Peter's choices? But then, I catch a glint of tenderness in his eyes that I've never seen before, and a self-deprecating smile forms on my lips. Maybe, instead of clinging on and being thrown out like trash, it's better if I give up my place willingly.

Soon after I came back to the country, someone slapped me right across the face in broad daylight, yelling that I was a mistress. A crowd of reporters closed in, pelting me with questions about whether Chandler Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong Industries, was keeping me as his mistress. I was stunned speechless for a moment, but then I pulled out my wedding photo with Chandler from seven years ago and held it up. "What are you talking about? I'm his wife!" The crowd went silent, and the woman who'd slapped me turned white as a sheet. Only then did I finally get it: while I'd been overseas, Chandler had been openly involved with an actress, and everyone in his social circle had already decided she was the future Mrs. Armstrong. Today, they all came expecting to confront a mistress—only to find out that I was actually his wife. Later, Chandler tried to justify it. "Alina, you've been out of the country for years. I'm a man, and I have needs. She's just a B-list actress; it's not like she threatens your position. Why should you be upset? Just let it go," he said. "Don't make a scene." I handed him the divorce papers. "You make me sick."

During a critical meeting, my medical case notes were swapped for "Confession of an Affair”. "Exhibit A: She knowingly intruded into a marriage, a disgrace to her profession." "Exhibit B: Harassing the patient's family and destroying their family." "Exhibit C: Callously endangering lives, deliberately plotting against the wife and child to take her place!" In front of hospital leadership, the patient’s family accused me of being a homewrecker, attempting to shame me into confessing. It was chaotic until she physically assaulted me, leaving me with a concussion. When my husband rushed in from the operating room, I said coldly, "Looks like this ‘real wife’ is being called the mistress! Why would you still defend me?” Without hesitation, my husband stepped forward and slapped the real mistress. “Security!” he called out. “Get this troublemaker out of here, now!”

At the party, my daughter deliberately raises a question to my husband. "Daddy, since Ms. Lloyd is having your baby, does that mean we'll be living with her in the future?" He places the nicely cut steak onto my plate and answers softly, "Your mommy and I made a deal—whoever betrays first will disappear from the other's life. I can't afford for that to happen, darling, so this must stay a secret. Even when the baby is born, I will never let Mommy find out about them." Then, he signs to me, "I'll always love you." My eyes turn red-rimmed without him noticing. Little does he know, my hearing was restored a week ago. He doesn't realize I've learned about the mistress he's been hiding either. And he definitely doesn't know I've secretly bought a ticket to volunteer-teach in the Seru Plateau. All I have to do is wait for the paperwork to clear in seven days. Then, I'll disappear from his life for good.

Kaden Zacarias and I have been together for a decade. He gives me all his love throughout that time. But one day, I see the news of him marrying Gwendolyn Crawford as part of a marriage alliance. He tells his friends, "I'm only fooling around with Ella—does she think I'll actually marry her? It's not like my parents will ever agree to it. I can just keep her around as a mistress after getting married. Remember to keep your mouths shut about this." Our decade-long love goes up in flames, but I don't question him. Instead, I call my father with a withered heart and say, "I'll go through with the marriage alliance. I'll leave the country."

In this world, there are more ways to deal with a problem than the problem itself. That applies just as well to cheating men. Rich men, especially, will go to absurd lengths just to have more women in their lives. There's no trick too low, no scheme too shameless. Take my boss, for example. He handed over his stunning mistress to me. Honestly, I suspected he couldn't perform in bed, because she came into my bedroom night after night.

Everyone said I was Domenico Calvetti's most obedient woman. On our first wedding anniversary, he flirted with a pair of twins at the gambling table. He had lipstick smeared all over his shirt. I smiled and wiped it away with a silk handkerchief, but he swatted my hand aside. "Don't kill the mood." In the third year, the star performer from the club he ran showed up at my door with a gun pressed to my temple, demanding to take my place. Without flinching, I disarmed her using the technique he taught me and disposed of the body myself. Behind me, he held his new lover and laughed softly. "Lucia, you always know what to do." In the fifth year, he blew up the library my father left behind just to make his new flame, Marilena Rossetti, smile. That library was my mother's favorite spot when she was alive, and it held the only photographs of our family of three. The explosion made me the laughingstock of the city. People whispered, "Signora Calvetti can't even protect her own memories." Everyone believed I could never leave the Calvetti family or Domenico, but they forgot how this all started. Back then, he rescued me from my adoptive father and fell in love with me at first sight. He knelt and begged to marry me, swearing he would protect me from blood and pain for the rest of my life. For ten years, I held onto those empty words. At our tenth anniversary party, his hundredth mistress arrived. Alice Russo, fresh out of college, held a glass of red wine and poured it down my gown while Domenico watched. "Signora Calvetti, this dress is so old. Given your position, you should be wearing something better." Everyone at the party waited to see my humiliation. Instead, I lowered my eyes and dialed Domenico's father's number. "Father, the ten-year agreement is over. I won't be Signora Calvetti anymore."