Mistress

At my wedding rehearsal, my fiancé's colleague, Haley Rhodes burst in and tore apart the carefully arranged decor. "Ryan promised he'd marry me!" she shrieked, storming closer, "Who do you think you are?" Without warning, she lunged, grabbing hold of the wedding gown, which was worth a fortune. But she only got so far—she was too heavyset to even squeeze it past her head. I let out a mocking laugh. "Don't tell me you're too big to fit even a plus-size wedding dress?" That really set her off. With grim determination, she forced herself into the gown. But as soon as she did, the delicate fabric tore, leaving absurdly stretched holes across her back and waist. "Too bad the dress is ruined now. But who cares?" she sneered triumphantly. "Ryan loves me. He’ll buy me another wedding gown, anyway." But when the actual wedding began, she got the shock of her life. The groom walking down the aisle wasn’t Ryan at all. It was their boss — Ryan and Haley's boss. Well, I never said this was my wedding.

My father-in-law said he wanted to experience "how the young folks have fun these days," so I took him to my wife's newly opened upscale cocktail bar for a quiet drink. I’d just finished ordering him a custom cocktail when a man from a booth across the room swaggered over, glass in hand. His eyes scanned the drink menu on our table, and a condescending smirk twisted his lips. "Only ordering the cheapest well drinks?" he sneered. "Brought the old man here to enjoy the free air conditioning? Trash like you belongs in a dive bar. Who even let you in here?" Anger burned in my chest. I stood up, my jaw clenched. "We're paying customers. What's it to you?" But before I could say another word, his face darkened with pure rage. He snatched the half-finished beer bottle from our table and raised it high above my head. "My girl owns this place!" he snarled. "Even if I crack your skull open, I can afford the payout! You filthy pauper—either get on your knees and lick my shoes dry, or get the hell out of my sight. You're an eyesore." The beer dripped down my face. My hands trembled with fury as I wiped it away. Then, a cold calm settled over me. I opened my phone, switched to the camera, and went live. "Alright, everyone," I said into the screen. "You won't want to miss this. We're going live to catch my cheating wife and see the double life she's been leading."

On the day I came of age, my grandfather, Wilson Saddler, laid out photos of the most eligible bachelors from elite families in the capital, asking me to choose one for an arranged marriage. Without hesitation, I chose the eldest son of the Sullivan family, Ethan Sullivan. Everyone present was stunned. After all, everyone in our circle knew that I, Sabrina Saddler, eldest daughter of the powerful Saddler family, had always liked Aaron Johansen, the young heir of the Johansen family. Ever since I was little, I’d followed Aaron around, declaring I would marry him when I grew up. In my previous life, I did marry Aaron as I wished. But after the wedding, he told me he had always loved my younger sister, Rachel Saddler, and would remain a virgin for her. He made me sleep alone for three months. When my father found out, he married Rachel off to the son of a business partner. Aaron thought I was the one who meddled and forced Rachel to leave. From then on, he stayed out every night, indulging in nightlife, sometimes even flaunting women in front of me. In the end, I was pushed into traffic by Rachel and Aaron, and I died at an intersection. Given a second chance at life, I decided to stay far away from him. I gave him and Rachel my blessing. I never expected that at my engagement party with Ethan, he would completely lose control and try to crash the wedding.

I push through my Gamma warrior training ahead of schedule just to get back to the pack sooner. All I want is to stand beside my Alpha, Kyle Faucher, and finally complete our mate-bonding ceremony. But when I step into our house, scarred and feeling hopeful, I see 100 old boarding passes to the Darkmoon pack littering the floor. That pack is only a mile from my training grounds. Kyle's been that close for two years, and still, he never came. I sprint to the place where we were supposed to have our mate-bonding ceremony, clinging to the desperate hope that there's an explanation. But the moment I burst through the doors, I stopped cold. Kyle is down on one knee, dressed in a tailored suit, his eyes locked on someone with a softness I've never seen in him before. Standing across from him, smiling through her tears, is my stepsister, Vivian Blackwell. "Vivian, I haven't completed the mate-bonding ceremony with Serene. Say the word, and I'll reject her and mark you right now." At that moment, the world goes still, and I even forgot how to breathe. So this is what he's been doing while I was gone, chasing the woman he never let go of. Meanwhile, I spent those two years giving everything I had, trying to become someone worthy of standing by his side. I don't ask why or shed a tear. I just turn around and walk away. If she's what he wants, then so be it. The mate-bonding ceremony I dreamed of will be theirs instead. But the second I'm gone, he loses it and sends every warrior looking for me.

Ang bunsong anak ko, na pitong taong gulang palang, ay natuklaw ng ahas. Dinala ko siya sa ospital ng aking panganay na anak para ipagamot. Sa hindi inaasahan, inakala ng girlfriend ng aking panganay na anak na ako ay kanyang kabit. Hindi lang niya pinipigilan ang mga medical staff sa pagpapagamot sa bunso kong anank, kundi sinampal niya pa ako. "Perfect match kami ng boyfriend ko. Ang kapal ng mukha mo para dalhin ang hindi mo tunay na anak dito para hamunin ako!" Idiniin niya ako sa sahig habang hinahampas at sinasaktan niya ako. Sumigaw pa siya, "Ang isang malandi na tulad mo ay titigil lang sa pang-aakit sa iba kapag hindi mo na kaya!" Binuugbog ako, maraming pasa, at duguan habang dinadala ako sa emergency room. Ang aking panganay na anak ang humahawak sa operasyon. Nanginginig ang kanyang kamay habang nakahawak sa kanyang scalpel, at mukha siyang mapula. "Sino ang gumawa nito sa iyo, Ma?"

Sebastian Sterling was the CEO of the Sterling Group, ranked third among the world's wealthiest business leaders. We had a five-year-long relationship, three years of which we lived together. He told me he loved me so much that he was willing to sacrifice himself for me, yet he never gave me the title of Mrs. Sterling. During those three years of living together, he betrayed me three times, pushing me into hell with his own hands. The first time, he secretly obtained a marriage certificate with his close friend's widow. However, he knelt before me, crying and begging me to believe that it was just for protection. The second time, under the spotlight of media cameras and thousands of watching eyes, he held her hand and announced that she was his wife and the lady of the Sterling family. Backstage, he gripped my hand and swore in a low voice that he would marry me once everything ended. The third time, he spent a passionate night with her and got her pregnant. I discovered the truth when I saw them at the hospital, attending a prenatal appointment together. Loving him was death by a thousand cuts. I forgave him again and again, yet he betrayed me every time. One day, I finally walked away. In my pocket was my positive pregnancy test—I was carrying the child he had always wanted. Only then did Sebastian collapse to his knees in regret, crying out my name with a broken voice. However, he had lost not just me, but the heir he never knew existed too!

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

On the day I was diagnosed with uremia, my husband asked me to donate a kidney to his one true love. I turned him down, claiming I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t expect him, my own husband, who was a doctor, to drag me to trial. The charge? Ingratitude. If found guilty, I would be executed on the spot, my kidney forcibly harvested, my soul condemned for eternity. But if the charges were dismissed, my husband would face immediate execution. His love would fall into ruin, plagued by illness and poverty. Everyone pressured me to confess. After all, when I nearly died in a car crash years ago, it was her blood transfusion that had pulled me back from the brink of death. But what they didn’t know was… I had been reborn. In my past life, I died never knowing my husband and his lover had orchestrated the car crash that nearly killed me. Now that I had returned, I would tear off their masks and expose their malice for all to see.

My best friend and I were in relationships with the brothers from the Wilson Family, and we both got pregnant at the same time. She flaunted her relationship publicly, making everyone in Junopia know that Rick had left the monastery for her. On the other hand, I kept silent about my relationship with the heir of the Wilson Family. Thus, everyone mistakenly thought I was single. That was until my best friend saw my pregnancy report. In a fit of rage, she rallied a group of friends, stormed into my dorm, and vandalized my room with food waste. "I thought you were my best friend, and here you are, trying to steal my man," she accused. Not only did she live-stream this accusation, trying to paint me as the other woman, but she also spiked my chicken soup, hoping to get rid of my unborn child. In defiance, I poured the contaminated soup over her head. "Just so you know, Rick isn't the only Wilson brother," I retorted. Later, Rayden, the man who controlled Junopia, wrapped his arm around me and declared icily, "I've heard troubling rumors about my wife being called a mistress. We need to talk."

My grandfather, Terry Sims, suffered from bipolar disorder and was prone to anger and mood swings. My mother, Catherine, was his only chill pill. On the day they were hunted down by enemies, my mom went into early labor and lost her life in an attempt to save him. Devastated, my grandfather could not see a way out of his disorder and poured all his love into me. He would pull out the tongues of those who mocked me and fed them to the dogs. The families of those who hurt me would meet their end. It was known to the people of Mistvale that the granddaughter of Terry Sims was untouchable. Due to my congenital heart disease, he reluctantly sent me abroad for medical treatment. After my surgery, I rushed back to his side for his birthday, thinking of giving him a surprise. However, I was mistaken for a gold digger by a carer and locked in the basement. “Of all the things you can do for your age, you throw yourself at men. Since your parents won’t restrain your behavior, I’ll have to do it for them.” She pulled out my tongue, dumped acid all over me, and dug out my snewly transplanted heart to give as a birthday gift to my grandfather, who had been waiting for my return. “Mr. Sims, the skank tried to impersonate Ms. Sims, but I got everything sorted out for you.”