Mistress

On Valentine's Day, I set up a candlelit dinner and waited. At 9 PM, my husband, Alfred Johnston, finally texted. [Something came up at work. Don't wait for me.] Then I saw her post. [On a business trip with the CEO for Valentine's Day. Every hotel is fully booked—awkward...] Vivian Bianca, his secretary. Attached was a photo of a guy in a bathrobe, standing by a floor-to-ceiling window. The comments were all 'ooh, CEO's so hot and girl, you're in for a night.' Vivian? Just dropped a smug emoji. So that's what "something came up" meant—a romantic getaway with his secretary. I screenshotted it, posted it on my own feed, and added a smiling emoji. A second later, Alfred called, fuming. "Vivian was joking! Why are you so petty? She's young, not as calculating as you!" I didn't let him finish. "Then let's get a divorce. That way, I won't have to care when you screw around and catch something."

When the earthquake struck, Pierse Jones instinctively shielded me with his body, taking the full brunt of the impact and suffering multiple fractures. In the hospital room, the girl in the next bed looked at me with envy and said, “Your husband didn’t even care about his own life to save you. He really loves you.” I forced a smile. “Yeah.” But just last night, after I had fallen asleep, he slipped into the bathroom, his voice soft and soothing as he spoke to someone else—his little mistress, “I’m fine, don’t cry. Be good.” “As long as I think of you, I’m not afraid of anything.” Pierse and I grew up together, from childhood sweethearts to each other’s first love. We had been together for ten years, admired by everyone as the perfect couple. No one knew he had a mistress on the side, a girl who looked just like me when I was eighteen.

As the plane was going down, we discovered one of the parachutes was defective. In that life-or-death moment, Eugene Shaw handed me the last working parachute. I made it to the ground, but my illegitimate sister, Sharon Cook, was lost in the crash, her remains never recovered. After our rescue, Eugene kept his word and married me, fulfilling our engagement. The wedding was extravagant, but our marriage was a complete disaster. For six years, he lived with a searing hatred, convinced I was responsible for Sharon’s death. To him, I was a villain, and my life became a living hell. When we finally reached the end of our toxic marriage, Eugene dragged me back to the site of the crash, choosing to end both our lives in a twisted act of vengeance. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day, just before the crash. This time, I decided to give the chance of survival to the person he loved most.

It's the tenth anniversary of my bonding with my warrior mate, Owen Chase, and also our son Leo's birthday. A month earlier, I spent $8000 arranging a trip to the Blood Moon Forest. I plan to take my mate and pup to the Moon Goddess' sacred grounds to receive her blessings. This is supposed to be a happy anniversary celebration for our complete werewolf family. I've prepared everything and booked tickets for the Twilight Coach. But on the night before our departure, Owen and Leo suddenly block our mind-link. "Dad and I are having dinner with Ms. Emma on the 24th floor of Moonlight Restaurant. We've cancelled the tickets—we're not going." The call ends there. They promptly block my number as well. I rush back to our pack overnight, only to find that the security system no longer recognizes me. That night, every household locks its doors and activates protective barriers against the toxic mist of the Silver Mines in the nearby Moonveil Valley, while I could only huddle on the stone steps outside our house, inhaling the silver-laden fog all night. The poisonous substances flood my systems. I am sent to the hospital, burning with fever as my wolf grows weaker with every labored breath. Meanwhile, my family is busy touring Central City with Emma Skinner, spending the money I had worked so hard to earn. Owen posts a photo on his social media. In the photo, Emma, my mate Owen, and my child Leo stand hand-in-hand in front of the wishing fountain in Central City, all smiling brightly. The caption reads: "A perfect trip, a perfect family of three." It is only then that I finally understand—this family exists in name only. It's time for me to rebuild my life.

After her husband Vince’s ex-girlfriend returned, Stephanie was discarded without a second thought. As if that weren’t bad enough, Vince and his mistress destroyed the career she cherished most. At the lowest point of her life, Stephanie received a proposition from Henry, Vince’s rival: become his contract wife, and he would help her get revenge. Now, armed with a powerful ally, Stephanie is back to settle the score. But as the lines between revenge and passion blur, she finds herself falling for the man who was supposed to be just an ally—falling in love with Henry.

I had just returned early from a business trip abroad, eager to surprise my five-year-old son. However, as I stood at the entrance of his preschool, the sight before me froze me in place. My son was clinging to my husband's "first love," calling her "Mom." I moved forward to get my son back, but before I could do anything, she screamed, "Help! A kidnapper is trying to take this child! Let's do the right thing today! Stand up for families who've had their kids stolen!"  She egged on the bystanders, rallying them to act in the name of justice. Without a second thought, a crowd of people pummeled me right there in the street, hitting me with rocks that smashed into my face, breaking my legs with metal pipes, and ripping the clothes from my body before tying me to a streetlamp. It was only then that I realized that in the month I'd been away, my husband had moved his first love into our home, taking my place. However, did he forget? He was nothing more than a man who married into my family! I couldn’t wait to see who couldn’t live without the other!

#While returning home from a late-night shift, I was knocked down by a delivery rider. The girl riding it was deaf and mute, looking no older than a teenager. I couldn’t bring myself to make things difficult for her, so I paid for the medical expenses at the hospital on my own. Limping back home, I saw a familiar delivery helmet lying at the doorway. From inside, laughter echoed through the walls. “She’s such a fool. I was just pretending but she believed it anyway.”

I'm due for a promotion when I stumble upon my husband entangled with his childhood sweetheart. After that, I'm secretly admitted to a psychiatric facility. I repeatedly tell the doctors that I'm fine, but all I get is worse abuse and humiliation. When Howard Armstrong visits me every month, I beg him to get me out. Each time, he says, "This is a proper establishment, so you have to follow the doctor's instructions. Don't be unreasonable!" On the day I'm discharged, he speaks to me tenderly and calls me his honey. Later, when I place a divorce agreement before him, he breaks down in tears.

At my wedding, my bridesmaid shamelessly flaunted my wedding ring. Then she had the audacity to put on a pitiful act right in front of me. My husband dismissed it as a trivial matter and scolded me for overreacting. Without hesitation, I left him and filed for divorce. If these two shameless people were so fond of each other, they could have each other.

The night my in-laws were rushed to the hospital after a car accident, I hurried over to handle the situation. At the payment counter, I swiped my card—only to find that the joint account I shared with my husband had a mere two dollars left. I called my husband, Zarrick Thompson, over and over again. But he never picked up. It wasn't until later that I learned the truth—he had taken our money to celebrate his first love's birthday. Desperate, I borrowed seventy thousand from a friend to save my in-laws. But after they recovered, they flat-out denied everything. My husband, meanwhile, made no attempt to hide his relationship with her. He wanted me gone. To force me into a divorce, he went as far as setting me up—staging an affair, taking photos of me being humiliated. Then he used them to threaten me. Either I walked away with nothing, shouldering all our debts, or he would ruin me completely. I worked endlessly, day and night, to pay it all off. Until, one winter, I collapsed in a frozen alley and never got up again. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the accident.