Mistress Of Spices

"Ms. Summers, are you sure you want to terminate this pregnancy?" Solana Summers has been lost in thought, but the repeated questioning suddenly snaps her back to reality. She stares wide-eyed, as if she can't believe what she is seeing. When the doctor, Aidan Bates, urges her again, she realizes she has been reborn. In her previous life, it was on this very day that she discovered she was pregnant and made a choice that cost her dearly. Aidan urges her once more. "Ms. Summers?" "Yes!" Solana answers firmly, her voice trembling ever so slightly. This time, she won't make the same mistake again.

On the day I miscarried and suffered from haemorrhage, my husband posted a photo of a newborn’s tiny feet on his Instagram Story. The caption read: “Welcome, little angel. Daddy will always protect you.” With trembling hands, I called him. “The baby’s gone. Can you come to the hospital?” On the other end, I heard a baby crying, followed by the man’s impatient voice. “In that case, take good care of yourself. Louise just gave birth and needs someone to care for her. I can’t leave. “Besides, the dead shouldn’t compete with the living for affection. Got it?” He hung up right after. I broke down alone on the hospital bed, and when I finally wiped away my tears, I dialed the number of his sworn enemy, Levi Snow. “Marry me, and the entire Wright Corporation will be my dowry. All I want is for you to bring Finn Yeaton down. Do we have a deal?”

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"

At six months pregnant, I joined a moms’ group chat to learn parenting tips from other mothers, and one of them couldn’t resist showing off. "I’m so jealous of you guys, getting to cuddle your babies all day. Not like me—I'm handing mine off to a free nanny right after giving birth!" 'Free nanny? Since when are nannies free?' I tapped on her profile picture—and the sight of that hand draped over her shoulder made cold sweat run down my back.

The New Year was just around the corner. While I was doing a thorough cleaning, I stumbled upon something beneath the couch. It was a damp, used condom, and it still had a faint lipstick stain on the edge. One thing I was sure of was that I didn't use this brand, but the lipstick color? It matched perfectly with my girlfriend Lindsey Stirling's.

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.

My husband's true love and I are trapped when a fire breaks out. He's a firefighter—when he arrives on scene, he chooses to save her without hesitation. I barely make it out alive. Once I do, I demand a divorce. He doesn't understand why. He asks, "Why do you want to divorce me? Because I didn't save you first?" I angrily throw the divorce agreement in his face. "Yes, that's exactly why! Because you chose to save your old flame when she was further from you!"

Just when Anna thought she had won the heart of her husband and could be called a proper mistress after three years of mating, she was met with an ungodly sight. His business trip had been a lie, and she was going to pay for letting him leave for so many months. He was back with another Luna, and he had filed for a divorce, a basic rejection that she had to uphold. She could have walked away and taken over as the Alpha of the Flaming Moon pack, but he was way ahead, eliminating her and their unborn child silently after she had signed the paperwork. Her last wish was “a second chance for revenge.” The moon goddess hears her prayers and sends her messenger, the million-year demon. Anna is saved, trained to become stronger under his rule, and has taken another name, “Noelle,” with one mission in mind. Jake must go down!

PLEASE COMMENT AND RATE THE STORY. . . King's p.o.v "Do you take king as your loving wedded husband, in sickness and in heal...... "No I don't" Isabel answered coldly cutting the priests question short. Everyone murmured as my heart beat wildly in fear. "Isabel" I whispered. She faced me seriously then sighed. "I'm sorry king, I just can't marry you, I'm not in love with you" she answered loudly as people gasped. "But my love, you said that you loved me" I said pleadingly. "I lied okay!, I'm in love with someone else!" she screamed as I felt my heart ache in pain. "If there is something I did wrong, please do forgive me, if it's more money you want I can give you, you can have my black card and everything" I begged then lifted my trembling hands and held her's in mine. "That's it!, no how much money I get or how much jewelry you give me, I just can't stay, you are so fucking rich that your wealth will never end easily, thanks for loving me blindly, because of you, I'm now very rich with your money" She answered.

Another day without him. Another city without him. I miss him so much... sometimes I wish it was me instead. After the sudden death of her father, nineteen-year-old Jessica Mia Jones moves to a quiet new town with her cold-hearted stepmother; all she wants is to survive the grief and stay out of trouble. But this town hides secrets—dangerous ones. First, Mia finds out she’s adopted. Then, she discovers her new crush isn’t entirely human. And worst of all? Neither is she. As strange abilities awaken and nightmares become reality, Mia is forced to question everything about who—and what—she really is. In a town where nothing is what it seems, can she uncover the truth before it’s too late?