The Mistress Book Novels & Stories

She mustered up the courage to open it up, seeing her text. From: Lyza Yang To: Samantha Lee Sam, here are the proofs of your boyfriend’s mistress. It’s real and I have confirmed her identity. I’ll tell you later tonight. Her jaw dropped on the floor as soon as she scrolled down the contents. There was a woman in front of her, and he’s tucking her hair behind her ear. It was a little blurry, but Sam can recognize who that woman was. Tilting her head to one side, she couldn’t help but to feel enraged. It’s similar to a volcano awoken for a thousand times over. The lava will came out as the final piece of information showed up in front of her eyes.

I slowly opened it, my face remained impassive, and walked in, pointing my gun at the man who had just done a deep thrust to his wh*re, she was now gripping the bedsheet and screaming in pleasure. "Hands up! Don't ever make a move." They were both roused from their lust lands as they both turned their heads in my way. Both were drenched in perspiration and struggling to regain their breath. The lady flinched and swiftly pulled herself up; I can see her trembling in panic as the man, who had been looking at me with dull eyes, slowly adjusts himself. My eyes welled up with tears, but I tried my best to keep them back and stay cool, stern, and emotionless in front of him. After this day swears

she said, and an evil smile formed on her lips. She stood up and went back to her table. She saw Andrea and she glared at her. Andrea feels something creepy and someone is watching her. She didn't notice that the one watching her was her husband's secret mistress. The mistress approached the man with her. "Let's go," she said, and they went out. As soon as they are already far away from the restaurant, the mistress looks at the man she is with. "You only have one month left. Now that you are close with Andrea, do what you need to do, or your sister's life will be ruined," she said as she grinned wickedly at the man. The man secretly clenched his fist and nodded at her.

He always was. I filed the column away in the same place I filed everything that was not yet time for, the back of my mind, the drawer no one looked in, the part of me that was patient and precise and willing to wait for exactly the right moment. Vanessa Moretti had been in that house with me. Had eaten at my table. Had slept in my bedroom. Had stood in my kitchen and hit me twice across the same cheek while my husband stood in the doorway and did not move. Had spent years building her life on a foundation of lies so elaborate she had perhaps begun to believe them herself.

She picked up the memorial photo from the floor, feigning confusion. "What's this picture?" she mumbled. Then, she shrieked, deliberately dropping Claire's photo on the ground as if it were cursed. "Martin, Stella is... Isn't this going too far? Mrs. Hughes Senior is alive and well, but she actually..." Martin violently tore the photo to shreds and threw the pieces in my face. The fragments cut my cheeks and sliced through my already shattered heart. I dropped to my knees, frantically picking up the pieces and trying to put them back together. The glass shards pierced my palms and shins, but nothing hurt as much as seeing Claire's final photo destroyed.

I clenched my fists, the memory igniting my anger afresh. “He offered to ‘settle’ my debts with Victor. Said he would make them disappear if I agreed to be his mistress for a year.” The word burned on my tongue. “Like I’m some whore he can buy.” Lila whistled, leaning back against the counter, her robe slipping to reveal more of her thigh. “Damn, girl. That’s a bold move, even for him.” She sipped her whiskey, her eyes narrowing. “You should take it.” I stared at her, stunned. “What?”

I responded as I smirked. The smile on her face dropped as Arsenio chuckled. “How dare you talk to me like that?? Who the fuck do you think you are???” Monalisa asked as she glared at me. “I am his mistress but who are you madam??? What is your relationship with him??Let me answer that for you….you are his past and it is best you remain there because that is where you belong. She was about to slap me when I caught her hand and gave her a deadly glare.

I held and squeezed Ruth’s hand, who still sat frozen on the sofa. "Sarah, wait!" Derrick called out. "Where are you going?" Kendall whined as Derrick pulled away from her and ran after me. Sonia looked bewildered as Derrick chased me. "Sarah, wait!” Finally, Derrick caught up to me. "What now?" I asked, annoyed. "We’re getting back together, right? Don’t worry about Kendall. She’ll accept being the mistress because you’ll always be my wife," Derrick said shamelessly. "Hey, Derrick, sleeping with a hooker has messed up your brain, huh? Speak with some sense. Now move. I’m leaving."

Cassia proudly said. “Hello, dear! So you’re the one who organized everything. Nice to meet you, Sofia. I’m Larissa Quinto, Asher’s mother,” Larissa greeted warmly. “Sofia? You look familiar. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you work at a casino in Angeles?” Armando inquired. “Yes, sir,” Sofia replied tersely. The beautiful woman composed herself as she faced Armando Quinto, determined not to show any sign of nervousness. She refused to let him see her as weak in such a situation.

Meanwhile, for years, Victoria could freely stride into this mansion carrying dozens of luxury shopping bags without ever needing to hide a single item. Victoria could wear the most expensive gowns, flaunt the latest designer handbags in front of everyone, and walk with her head held high in absolute pride. And what about her? Elena stared at the luxury boxes before her with a profoundly wounded gaze. Even to possess beautiful things, she had to acquire them by surrendering her own dignity. By becoming the mistress of her own step-sister’s husband, hiding her existence in the darkest corner. As if these items were a massive, disgusting sin.