Young Mistress Novels & Stories

I begged my husband ninety-nine times to go with me to Jay Boone's concert. On the hundredth time, he finally bought two front-row tickets. Dressed to the nines, I was stopped at the entrance by security because I couldn't produce my ticket. By the time the concert ended, I still hadn't been able to get through to him on the phone. News broke that my husband and his young girlfriend were at the concert, requesting "Sunny Day" from Jay Boone. The story shot straight to the trending charts. There's no rain in the lyrics of "Sunny Day." Because the only world caught in a torrential downpour was mine.

Four months pregnant. I was alone when a rival family came for me.. A searing pain tore through my stomach. I couldn't reach my husband, Don Lorenzo. His phone was off. I woke up in a sterile hospital bed. Three days had passed. And the baby... was gone. That’s when I heard the nurses gossiping. “Heard Don Lorenzo cleared out a block of Fifth Avenue for his mistress three days ago. Had his phone off so they wouldn't be disturbed.” Tears rolled down my cheeks, but my heart was empty. I gave up my career, my whole life, for him. The Don who promised me forever… he shattered that promise just days before our fifth anniversary. Back home, I dug out an old phone and made a call. A number I hadn't touched in five years. "The European tour you mentioned…" I said, my voice hollow. "I'm in. I can be ready in a week."

To prevent the merfolk from being slaughtered, I decided to go ashore and seduce my childhood friend Cyrus, who had become the Alpha King. He still loved me deeply, and we spent three passionate days and nights together in bed. Waking up from a haze of pleasure, I hadn't even had the chance to rejoice before a corrosive elixir was dunked over my head. Listening to my pained wails, Cyrus smirked. "So even an immortal mermaid can feel pain, too? "Well, this is just a taste of what's to come if you don't tell me where my parents are!" Yes, he was convinced that the merfolk were behind his parents' disappearance. From then on, I was forced to watch him flirt with his mistress, Emily; had to extract my mermaid pearl to help heal her body; was forced to dance barefoot to entertain Emily so that she could sleep… Cyrus hated every fiber of my being, yet always held me tenderly in his arms whenever I was on the brink of death, carefully feeding me medicine. Sometimes, he was cruel. "Do you think I'll go easy on you just because I love you? Quick, continue torturing her!" Sometimes, he was gentle. "Can't you be good and tell me where my parents are?" Silently, I endured his twisted love without a word. Soon, however, these days would come to an end, and I wouldn't have to keep that secret any longer. After all, a mermaid who did not return to the sea after three years on land… Would turn into seafoam. And now, there were only three days until my time was up.

I helped my wife, Kim Carey, rise from obscurity into stardom, only to discover that she was having an affair with a rising young actor who looked like me. When I asked for a divorce, she cried and begged me not to leave. In the end, I caved in. I gave her three chances. The first time, she stayed up all night to post a public statement clarifying all the rumors between her and Emmett Stone. She canceled all her work and stayed with me for an entire week. The second time, on my birthday, she publicly announced that Emmett was her soulmate. She even released intimate photos of the two of them. She buried herself in my arms and said righteously, "Emmett is depressed. I'm only doing this to comfort him. You're the only one in my heart. This is the last time. Please believe me." Then, she abandoned me in the wilderness, just because Emmett had suffered a minor injury on his hand. The final time, my father was critically ill and urgently needed a huge sum of money for surgery. She refused to even transfer a single cent to me. "All the money has been invested in Emmett's new drama," she said coldly. "Your father won't die that quickly." That night, my father missed the best window for treatment and died on the operating table. My heart was completely shattered. When Kim finally returned home late that night, I asked for a divorce once more.

My best friend, Sabrina Reeves, hates children. She wants a child of her own, but she doesn't want to give birth to her own child. So, she sought me out and asked me to help give birth to a child for her. She even claimed that her child would be my child, and that they'd take care of me when I grew old. I thought she was crazy. Also, I warned her that it was illegal to find a surrogate mother in our country. Out of fury, Sabrina cut off all ties with me and called me a shameless wretch. "It's just giving birth to a child! I can do that too!" But Sabrina started smoking, drinking, and bar-hopping a lot. She could never get pregnant no matter what. After that, her husband brought his mistress and illegitimate child home before kicking Sabrina out. "Even a hen is capable of laying eggs! I've married you for so long, yet you can't even get pregnant! You really are a loser! "I never said anything about you wanting your best friend to give birth to my child! But you can't even get that done! Isn't this all your fault?" Sabrina pinned the blame on me. She slashed my stomach open repeatedly with a blade. Just like that, I died from the sheer pain. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Sabrina asks me to help give birth to a child for her.

Everyone knew I, Isabella Marino, was Vince Moretti's greatest weakness—the one thing the mafia boss would never tolerate being touched. Years ago, when I was kidnapped, Vince disarmed himself at gunpoint, risking death to get me back, even paying his entire fortune for my ransom. To keep me from harm, he walked a razor's edge, navigating danger at every turn. After I got pregnant, he waited on me hand and foot, barely letting my feet touch the ground. There were rumors that he kept a pampered mistress outside—some woman he spoiled rotten. I never believed them. But then she flaunted herself in front of me. To beg for my forgiveness, Vince cut off his own finger. The next day, that woman slapped her pregnancy test results in my face, sneering, "Vince wanted a baby with me so badly, he just couldn't help himself!" I was already frail. The shock and rage sent me into a miscarriage.

My partner, Derek Crawford, calls himself a traditional man. On our tenth anniversary, I bought him a pair of his favorite AJ sneakers. Instead, he gifted me a bag of pastries. "Your cake is extremely tiny, and yet it costs you a few dozen dollars! Look at the pastries I got you—not only are they cheap, but they are also huge in quantity! Now this is what I call worth it!" After that, Derek tells me that he'll make it up to me by throwing an engagement party. He has also invited my parents and my relatives to the party. With anticipation brimming in our eyes, we arrive at the restaurant, only to see Derek serving us with store-bought pickles and dinner rolls. "I'm a traditional man, you see. I'm not used to fancy food and foreign cuisines. This, right here, is the basics of a traditional dinner. You don't see patriotic men like me nowadays!" My relatives' expressions change drastically on the spot. Meanwhile, my parents look very mortified. I can only smile awkwardly at them while doing everything I can to stop them from leaving. But as soon as I leave the hotel, I receive a notification from the bank that 200 thousand dollars have been deducted from my account via a supplementary card linked to it. At the same time, Derek's childhood sweetheart, Renee Young, posts a photo of her 12-layered luxurious cake on her social media account. "When I told Derek that I wanted to celebrate my birthday, not only did he buy me the most expensive strawberry cake, but he also reserved a dozen or so tables that are served with the grandest feast! "If your man loves you that much, he won't need any lessons in pampering you! Traditional men definitely know how to love and pamper their queens!" I tighten my grip on my phone. As I look back at Derek, who keeps claiming that he's a traditional man stuck to his traditional ways, I suddenly find it exhausting to continue being in a relationship with him.

My husband pretended to lose his memory in a car accident just to fulfill his young girlfriend's wish to become vice president—and to strip me of my position. As I passed by, I accidentally overheard her whisper to him, "Since you agreed to let me borrow the title for seven days, can I borrow you for seven days too?" He smiled and leaned down to kiss her lips. "Of course. Use me however you like." I stopped in my tracks but did not expose his lie. The next day, at the conference table, he slammed his hand down and declared that his girlfriend was his real wife. He ordered me to get out of the company and hand over all my projects. Every employee turned to look at me, waiting for me to put a stop to his outrageous performance.

The chief healer, Evan Stone, is actually my secretive mate of six years. Unfortunately, he keeps refusing to let our pup, Toby Stone, address him as "Daddy". When he misses out on yet another one of Toby's birthdays in favor of spending time with Selena Meadows, his childhood sweetheart who works as a nurse, I finally bring up the topic of wanting to sever our mate bond. After that, Toby and I leave the pack forever. But Evan, who has always been calm and composed, loses control of himself immediately. He barges into the healing center and begins hunting down my scent like a mad wolf. This time, however, both Toby and I will never return to him ever again.

At graduation, I invited my classmates to attend my engagement party, but what I didn’t expect was the total meltdown one of my classmates had when she saw my engagement photos. She strutted over, full of herself, and demanded that I take off my dress so she could use it to polish her shoes. I blinked in confusion, thinking she must have lost her mind. I laughed and suggested she head over to the campus clinic to get checked out. Instead, she exploded, pointing a finger right in my face as she started yelling. “You leech! How dare you wear something so expensive?” she screamed. “You’ve been spending all of my boyfriend’s money on your filthy clothes! Have you no shame? Get down on your knees and apologize, or I guarantee you'll regret it. Who knows where you'll end up tomorrow? Maybe in the hands of some trafficker?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Who would’ve thought that my fiancé, whose tuition fees I paid for, had the nerve to keep a secret mistress behind my back?