Mistress

On our anniversary, Nina Reid took our daughter—and her assistant, Ray Chapman—out for another "family day." Without me. That was it. I filed for divorce. Right after signing the papers and boxing up my stuff, I heard a buzz from the corner. Old phone. Twelve years old. Buried in a drawer. The screen lit up with a number I almost recognized. Hand shaking, I picked up. A voice I hadn't heard in years. Young. Way too familiar. "Hey, Liam. I need to talk to you."

On the eve of our wedding, Trevin Hoffman's childhood sweetheart, a mercenary who had vanished for five years, was struck by a deadly love spell during a mission. When her teammates dragged her back to him, she was covered in blood, barely clinging to life. Trevin, usually calm and composed, lost control. Ignoring my protests, he locked himself in with her for the entire night. I sat outside that door, sleepless until dawn. The next morning, when I demanded an explanation in hysteria, he shielded her with his body and snapped, his mask completely gone. "I couldn't just watch Wren die. One wild night before marriage, what's so wrong with that?" At that moment, I was disillusioned. My love for him vanished in an instant.

Three days after I died, my fiancé got a call to ID the body. He just scoffed. "She's dead, so what? Call me when she's in the ground." The cops, out of options, hit up my backup contact—my childhood friend. He actually laughed. "She's really gone? Not my problem. Burn her or whatever." Then my body hit the internet— And suddenly, both of them looked like ghosts.

My secretary replaced me on my wedding day, walking down the aisle in a white wedding gown. The man I had loved for ten years threw the bridesmaid dress in my face and ordered me to wear it instead. "She is the bride now. You'll be next," he said coldly. My grandmother was so furious that she fell ill on the spot. Meanwhile, he and the secretary smiled brightly as they completed the wedding ceremony. After the grand wedding, the secretary posted photos of herself in her wedding gown on social media. The comments were overwhelmingly congratulatory. [Today is such a beautiful day, I finally got what I wanted. I hope those who try to ruin someone else's relationship will wake up soon.] She wrote. Chester Morrison replied to her post: [It is a great day. Don't ruin your good mood by some trash.] When I returned home, holding my grandmother's photo, who had passed away, I found them tangled together on the bedspread my grandmother had lovingly sewn for me, the one with a pair of Swan that symbolizes eternal love.

Zacharias Goldman's second-in-command was a young and beautiful Beta. His friends, thinking he had never done anything to the Beta, often laughed at his incompetence. "She's a cute female. Are you sure you can hold it back?" Zacharias leaned into the back of the couch lazily. His voice was oozing with nonchalance. "I can't. She's… delicious." That shocked the crowd. Mikhail Crosswing, his best friend, whistled. "And I thought you were loyal to the end. Loyal to Lucilla. She's going to raise hell if she finds out." Zacharias chortled. "Ah, yes, she can be a headache when she does that. That's why you boys need to cover for me. The bonding ceremony is in three days. I don't want anything to go wrong." The boys cackled and promised they would keep their mouths sealed. I was standing right outside the door. I heard everything, but all I did was leave in silence. The mate ring was still in my hand, but the bonding ceremony was not going to happen.

My wife, Caroline Bailey, was a forensic pathologist. For her first love, Ian Lawson, she was willing to break every rule she held sacred and allowed him into the autopsy room to observe. She even let him throw acid onto a corpse's face. That was, until Caroline took on a new case. As she stood over the disfigured body on her operating table, she began to fall apart. The acid-burned face was starting to look more and more like mine.

My family was on the brink of bankruptcy. To save us, my dad married me to a rich and powerful family. Before the wedding day, my fiancé demanded a virginity test. I confidently agreed to the test. To my surprise... The man who examined me was actually the doctor who had repaired my hymen three times by now...

At the celebration where Lorenzo Alvarez is crowned the new mafia boss, his men arrange a few performances. A dancer in a backless top and short skirt twists around the pole under the lights. "Don't look," he murmurs, covering my eyes with his hand. "This kind of cheap entertainment isn't worthy of you." His men jump in immediately. "Lorenzo still spoils Ms. Valenti after all these years. That kind of devotion is rare. We're so jealous." "A man as loyal and single-minded as Lorenzo is hard to find." I rest a hand on my belly, planning to tell him tonight that I am pregnant. But when I return from the restroom, I see the same man who had just held me in his arms leaning back in his chair while the dancer straddles his lap. Lorenzo slips his business card and a thick fold of cash into the waistband of her skirt. He laughs, relaxed and unbothered. "Isabella is wonderful, sure, but life needs a little passion. This ragazza is just something new. A bit of fun. "Keep your mouths shut. Don't go running to Isabella and upset her. Otherwise, you'll have a problem." Cold rushes through me. I do not approach or confront Lorenzo. I simply take out my phone and answer the email I have been avoiding for days. "I agree to participate in the confidential experiment."

“Wendy, are you absolutely sure you want to sign this document?” The Elder’s voice rang in my ears—cold, distant. “Once your bond with Alpha John is dissolved, you’ll lose everything tied to the Blackthorn Pack.” I gripped the pen so hard my knuckles turned white. “Yes. I’m sure.” But just as the tip touched the paper— BANG! The door was kicked open with a violent crash. Alpha John stormed in, eyes bloodshot, and wrapped his hand around my throat. “You dare?!” Blood slipped from the corner of my lips… but I laughed. Because I knew—he would never discover the truth. That his dear uncle, Alpha Vincent, was hiding in my closet at this very moment. And the fresh bite mark on my lower belly… still burned from last night. As if fate was mocking me, my sweet little sister Penny sent a message right then: “Sis, wanna know a secret? That miscarriage you had? John planned it. He made it happen.” Then the TV flickered to life with a breaking live broadcast— There she was, Penny, gently stroking her swollen belly as she smiled into the camera. “John and I are expecting our baby next month,” she announced proudly to the entire Pack. And Alpha John—my “husband”—stood beside her, lovingly kissing her forehead. Like I never existed. Like I wasn’t the Luna written in law. “Miranda,” my wolf snarled in my head, “Rip those traitors apart—now!” But I didn’t. I wiped the blood from my mouth, and dialed the number I hadn’t called in five long years. “Vincent,” I said calmly, “Come get me.”

I spend a decade as the woman behind Corey Larson. I help him save his company from the brink of bankruptcy and turn it into a public-listed company. He's on the cusp of success, and I'm about to propose to him. That's when he brings his childhood sweetheart into the picture to take my place. He thanks me for my decade of hard work. Then, he tells me I'm no longer a good fit for the company as it's about to embark on a new journey. I stare at him. I've loved him for ten years and given him my everything, but he brushes me off with a bank card. My blood turns to ice. The decade I've spent with him has ultimately gone down the drain. He doesn't seem to realize the consequences, though. Once I quit and leave, his company will cease to exist… just like my love for him.