Mistress Novels & Stories

My father-in-law said he wanted to experience "how the young folks have fun these days," so I took him to my wife's newly opened upscale cocktail bar for a quiet drink. I’d just finished ordering him a custom cocktail when a man from a booth across the room swaggered over, glass in hand. His eyes scanned the drink menu on our table, and a condescending smirk twisted his lips. "Only ordering the cheapest well drinks?" he sneered. "Brought the old man here to enjoy the free air conditioning? Trash like you belongs in a dive bar. Who even let you in here?" Anger burned in my chest. I stood up, my jaw clenched. "We're paying customers. What's it to you?" But before I could say another word, his face darkened with pure rage. He snatched the half-finished beer bottle from our table and smashed it on my head. "My girl owns this place!" he snarled. "Even if I crack your skull open, I can afford the payout! You filthy pauper—either get on your knees and lick my shoes dry, or get the hell out of my sight. You're an eyesore." The beer dripped down my face. My hands trembled with fury as I wiped it away. Then, a cold calm settled over me. I opened my phone, switched to the camera, and went live. "Alright, everyone," I said into the screen. "You won't want to miss this. We're going live to catch my cheating wife and see the double life she's been leading."

At my wedding rehearsal, my fiancé's colleague, Haley Rhodes burst in and tore apart the carefully arranged decor. "Ryan promised he'd marry me!" she shrieked, storming closer, "Who do you think you are?" Without warning, she lunged, grabbing hold of the wedding gown, which was worth a fortune. But she only got so far—she was too heavyset to even squeeze it past her head. I let out a mocking laugh. "Don't tell me you're too big to fit even a plus-size wedding dress?" That really set her off. With grim determination, she forced herself into the gown. But as soon as she did, the delicate fabric tore, leaving absurdly stretched holes across her back and waist. "Too bad the dress is ruined now. But who cares?" she sneered triumphantly. "Ryan loves me. He’ll buy me another wedding gown, anyway." But when the actual wedding began, she got the shock of her life. The groom walking down the aisle wasn’t Ryan at all. It was their boss — Ryan and Haley's boss. Well, I never said this was my wedding.

I've been married to Ryland Webster for eight years. In that time, we got divorced nine times. I met every woman he dated after our wedding. Whenever he grew tired of someone and wanted out, I became his favorite excuse. "If you marry him, you'll end up like me," I told them. "Cleaning up his messes, signing divorce papers over and over, and walking away with nothing." On New Year's Eve, I sat beside another woman he'd abandoned, handing her tissues as she cried. Across the city, Ryland was setting off a fireworks display for his newest girlfriend. As I watched her sob through an entire box of tissues, I saw a younger version of myself. For the first time, I asked Ryland for a divorce. He looked genuinely confused. "We'll be remarried in three days," he said. "Do we really need to go through this again?" I smiled and shook my head. No. Not this time. Ryland, I'm done waiting for you.

My wife, Melanie Sutton, uses my life-saving money to bridge the funding gap of her first love, Fred Grayson's company. With hatred shining in her eyes, she tells me, "You owe him this much, Edison Clark! I'd have gotten together with Fred a long time ago if it weren't for you! "People like you deserve to die!" As expected, I end up dying later on, only to get reborn on the day Melanie confesses to Fred. This time, I no longer stop her.

Ian Ludwig and I have grown more in sync in the eight years we have been married. I believe him when he lies to me that he's on a business trip, when in reality he's buying a villa for Francesca Yarrington, his childhood friend. He also believes me when I hand him a divorce agreement, saying that it is a property transfer agreement. There's still one month left in the cooling-off period before our divorce is finalized. That gives me just enough time to clear out everything from our eight years of marriage.

On the day I came of age, my grandfather, Wilson Saddler, laid out photos of the most eligible bachelors from elite families in the capital, asking me to choose one for an arranged marriage. Without hesitation, I chose the eldest son of the Sullivan family, Ethan Sullivan. Everyone present was stunned. After all, everyone in our circle knew that I, Sabrina Saddler, eldest daughter of the powerful Saddler family, had always liked Aaron Johansen, the young heir of the Johansen family. Ever since I was little, I’d followed Aaron around, declaring I would marry him when I grew up. In my previous life, I did marry Aaron as I wished. But after the wedding, he told me he had always loved my younger sister, Rachel Saddler, and would remain a virgin for her. He made me sleep alone for three months. When my father found out, he married Rachel off to the son of a business partner. Aaron thought I was the one who meddled and forced Rachel to leave. From then on, he stayed out every night, indulging in nightlife, sometimes even flaunting women in front of me. In the end, I was pushed into traffic by Rachel and Aaron, and I died at an intersection. Given a second chance at life, I decided to stay far away from him. I gave him and Rachel my blessing. I never expected that at my engagement party with Ethan, he would completely lose control and try to crash the wedding.

Cecilia Jones kept a forgiveness notebook. Six months ago, on Cecilia's birthday, Jeff Lawrence abandoned her to meet Yvonne Smith. It was the 93rd time she’d forgiven him. Three months prior, when Yvonne mentioned she was allergic to cat dander, Jeff gave away the cat Cecilia had raised for years. Cecilia forgave him for the 94th time. One month ago, Jeff got drunk and woke up in the same bed as Yvonne. He insisted that nothing had happened and accused Cecilia of having a dirty mind. Cecilia forgave him for the 95th time.

After failing my conquest mission, I trade my ability to feel in exchange for a ticket back to my home world. Two years later, the system summons me, citing an emergency. It tells me that my old conquest target, Caspian Stone, tried to destroy the entire world just to see me. I turn that request down immediately. Even if I've already lost my ability to feel, rationally speaking, I do not want to be with someone who has hurt me before. The poor system is so anxious that it keeps naming condition after condition. In the end, it agrees to let me stay with Caspian for only three months. In return for my cooperation, once I return from Caspian's world, not only must be the system restore my ability to feel, but it must also pay me a huge sum of money that comes from legal sources and has already gotten taxed. But when I return to Caspian's side as an emotionless robot, he goes deeper down the path of lunacy.

My daughter, Annabelle Turner, was diagnosed with hereditary heart disease. I spent the past five years searching for a compatible heart donor for her. Now, I finally found one. Right before Annabelle is sent into the surgery room, my husband and renowned cardiologist, Gabriel Turner, tearfully makes me a promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure Annabelle gets a shot at life again." Yet halfway through the surgery, Gabriel suddenly leaves in a hurry without giving any explanation. I stumble into the surgery room and see Annabelle lying on the operating table, covered in blood. Her chest is cut wide open, laid bare for all to see. Tyler Rotwell, Gabriel's assistant, stammers out, "Dr. Turner said… that Anna can still hold on a little longer, but Ms. Byron's son can't. "Dr. Turner took the heart that was meant for Anna and left…" I immediately break down and repeatedly call Gabriel's number, but Gabriel never answers a single call, not even when Anna's blood has completely dried… While settling my daughter's post-mortem affairs, I happen to see a newly posted update on Gabriel's childhood friend, Suzanne Byron's social media. "Turns out it was just a misdiagnosis," was what the caption read. "In that case, let's give this useless little thing to our good boy Oscar as a treat!" The video attached depicts Suzanne's dog Oscar tearing into the heart that was supposed to be donated to Annabelle. As I turn to look at Annabelle's cold body, the last shred of love I have for Gabriel starts crumbling apart. By the time Gabriel finally remembers Annabelle, whom he left on the operating table, only an empty bedroom and an urn containing her ashes would greet him…

“One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” Henry asked calmly. It was my thirtieth birthday. The deadline of the promise he made beside my dying mother’s bed. But that day, he needed to take his pregnant sister-in-law to her prenatal appointment. “She’s carrying my late brother’s only child,” he said. “Why are you fighting her for this?” I wasn’t fighting for a date. I was fighting for the last shred of dignity in a fifteen-year love. The girl who once meant everything to him Had slowly become the unreasonable one. The sister-in-law who used to disgust him Had somehow become the one he needed to protect. So I smiled and said, “Fine.” And I left. Three days later, I turned thirty without him. That was the day Henry Jones began to regret it. Because soon he would learn— The baby wasn’t his brother’s. The betrayal didn’t start with me. And the woman he chose to hurt… was the only one who ever stood by him. But by then—I was already gone. And this time,He would be the one begging.