Mistress

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...

On Valentine's Day, my husband Ethan Scott’s assistant, Taylor Winston, gifted me 360 used condoms. She leaned close to my ear and whispered that this was Ethan’s favorite brand. Then, in front of everyone, she teased, "Valentine's Day calls for some explosive fun. I hope you don't mind, Claire." Disgust churned in my stomach, and I couldn’t hold back—I vomited on the spot. Embarrassed that I had humiliated him, Ethan snapped, "It was just a joke. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" Three months pregnant, I was so enraged that a patch of red stained my pants. I begged him to take me to the hospital. But Taylor chimed in, "It's just her physiological reaction." Furious, Ethan heartlessly locked me in the car. He spent three carefree days with Taylor before finally remembering me. But when he saw me again, the usually composed CEO of Scott Enterprise completely lost his mind.

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.

I discover that I'm a homewrecker after dating my boyfriend for a decade. We're looking at marital homes when his wife seeks me out. She beats me up in public and rips my hair out, yet all he does is hurry to her after I've pushed her to the floor. Why? Because she's pregnant. Later, he gets a divorce and begs me to marry him. "I'm begging you, Madison. Forgive me this once."

A plane crash tore my husband and his twin brother apart. One survived. One did not. When I rushed to the hospital, I saw my brother-in-law, who had just survived the crash, locked in a passionate kiss with his wife. My husband? He lay lifeless in the morgue. Blinded by grief, I stumbled down the stairs…and lost the child I had spent three years longing for. Three years passed. Just as I was finally learning to breathe without him, I overheard a conversation between his closest friend and my brother-in-law: "How long do you plan to keep pretending to be your brother? Alicia is your legal wife." He adjusted his glasses, voice icy and distant. "I swore to my brother I'd protect Emily for the rest of my life. I am him now. As for Alicia… let her be the debt I carry into my next life." That's when I learned the truth. It was the brother-in-law who died in the crash. My husband, the man I had mourned all those years, had taken on his brother's identity to stay by Emily's side, the unattainable woman he had always secretly loved. So then what about me? The woman clinging to old memories, living in torture for three years. What was I to him?

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.

The year Lawrence Scott and I were most in love, he died in a car accident. Everyone thought I would fall apart, but I did not cry, and I did not scream. Two years later, I ran into him at a private lounge: Lawrence was there, holding a young girl in his arms, kissing her passionately. His friends hurried over to explain: "Back then, Lawrence was badly injured in the crash and fell into a coma. He just woke up recently but lost his memory. We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to worry." Lawrence pushed the girl aside, frowned slightly, and looked straight at me. "So you're the fiancée I supposedly forgot? I don't remember you, but since you never gave up on me, I'll honor my promise to marry you." I smiled faintly and said, "They lied to you. We don't know each other." What Lawrence did not know was that on the day he faked his death, I received a video. In it, he was laughing and saying to his friends, "The thought of spending the rest of my life with only Yoana drives me crazy. I'll fake my death, take a few years off to have fun. Just keep her company so she doesn't do anything stupid." He also did not know that during those two years he was 'dead,' I had found someone else.

I am the woman who stays the longest by the side of mafia Don Jasper Shaw. I believe I hold a unique place in his heart. But when his beloved Rosie Hurley suffers violation and falls pregnant, everything changes. Accused of orchestrating Rosie's downfall, I become the venomous villain in their eyes. To shield Rosie from gossip, Jasper publicly claims her unborn child as his own. Meanwhile, I am branded a depraved woman, defiled and discarded. Desperate, I reveal my own pregnancy to Jasper, pleading for our child’s future. He dismisses it as a ploy for attention. When I confront him, his words cut deep. "This is the sin you must atone for. Rosie has always been raised like a princess, and she can't endure the whispers—not like you." For the first time, I realize I am nothing to Jasper but a tool for his desires. Rosie locks me in a cramped cellar, where I suffocate and die. My body lies undiscovered for a month. When Jasper receives the call to identify my corpse, he brushes it off, prioritizing Rosie's prenatal checkup. "Amara's lies are piling up. So what if she's dead? Cremate her and then talk to me." My body enters the furnace and is reduced to a handful of ashes. Later, the mighty Jasper Shaw kneels and sobs uncontrollably. He begs for just one glimpse of me.

Sophie, who deeply loved Dylan, had been enduring constant pain because Dylan was in love with a lowly maid. Dylan believed the maid was his lifesaver, and he forced Sophie to donate a kidney to her. Only then did he realize he had mistaken the wrong person—but by that time, Sophie had already left him forever.

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."