Mistress

I've spent a huge sum of money on a custom-fitted gown just so I can go on a date with my fiance, Vincenzo Rossi, on New Year's Eve. He's also known as the rising star of the mafia underworld. But Vincenzo sounds very impatient on the other end of the line. "Can you stop being so clingy, Grazia? I have an important business gathering to get to on New Year's Eve!" His younger sister, Valentina Rossi, adds, "My brother's doing this for the sake of your shared future, Grazia. Stop causing trouble for him, okay?" I end the call, feeling disappointed. After that, I console myself, saying that Vincenzo is working very hard for the sake of our future. But that illusion only lasts till the moment my friend sends a video clip to me. Vincenzo can be seen hugging a gorgeous woman in the clubhouse. They are in the middle of making out with each other. Valentina, on the other hand, leads her friends on as they cheer for the couple. It turns out that Vincenzo's "important business" is to spend the night with another woman. I drain my glass of the strong alcohol. Scorching pain flares from my stomach immediately. Since Vincenzo can find himself a woman to toy with, then why can't I do the same? I swipe a finger across my phone and dial the number of the rival family's Don. "I want you to order the two most good-looking male escorts for me right now."

On my thirtieth birthday, Gideon Salton told me to meet him at city hall. He made sure I wore a wedding dress and brought my papers, hyping it up as a huge birthday surprise. But when I showed up, all dressed up, he turned to his trashy crew and laughed. "No way—she actually did it. Dress, docs, the whole thing. Pay up, fifty bucks each." Then he looked at me. "Come on, Madison. You didn't seriously fall for that?" I didn't answer. He smirked. "If you're that thirsty to get hitched, go inside and grab some rando to register with." His friends cracked up. They called me Gideon's loyal simp, his forever backup plan. Said I'd never end up with anyone else. But when I came out with my husband and a legit marriage certificate, Gideon just froze—pale, silent, wrecked.

I was a soldier's wife. Less than two years into our marriage, I asked Lucian Summers for a divorce because I found a little handmade bracelet at home. It was not mine, and Lucian had never bought me cute little trinkets like this before. Lucian scoffed and said, "All because of that little thing?" I could not be bothered to explain this time, so I replied coldly, "Yeah. It's exactly because of that little thing."

I was the girl Ian Sutherland, the underworld boss himself, personally picked to be a shield for his beloved. By the third year of our marriage, I'd been kidnapped by his enemies for the eighth time. When Ian came with his men to rescue me, the negotiation hadn't even lasted five minutes before the girl called him. "Ian, I lost a dare and have to kiss one of the guys here. But I want my first kiss to be yours. Can you come get me?" … The moment Ian left without a second thought, a knife plunged into my abdomen, and blood gushed out. His men handled it the same way they had the last seven times—paying off whoever they had to, then sending me to the hospital. In the ambulance, I heard someone wondering if I'd live long enough to see the day that girl could stand on her own. They burst out laughing, while I was the only one crying. My mission to save the underworld boss had failed, and I was about to be erased by the system. Ian, I wouldn't live to see that day.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

My best friend and I were in relationships with the brothers from the Wilson Family, and we both got pregnant at the same time. She flaunted her relationship publicly, making everyone in Junopia know that Rick had left the monastery for her. On the other hand, I kept silent about my relationship with the heir of the Wilson Family. Thus, everyone mistakenly thought I was single. That was until my best friend saw my pregnancy report. In a fit of rage, she rallied a group of friends, stormed into my dorm, and vandalized my room with food waste. "I thought you were my best friend, and here you are, trying to steal my man," she accused. Not only did she live-stream this accusation, trying to paint me as the other woman, but she also spiked my chicken soup, hoping to get rid of my unborn child. In defiance, I poured the contaminated soup over her head. "Just so you know, Rick isn't the only Wilson brother," I retorted. Later, Rayden, the man who controlled Junopia, wrapped his arm around me and declared icily, "I've heard troubling rumors about my wife being called a mistress. We need to talk."

The day before our engagement, Stellan Graves came shopping with me, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. I bought a chili dog from a street stall and held it up to his mouth only for him to swat it out of my hand, sending it flying to the ground. Fury flashed across his face as he snapped, "Ivy Stein, the Graves family needs a woman who can actually show her face in public. Stop buying cheap trash like this. You're embarrassing me. How do you expect my parents to accept you like this?" I picked up the food in humiliation, threw it into the trash, and nodded meekly for the sake of our four years together in college. "As you wish." … However, the very next day, he switched his fiancee to Amelia Lane. "Ivy, Amelia tried to kill herself just to marry me. She's in the hospital now. Once she's stable again, I'll come back and marry you." Four years later, he showed up at my tiny apartment with a diamond ring in hand. "Ivy, Amelia has already agreed to divorce me. We can finally be together. I told you before—once Amelia lets go of her obsession with me and stops hurting herself, I'll come and marry you." I frowned at Stellan's so-called heartfelt expression. I must have had terrible luck that day. Who'd have thought I'd run into this wacko when I'd come back to my place on a whim?! "Move," I demanded, shoving him out the door. "You're blocking the way. I need to pick up my kid from school."

Princess Vionna of Aurenza was dead. She died in the estate of Theron Thornefell, Warden of the North—buried beneath snow and silence. The blizzard raged for seven days before it eased, uncovering her frostbitten body beneath the drifts. Even in death, she was curled around her swollen belly, one arm reaching toward the nearest gates. No one came. She and the unborn child were frozen to death. Left behind. As the cold took her, regret cut deep. She never should've loved him. Never should've bowed. Because of her, the child never saw the sky. If she had another life, she'd never look his way again.

After I suffer from a miscarriage, Jude Dixon, my psychiatrist husband, hypnotizes me and seals my memories so that he can take his depressed patient, Maddie Pittman, on a vacation. For the next three months, Jude and our son, Oliver Dixon, keep Maddie company as they travel around together. Once they are finally done with the vacation, Jude decides to unseal my memories. Once again, I become a mother and a wife. But now, I no longer deal with the household affairs, nor do I nag their ears off. At first, Jude and Oliver think that I'm just trying to attract their attention out of spite by playing hard to get. They don't really care about my change in behavior at all. That is, until they see my post on a forum. "Help! What should I do when my memories are back, but my feelings aren't? Heck, I can't even relate to the past me! Right now, I feel super nervous and awkward whenever I'm in the same room as my husband and son! What should I do? Please help me!"

The nights in Vicente were a coexistence of order and gunfire. Tonight was the wedding, ten years overdue, between Anthony Oliver, the don of the Oliver mafia family, and Mabel Samson, the woman who had stood beside him through bloodshed, betrayals, and underworld wars. A top-tier luxury hotel had been cleared by the family's soldati. Below them glittered a sea of city lights; above them bloomed fireworks commissioned for the future Donna alone. The man known for his ruthlessness knelt on one knee with a rare diamond ring, his eyes filled with rare tenderness. "Mabel," he said, "you walked through hell at my side. Let me give you peace for the rest of your life." It seemed that all the sacrifices and patience had finally led somewhere. However, just as Mabel's fingers were about to touch the ring, a piercing scream came from above. "Don't! Anthony! Save me!" That single cry drew all of Anthony's attention away. The girl was not unfamiliar to Mabel. Two years earlier, Anthony's twin brother had been tortured to death by a rival mafia family while covering his retreat. His body was never recovered. And Cheryl Reyes was the fiancée he had protected with his life. Mabel watched as the man she loved abandoned everything without hesitation and ran toward another woman. She stepped forward and tried to stop him. "Don't go. The wedding isn't over." However, when their eyes met, the Don accused her coldly of being heartless and selfish. And in that moment, Mabel felt tired. Perhaps it was time, just once, to choose herself over the Family.