After My Husband Locked Me Out For His Mistress
The flight was delayed, and it was late by the time I finally returned to the States from my training abroad. I tried calling my husband to pick me up, but all my attempts went unanswered. Frustrated, I ended up taking a cab. On the way, I stumbled across a Facebook post from one of his so-called "close friends."
The photo showed my husband, Ignacio, kneeling and holding her foot. She was wearing a loose, sheer blouse, her bare shoulder exposed, with a conspicuous love bite on her neck. The caption said, "Only a true friend is always there for you."
I commented, "If you like him so much, why not keep him close?"
Moments after posting the comment, Ignacio called me, furious. "Elina, have you lost your mind? Delete that comment right now! Rhea Scott is just a single woman, and your nonsense will make everyone misunderstand."
"You know she sprained her ankle! I was just helping her out.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 2
I remember when Ignacio broke his leg after falling off the scooter. For over three months, I was there, comforting him and making sure he never felt alone. I made chicken noodle soup, beef stew, clam chowder... constantly switching it up to keep things interesting. During that entire period, Rhea never visited him, not even once.
Later, to make it easier for me to drive him to and from work, my parents bought me a car. Once he recovered, the car became his to drive, and that's when Rhea made her reappearance. He started cropping up in Rhea’s Instagram stories more frequently, always ready to jump at her call.
The day I got the overseas training assignment, my supervisor kindly gave me the day off to spend time with my family. I told Ignacio in advance, thinking he might miss me while I was away for so long. But that night, he came home late and had the nerve to call me dramatic, saying it wasn't like we wouldn’t see each other ever again. I thought he was just in a bad mood from working overtime.
Later, through a mutual friend's Instagram story, I discovered that day was Rhea's birthday and Ignacio had been out partying with a bunch of his friends. At that moment, I didn't confront him—because I loved him and believed nothing would happen between them.
When I first went abroad, we kept in touch frequently. But over time, it dwindled to routine updates, and eventually, I was the only one trying to keep the connection alive. This time, when I checked Rhea’s Instagram, I found numerous posts featuring Ignacio. I realized she had been blocking me from these updates all along, only letting me see them once I returned. It finally hit me how wrong I had been.
I've made up my mind—I’m going to divorce Ignacio.
Keep Watching!
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to continue reading
Unlock All Episodes
You may also like
9.5
I first saw him across the crowded ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria, and I knew my life would never be the same. Not because I believed in love at first sight—I didn't—but because Cassius Morgan commanded attention in a way that made the rest of the world fade into background noise. He stood tall and impeccable in a tailored suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, his presence somehow both approachable and untouchable. I was twenty-six, working as a junior event coordinator for the charity gala, making sure the champagne flowed and the seating chart didn't cause any social disasters. I had no business noticing him at all. But I did. 'You look like you could use a drink that isn't from the service bar,' his voice came from behind me, smooth and confident. I turned, startled, and found him holding two crystal tumblers of amber liquid. His eyes—a piercing gray-blue that seemed to see straight through me—held mine without wavering. 'I'm Cassius.
8.8
The crystal chandeliers of the Plaza Hotel's Grand Ballroom cast a golden glow over the Winter Gala, illuminating three hundred of New York's corporate elite in their finest evening wear. I adjusted a centerpiece of white roses and silver branches, my fingers trembling slightly as I scanned the room for any imperfections. As Brand Ambassador for Hart Enterprises, the success of this event fell on my shoulders—even if my name appeared nowhere on the program. Across the room, Lucien stood with his arm wrapped possessively around Lilith's waist, both of them laughing with the CEO of Meridian Technologies. Lucien's tuxedo was impeccably tailored, emphasizing the broad shoulders I once traced with my fingertips in the darkness of his apartment, before he was CEO, before Lilith. Before everything changed. 'There you are, Alyssa.' Lilith's voice cut through my thoughts as she approached, her crimson gown flowing behind her like spilled blood against the marble floor. 'You look... tired.'
I forced a smile. 'Just ensuring everything is perfect for tonight's presentations.'
'Always so dedicated.' Her words dripped with honey, but her eyes remained cold.
8.3
He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms. "Last chance to run," he said, voice low."I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms."You're soaking," he muttered. "Virgin or not, your pussy wants this."I moaned, looking away, couldn't help it,"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly."Fuck," he groaned. "So tight."He fucked me like he was claiming something. "Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster."Damien," I cried out his name as I came."That's it," he growled. After a long minute he pulled out slowly. "One night," he said again, almost like a reminder....weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school. A massive portrait stared back at me.Damien BlackwoodPrincipal Benefactor and OwnerColumbia University.Same man who'd just taken my virginity for money. My stomach dropped. "Oh fuck... what have I done?"
8.3
The crystal chandeliers of the Washington Foundation ballroom cast a golden glow across the sea of designer gowns and tailored suits. I stood beside Sterling at the podium, his hand gripping mine with practiced affection as he addressed Manhattan's elite. Five years of marriage had taught me to perfect my smile, to ignore the slight pressure of his fingers that always bordered on painful. "We gather tonight to honor those we've lost," Sterling's voice carried across the hushed crowd, his charm on full display. "To remember that even in darkness, we can create light."
I felt his thumb brush against my wedding ring, a gesture that once made my heart flutter but now sent ice through my veins. Five years of subtle cruelties disguised as love had trained me well. I knew my role: the devoted wife who stood by his side, grateful he had married me despite the scandal of supposedly abandoning my best friend to die in a fire. The doors at the back of the ballroom swung open. At first, I thought it was just a late guest. Then the whispers started, rippling through the crowd like wind through tall grass.
9.0
The heart wants what it wants, but sometimes it's not what it seems. In the high-fashion world of glamor and betrayal, small-town girl Riele sets out to heal the broken heart of billionaire CEO Kim. But her plan backfires when she finds herself falling for him, only to have her love rejected.
Now, as Riele struggles to untangle her feelings for Kim and the truth about his past, she must navigate a treacherous path of secrets, lies, and hidden desires.
But just when Riele thinks she's lost Kim forever, she discovers that his love for her rival, Jane, might not be what it seems.
With her heart on the line, Riele must decide whether to fight for the man she loves or walk away from the pain and heartbreak that come with loving him.
And Kim, tormented by his past and uncertain about his future, must confront the truth about his feelings for both women.
Will he choose the safe, familiar path with Jane or take a chance on the unexpected passion that Riele ignites within him?
8.1
The scent of bergamot and spun sugar was the first betrayal. It was too young, too cloying, and it clung to the lapel of Sterling’s bespoke Tom Ford coat like a parasite. I had followed that scent, followed the midnight text chimes that lit up our darkened bedroom with a sickly blue glow, all the way to the gilded awning of the Waldorf Astoria. Rain slicked my windshield, distorting the streetlights into jagged halos. Through the rhythmic, frantic sweep of the wipers, I watched my husband of five years—the man who had once promised me the world on the sagging mattress of a cramped college dorm—press his intern, Georgia Morris, against a marble pillar. His hands, the very hands that had poured my coffee that morning, were tangled greedily in her blonde hair. My fingers curled into my palms until crescent moons bled into my skin. Slowly, they drifted down to rest flat against my lower abdomen. *Pregnant.* The word was a fragile, terrifying secret I had planned to whisper to him tonight. A sharp metallic tang coated my tongue as I bit the inside of my cheek.