Husband's Lies, Mistress's Son

My world crumbled when I saw my husband, Arthur, across the street with his mistress, Karin, and a son who was his spitting image. For years, he' d told me he wasn' t ready for a family. It was all a lie. But the true horror began at my own awards ceremony. Karin' s son, coached to hate me, rushed the stage and attacked me. The assault caused me to miscarry the baby Arthur swore he never wanted. As I lay bleeding on the stage, my husband didn't help. He shoved me aside, his eyes blazing with fury. "You monster!" he roared, scooping up his son and leaving me shattered in front of everyone. Later, Karin cornered me, her voice a triumphant whisper. "I made sure you'd lose the baby." Then, she pushed me off a cliff into the churning ocean below. But I didn't die. A fisherman pulled me from the water, broken but alive. As the world mourned the "accidental drowning" of Elenora Dawson, I made a call to the Vienna Conservatory. "I accept."

Chapters

Chapter 4

The makeup artist, a young woman named Chloe, delicately applied the finishing touches to my look. The deep emerald dress shimmered, hugging my curves, a stark contrast to the pale, fragile woman I had been. My hair, usually pulled back in a neat bun, cascaded in loose, elegant waves around my shoulders. I looked at my reflection. A stranger stared back. A stronger, colder woman. A woman ready for war.

Arthur arrived, his eyes widening. "Elenora," he breathed, a genuine admiration in his voice. "You look... incredible." He reached for my hand, but I subtly pulled it away.

"Thank you, Arthur," I said, my voice cool, distant.

We walked into the ballroom, a symphony of hushed whispers and polite applause. He played the part of the doting husband perfectly, his hand lightly on my back, his smiles charming, his eyes scanning for important faces. He basked in the reflected glow of my musical achievements, pretending he was the supportive partner who had made it all possible.

But the victory felt hollow. Contaminated. Every compliment, every congratulatory handshake, felt like a joke. A cruel, elaborate charade he had forced me into.

The lights dimmed. The host stepped onto the stage. "And now, for the moment we've all been waiting for! The recipient of this year's prestigious Golden Baton Award for Classical Composition, Elenora Dawson!"

The applause was deafening. I walked towards the stage, a practiced smile on my face. This was my moment. My hard-won recognition.

Then, a sudden, high-pitched shriek pierced the air. Leo. He burst onto the stage, a tiny whirlwind of chaos. He ran straight for the microphone, grabbing it with both hands.

"My Daddy's wife is mean!" he yelled, his voice amplified, echoing through the stunned silence of the ballroom. "She tries to take Daddy away from me and Mommy! She doesn't deserve a prize!"

The crowd gasped. Murmurs erupted, shocked whispers filling the elegant space. Karin, from the front row, rushed forward, feigning distress. "Oh, Leo, darling, you shouldn't say such things!" Her eyes, however, gleamed with malicious satisfaction.

Leo turned to me, his small face contorted in a terrifying mimicry of adult rage. "Give me your prize, ugly lady! It's mine! Daddy says I'm the best, not you!" He pointed at the shiny golden baton held by the host.

"Leo, no," I said softly, my voice barely audible above the rising clamor. My heart was pounding, a sickening rhythm against my ribs. This wasn't happening.

He lunged for the baton, his small, strong hands grabbing at my fingers. I held on tight; this was mine, the symbol of my life's work.

He whimpered, then bit my hand. Hard. A sharp, searing pain shot through me. I cried out, instinctively pulling my hand back. The golden baton clattered to the stage floor.

Chaos erupted. People were on their feet, shouting. Leo, seeing his chance, kicked me in the shin. A vicious, premeditated strike.

"Elenora, what have you done?!" Arthur's voice, thick with rage, roared beside me. He pushed me aside, roughly, as if I were a mere obstacle. His eyes, usually so charming, were blazing with fury. Not at Leo. Not at Karin. At me.

He knelt beside Leo, scooping the boy into his arms. "Are you okay, champ? Did she hurt you?" He glared at me, his face contorted in disgust. "You monster!"

I stumbled backward, the pain in my hand and shin nothing compared to the searing ache in my chest. He had just assaulted me. In front of everyone. For them.

Karin was there, her arm linked through Arthur's, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. She leaned in, her voice a poisonous whisper in my ear. "See? He'll always choose his real family, Elenora. Always."

Arthur, with Leo safe in his arms and Karin clinging to his side, turned and strode out of the ballroom, leaving me shattered and exposed on the stage. As they disappeared, Leo craned his neck, sticking out his tongue and making a grotesque face at me. The malicious glee in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine.

A sudden, blinding pain shot through my head. Then, a dull ache spread through my lower abdomen. A sickening warmth blossomed between my legs. My dress, once emerald green, was now stained crimson.

No. No, this couldn't be happening.

My vision swam. The faces in the crowd blurred. The beautiful, elegant ballroom spun around me. The golden baton, lying forgotten on the stage, glittered mockingly.

The baby. Our baby. The one he never wanted.

A guttural sob ripped from my throat. A despair so profound, so absolute, consumed me. The world went dark.

I fell. And knew nothing more.

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In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters. I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone. Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate. They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run. As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance. "She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed. "Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back. I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood. Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money. Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start. Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies? Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room. Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever. I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me. This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.

Action Horror Modern Sci-Fi

9.3

Bound By His Obsession, Trapped Forever

9.3

My mate, Theron, was a powerful Alpha, and I, a scentless Omega, was his greatest prize. But beneath his adoring facade was a terrifying, possessive monster, revealed when he dragged me home and forced me into our bed after I was late to his challenge match. His golden eyes burned with chilling control, and he whispered a threat that turned my blood to ice. I'd been stuck on a forest road, my truck dead, racing to reach his challenge match. His mate bond panic had already frayed my nerves, but nothing prepared me for his rage. He'd publicly broken his opponent's shoulder, then stalked directly to me, ignoring the crowd. He marked my lateness with chilling precision, before dragging me away to our rooms for "punishment." Later, as he tried to force a ceremonial marking pendant on me, he promised, "If you will not accept my mark willingly, then I will wait for your Heat. I will fuck you until your body begs for it, and my wolf will hold you down while I bite." My gaze fell on his open journal, filled with frantic, scrawled words: "SHE IS MINE. PUNISH. CLAIM. MARK HER. BREED HER. MAKE HER UNDERSTAND SHE IS MINE. MINE. MINE." The man I loved, my only protection, was a captor in disguise, his devotion a gilded cage. Every gentle touch, every soft word, now felt like a brand of ownership, a tightening leash. The terrifying truth of his pathological obsession finally hit me. A fragile plan formed in the space between heartbeats: I would de-escalate, redefine, and survive, no matter the cost, before his possessive madness consumed me entirely.

Horror Romance Werewolf

9.5

Tethered Spirit: Bound To My Murderer Husband

9.5

My son was dying in my arms, and the man who should have been saving him was likely choosing an engagement ring for another woman. I rushed Jeremy to the Emergency Room, his small body heavy and limp against my chest. But the person blocking the sliding doors wasn’t a doctor. It was Yvonne, my fiancé Benedict's new lover. She looked at my desperate, rain-soaked face and sneered. "Don't ruin my night with your drama," she hissed. "Benedict is busy." She and her brother shoved me back onto the wet floor. My son died on the cold tiles of the entrance. My heart gave out moments later, unable to bear the grief. When Benedict finally walked past our bodies, he didn't even look at our faces. He crumpled up the note I had written begging for help and tossed it into the trash. "Unbelievable," he muttered. "She uses the kid as an excuse to interrupt my shift again." He stepped over his own dead son to go to a party. But I didn't disappear. I became a ghost, invisible and tethered to him by an unbreakable chain. I watched him laugh with the woman who killed us. I watched him live his perfect life while I floated in the void. Until he found the autopsy report. Until he saw the date of birth. Until he found the broken locket in the evidence bag engraved with *Benedict & Ava*. Now, he spends every night crying into the dark, begging for a forgiveness he will never get. He thinks he is simply haunted. He has no idea he is paying a blood debt that will never end.

Horror Modern Romance

7.7

The Cursed Story

7.7

During a college retreat, we hosted a storytelling competition. They just kept egging me on, completely oblivious to the terrifying disaster it would invite. I said, "The story I'm about to tell is a curse." "Everyone who has ever heard this story has died." "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

Fantasy Horror Young Adult

7.0

The Disposable Bride's Deadly Secret Identity

7.0

My debt-ridden uncle sold me to the Romero mafia family to save his own skin. I was forced to marry Emiliano Romero, a man known to the underworld as "The Ghost"—a rumored monster who supposedly tore his last two caretakers apart. My aunt and cousin delighted in my misery. My cousin came at me with a razor, leaving a nasty bruise on my face, while my aunt bleached my hair to make me look like a cheap, disposable doll. When the Romeros arrived, they didn't even pretend to want a daughter-in-law. "The Family needs a nobody whose death won't start a police report." They just wanted a clueless victim to sign a pre-nup and die quietly. They shoved me down a sterile hallway and locked me inside a fortified, padded cell with a man wrapped in heavy chains. They all thought they were sacrificing a helpless, terrified lamb to a madman. They laughed at my tears, completely convinced I was just gutter trash waiting to be slaughtered. But they had no idea I was a highly trained undercover operative. Listening to their arrogant whispers, the pieces finally clicked. Emiliano wasn't a deranged killer—he was a prisoner being drugged and framed by his own blood. I drained my uncle's bank account to buy a neurotoxin antidote, dropped my pathetic, trembling disguise, and stepped calmly into the monster's cage. I wasn't here to be their victim. I was here to save him.

Horror Mafia Mystery

7.4

The Genius Doctor's Perfect Fake Death

7.4

To escape my psychopathic, controlling lover, I faked my death in a Syrian war zone. Thirty-seven reconstructive surgeries later, the terrified girl he kept locked in a basement was gone. I returned to New York as an untouchable neurosurgeon, Dr. Alivia Clay. I only came back to save his grandfather—the one man who helped me escape. I thought my flawless new face was the perfect armor. But the moment Collis Duncan saw me, he cornered me against the hospital wall. He didn't recognize my face, but he recognized my panic. He trapped me in his arms, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla and orange blossom on my skin. "You smell exactly like a ghost I used to know," he whispered. Worse, a traumatized, mute little boy with Collis's exact gray eyes stumbled into me in the hallway. The boy clutched my white coat and handed me a flashcard with a crude drawing of a woman. "Mama." My blood turned to ice. Five years ago, I was told my newborn baby burned to ashes in that medical tent. How could this boy be alive? Why did Collis have my son while I mourned a pile of dust? Now, Collis is ordering a microscopic background check, desperate to tear my fake life to the ground and cage me again. But I'm not running anymore. Once I finish this surgery, I'm taking my son back.

Action Horror Modern

Husband's Lies, Mistress's Son

Chapter 4

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