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 5

The sterile scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils. My head throbbed. I opened my eyes to the soft hum of hospital machinery. Celeste. My best friend, Celeste, was sitting by my bed, her face pale, her eyes red and swollen.

"Elenora," she whispered, her voice choked with tears. She reached for my hand, her grip firm. "Thank God. You're awake."

"Celeste," my voice was weak, barely a croak. "What happened?"

She squeezed my hand. "You miscarried, Elenora. You lost the baby."

The words hung in the air, a devastating confirmation. The last shred of hope, the last tether to a future that could have been, was severed. I closed my eyes, a single tear tracing a path down my temple. The pain was dull now, a phantom ache in my womb, but the grief was a gaping wound.

I told her everything. The coffee shop, the gala, the public humiliation, Leo's cruelty, Karin's malice, Arthur' s monstrous betrayal. Every agonizing detail spilled out, a torrent of poison.

Celeste listened, her face hardening with every word. When I finished, she was shaking with a quiet fury. "That bastard," she hissed, her eyes blazing. "That manipulative, narcissistic monster. And that woman... Karin. She's a psychopath."

A strange calm settled over me. There was no going back. No reconciliation. No forgiveness. Arthur had destroyed everything, including a life we had created, unknowingly.

He never came to the hospital. Not once. No call, no text, no flowers. Nothing. It was as if I had ceased to exist the moment I fell on that stage.

A week later, still physically weak but mentally resolute, I walked out of the hospital. Celeste was by my side, a silent, unwavering pillar of support. My first stop was Clara's office. The divorce papers were ready. I signed them, my hand steady, my heart cold.

Two days later, I found myself parked in a discreet black car near Leo Beasley's elite preschool. My plan was simple: show Karin I was still a threat, still a presence.

Leo emerged, skipping, his small backpack bouncing. He saw me. His smile vanished, replaced by a sneer. "Ugly lady!" he yelled, "You're still alive? Daddy said you went away forever!" Another calculated jab, straight from his mother's playbook.

Then Karin appeared, sleek and predatory, her eyes immediately locking onto mine. She strode towards my car, her heels clicking sharply on the pavement. "What do you want, Elenora?" she snarled, her voice low and dangerous. "Stalking my son now? Haven't you done enough damage?"

"Damage?" I replied, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "I want you to sign these, Karin." I held up the divorce papers, neatly folded in a pristine white envelope. "And then I want you to leave me alone. Forever."

She snatched the envelope, her eyes scanning the documents. "Oh, Elenora," she purred, a wicked glint in her eyes. "You think this changes anything? You think you can just walk away with half of Arthur's fortune?"

She pulled out her phone and showed me a picture. It was my beautiful custom-made piano, shattered into a thousand pieces, tossed carelessly onto a dirt pile. My compositions, torn and scattered like confetti. "A little housewarming gift," she said, a triumphant smile on her face. "Leo helped. He's very strong for his age."

My breath hitched. My music. My solace. My sanctuary. Destroyed by them.

"You really want to play this game, Elenora?" she continued, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "Because I can play much, much dirtier. That little 'accident' at the gala? That was just a preview. Leo was very clear about his wish." She leaned closer, her eyes glittering with unhinged malice. "He wished you would disappear. And I made sure he got his wish."

My blood ran cold. The miscarriage. It wasn't an accident. It was deliberate. Orchestrated.

"I called your doctor, Elenora," she confessed, her voice a chilling whisper, devoid of any remorse. "I convinced them to give you certain 'medications' that would ensure your 'stress-induced' miscarriage. It was so easy. Nobody questions a stressed-out woman, especially when her husband is so 'distraught'." She laughed, a low, guttural sound. "Arthur had no idea, of course. He's so easily manipulated. He thought he was protecting his 'fragile' wife."

The world tilted. My vision tunneled. She hadn't just destroyed my marriage, my career, my sanity. She had murdered my child. Deliberately. With a smile.

The depth of her evil was a bottomless abyss. I stared at her, my mind reeling, my heart a hollow, echoing shell. My baby. Gone. Because of her.

A strange, cold calm settled over me. There was nothing left to lose. No more hope to cling to. Only a chilling resolve. The pain was still there, but it was distant now, overshadowed by a fierce, burning clarity.

I would mourn. But I would not break.

Continue to next part

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 5

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