I Left When His Mistress Became His Bride
After my parents died in a fire, our neighbor, Kolson Kennedy, became my guardian. He cared for me for a decade. In a moment of weakness fueled by alcohol, I became his secret lover for five years. I thought we might finally become a real couple when I saw the diamond ring on his desk. But then, I overheard him confessing his love to Dayana Larson as he held her close, saying, "Leah's like a sister to me. You're the only one I want to marry." "If she's a problem, I can find a way to let her go." Heartbroken, I stood in the rain and tore apart the pregnancy test results I held, choosing to liberate myself and them. The windshield wipers battled against the storm, barely revealing the blurred road ahead. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my wet clothes clinging to me uncomfortably. Today was the day I intended to tell Kolson I was pregnant. Previously, I would have handled it quietly, since after five years, he never intended to give me any official status.
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Chapter 2
A deafening crash shattered my world, sending everything spiraling out of control.
When the airbags deployed, I could almost hear the unsettling crunch of bones. Pain surged through me like an unforgiving wave, and my ears rang incessantly. Mustering what little strength I had left, I dialed Kolson Kennedy’s number. When the call connected, it felt like I was clutching my last lifeline.
“Help me…”
“Stop bothering me.” His cold response plunged my heart into despair. My consciousness began to blur.
When I came to, all I saw was the blinding white light and the shadows of people moving around me.
“Have you reached her family? This is a serious accident; we need a relative’s signature!”
“I’ve tried several times, but no one is answering.”
“She’s pregnant – the baby…”
“Use another number, keep trying! We can't ignore this!” Dr. Neil Wilson insisted urgently.
I felt my life slipping away and my consciousness fading. In the haze, Kolson’s impatient voice cut through.
“What’s going on?”
“Mr. Kennedy, this is Neil Wilson from the city hospital.”
"Leah Snyder, Miss Snyder was in a serious car accident, and she’s in critical condition. We need you to come to the hospital."
“Is she faking an accident to get away for a few days?”
“I’m not going! If she wants to die, let her die! Leah, I’ve spoiled you too much!”
“I’m busy now. Even if it’s a matter of life and death, don’t bother me!”
Kolson’s voice faded, leaving my heart cold. Turns out my life meant so little to him.
I heard the doctor’s urgent plea beside me: “You must survive for your child too! He shielded you from the worst of it; you can’t give up now.”
With every ounce of strength, I opened my eyes: “I... I’ll sign it myself…”
The doctor looked surprised but quickly nodded: “Alright! Prepare for surgery!”
The operation was a success; I survived, but the child was lost. I lay in the hospital for a week without a call or message from Kolson, as if he’d completely forgotten about me. Meanwhile, Marianna Woods’s social media buzzed constantly, displaying a stream of affectionate posts.
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8.2
I stood at the altar, my fingers trembling slightly as they clutched my bouquet of white roses and lilies. The garden-themed venue was exactly as I'd dreamed—fairy lights twinkled among strategically placed greenery, transforming the upscale Manhattan ballroom into an enchanted forest. I'd spent months planning every detail, from the cascading ivy on the archway to the delicate floral centerpieces that adorned each table. My father, Marco, stood proudly beside me, his warm hand steady on mine. I caught his eye and he gave me a reassuring smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with joy. He looked handsome in his tailored tuxedo, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed for the occasion. "You look beautiful, mi hija," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Ryan is a lucky man."
I squeezed his hand in response, too overwhelmed to speak. The string quartet played softly in the background, and the afternoon sunlight streamed through the venue's floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow over the assembled guests. I scanned the crowd, searching for Ryan's familiar face among the sea of smiling attendees.
7.3
I signed my own divorce papers thinking they were an investment in our future.
Craig handed me the stack of documents with a smile, telling me it was to secure assets for our unborn children. I trusted him more than gravity, so I didn't read the fine print.
Hours later, at his promotion party, I watched him announce his engagement to Chanel, the company heiress.
I rushed to check the folder I had signed. It wasn't a trust fund. It was a complete dissolution of our marriage.
I received no alimony. He kept the house and the stocks. And the box for "no child visitation" was already checked.
The cruelest twist came the next morning. I stared at a pregnancy test with two pink lines.
I was pregnant with the child of a man who had just tricked me into a divorce and called me "dead weight" in a text to his mistress.
When I tried to disappear and rebuild my life, Craig didn't let me go. His ego couldn't handle my silence.
He kidnapped me, locking me in a warehouse to "fix" our marriage, delusional enough to believe we could be a happy family after he caused me to lose the baby.
I thought I would die in that cold, dark room.
Then, a truck rammed through the wall, engulfed in flames.
Felix, the quiet assistant I had barely noticed for five years, walked through the fire to get me.
As he carried me out of the burning wreckage, leaving Craig behind, I realized he wasn't just an employee.
He had been waiting to save me all along.
9.8
I sat in the VIP waiting room of the fertility clinic, clutching the report that confirmed my implantation was a success. After years of struggling, I finally had a reason to make my marriage with Garnett work.
But when I went to find him in the lounge, I heard a woman’s laughter coming from behind the door. It was his mistress, Alison. I froze as I heard Garnett’s cold, dismissive voice.
"She’s just an incubator."
"Once the heir is born, we kick her out. The trust fund only requires a legitimate heir born to my wife. It doesn't require the wife to stick around afterwards."
The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. I soon discovered the clinic had botched the procedure—the baby I was carrying wasn't even Garnett’s. It was donor sperm from Sterling Sharp, the most powerful tech mogul in the world.
When my in-laws forced me to move into their estate for "monitoring," I realized I was entering a cage. Garnett and his mistress were paying the family doctor to inject me with hallucinogens to mimic a mental breakdown. They planned to declare me legally incompetent and commit me to an asylum the second I gave birth.
I stood in the shadows of the East Wing, realizing my husband wasn't just stealing my child—he was trying to delete my mind. The people I called family were poisoning me daily, waiting for me to break so they could claim a legacy that wasn't even theirs.
They wanted a madwoman, so I decided to give them one. I turned the doctor into my double agent, faked every symptom of a breakdown, and began building a secret empire from the shadows. Garnett thinks he’s trapped an incubator, but he’s actually locked himself in with a nuclear weapon.
8.8
On the eve of my glamorous Waldorf Astoria wedding, I went to the penthouse to surprise my fiancé, Hugh, wearing my late mother's heirloom pearls.
Instead, I heard my stepsister's familiar laugh and caught them tangled together on the sofa.
Through the cracked door, I heard Hugh slur that he was only marrying me for my family's financial backing.
"As soon as I secure my inheritance, she's the first thing I'm getting rid of," he promised her.
Floy giggled and asked for my mother's pearl necklace, my only legacy. Hugh agreed without hesitation, mocking my dead mother's naivety and my desperate dreams of building a family.
Every sweet word he had ever said was a lie, a knife he had been patiently sliding between my ribs for years. They planned to strip me of everything the moment I signed the prenup.
I didn't cry or scream. The crushing weight of their betrayal hollowed me out, leaving behind a terrifying, absolute calm.
Why should I be the one to lose everything while they stole my future and insulted my mother's memory?
I calmly walked down the hall, set the prenuptial agreement on fire, and vanished into the rainy night.
If Hugh wanted to play dirty for the Maxwell empire, I would play for keeps.
Using a forgotten, century-old family covenant, I was going to marry Hugh's uncle-the comatose, paralyzed war hero, Fleet Maxwell.
I would return not as a naive bride, but as their worst nightmare: his aunt, and the new lady of the house.
7.7
Aida's life is already complicated.
A controlling boyfriend.
A job that drains her.
A heart tired of giving more than it gets.
So the last thing she expects is Mike-the quiet, handsome "new trainee" who walks into the office with a mysterious calm and an unexpected kindness.
He's humble. Soft-spoken. Nothing like the men she's used to.
But something about him feels... different.
Dangerous.
Safe.
All at once.
As their friendship blooms, jealous eyes begin to watch.
Whispers spread.
Fake friends interfere.
And even Mike's family stands against them.
Two hearts drawn to each other.
One relationship already falling apart.
Secrets that can destroy everything.
In a company filled with gossip, power, and hidden agendas,
Aida and Mike must decide-
is this friendship worth the risk?
Or will the growing tension ruin them before they even begin?
9.2
I smoothed my hands over the burgundy tablecloth, adjusting the centerpiece of autumn leaves and candles one last time. The Johnston family Thanksgiving dinner was always a formal affair, and as Clyde's wife, perfection was expected of me. The dining room looked immaculate—crystal glasses catching the light, fine china precisely placed, name cards in elegant calligraphy. Everything was ready except for one thing: my husband was nowhere to be found. "Has anyone seen Clyde?" I asked, forcing a smile as I addressed his parents seated in the living room. "We're almost ready to serve."
"I believe he went to his study to take a call," Richard Johnston replied without looking up from his newspaper, his voice carrying that perpetual tone of disinterest he reserved for me. I nodded and slipped away from the gathering. The hallway to Clyde's study felt unusually long today, my heels clicking against the hardwood like a countdown. I placed my hand on the ornate doorknob, hesitating only briefly before turning it. The door opened silently, revealing a scene that instantly shattered my world.