My Husband Chose His Mistress
The day our son died, Princeton was at the airport, picking up the love of his life as she returned from abroad. Meanwhile, I was at the hospital, fighting late-stage brain cancer, inching closer to death. The unyielding pain of my condition was relentless, yet at that very moment, Princeton was out to dinner with her. In these last few months of my life, I continued to act as his devoted and gentle wife, watching him leave early and return late each day, always in a hurry to be with someone else. It wasn't until after I was gone that he finally read the journal I had left for him, and he completely broke down. At the funeral, Princeton never appeared. Our lively little boy had been reduced to a handful of ash, buried deep in the cold, damp earth. The guests, mainly attending out of obligation to the Foster family's name, paid little attention to me, whispering among themselves. "At such an important event, where is Princeton? I thought he cared about his family."
"Oh, please.
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Chapter 10
Driving back home, tears blurred my vision and streamed down my face.
Haunting images raced through my mind: Skyla's blood-soaked body, my mother's departure, and Zuri Morgan’s triumphant smirk.
I felt like a volcano on the brink of eruption, pressure building inside me. Once home, I flung the birthday gift I had prepared for Princeton onto the floor, watching it shatter into pieces.
Anger surged through me, planting seeds of resentment deep in my heart. The wedding photo on the wall, where I seemed to be the only one smiling, mocked my failures and made me feel utterly foolish.
I grabbed a kitchen knife and thrust it down, the sharp blade slicing between us.
It tore everything apart, mirroring how our relationship had become irreparably shattered. Madness swept over me, and I dragged the knife across my arm with force.
Crimson drops splattered onto the floor, a sharp pain shooting through me, but it still felt insufficient.
As I contemplated cutting deeper, my gaze fell upon Skyla's photograph, his joyful smile beaming back at me.
In that moment, my heart wavered, my hand trembling with indecision over whether to continue or to let go.
In a haze, I imagined Skyla running towards me, arms wide open, sweetly calling for his mom.
Ultimately, I chose to set the knife down.
Skyla was always so perceptive; from the moment he joined our family, he sensed the tension between Princeton and me.
Even at his young age, he tried to mend our relationship, never giving up, even when faced with Princeton's cold demeanor.
Looking at Skyla’s photo, the turmoil within me finally settled.
Self-harm offered no relief, only leaving a scar that would never truly heal.
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9.5
Trisha Reynolds, a poor, struggling social worker in her mid-twenties, is caught in a web; her mother is under investigation for criminal fraud, and her younger brother is dying of cancer.
Desperate to save her brother and get liberation for her mother, she agrees to a marriage deal with famous, ruthless billionaire, Lucian Cross. A business tycoon and billionaire heir of the Cross Dynasty.
But Trisha is hiding a deadly secret.
She's pregnant with another man's child, a man who vanished without a trace after a one-night stand together.
But Trisha doesn't know that the father of her unborn child isn't just any man.
As Trisha and Lucian’s marriage deal turns dangerously real, the past comes crashing back, and Trisha is at risk of losing everything—including the man she was never supposed to love.
Can love rewrite their fates, or will her secret bring their worlds crashing down?
9.5
My boyfriend, Jefferson, convinced me to give up my Yale scholarship for him. He was my secret, my escape from the shame of my mother's past, and I threw away my future for our love.
Then, at a gala, he publicly announced his engagement to Aubrey Carroll-the girl who made my high school years a living hell.
He trapped me in his mansion, forcing me to become her personal servant. She tortured me daily, culminating in her brutally killing our dog, Charlie, with a garden trowel.
When her friends arrived, they joined in, stripping me half-naked and live-streaming my panic attack for the world to see.
The man who once promised to protect me watched as they destroyed me.
But as I lay bleeding out on the floor, it wasn't an ambulance that arrived. It was the private security of Alexzander Stevens-my estranged, billionaire grandfather.
He revealed I was his sole heiress, and now, we were going to make them pay for every last tear.
9.5
"You f*cking recorded me Drego?!"
I stood naked, my hands shivering as I stared at the little camera in my hands, still beeping. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Aggravated, I slammed the camera to the ground, shattering it into pieces.
"I trusted you! I let you in." My voice crackled. "So all these were your plans right? To fuck and film me?!"
"Elena, listen… pls hear me out…" he tried to explain.
"GET OUT!" I yelled.
He grabbed my arm, but I backed away immediately.
"I never want to see you again. You’re sick, and need help!!!"
***
Hi, I’m Elena Stone, and my life right now is a mess.
My father forced me into marrying a stranger to save his company from bankruptcy. Two weeks after signing five years of my life away to be married to David Knights, I discovered he had an identical twin, Drego. One night Drego disguised as David, fucked me, the best sex I had ever had all my life. Not only did he fuck me, he filmed me.
What started as a mistake turns into an obsession. Drego is reckless, dangerous, and devastatingly good in bed— the kind of man who ruins you and leaves you begging for more. I tried to bury this secret, but everything crumbled when I learned that Drego is already entangled with Cindy, my high school best friend.
And yes, Cindy barged into me and him on one of those unplanned lustful nights, and she had sworn to ruin me. Trust me, she’s not one to mince words.
With my dignity and sanity at stake, I’m fixed on saving my marriage with David, letting go of my obsession with Drego, and rekindling my friendship with Cindy. Will any of these be possible? Find out!
9.8
The rain hammered against the hospital windows like accusations, each drop a reminder of how quickly everything could shatter. I pressed my palms against the cold glass of the waiting room, watching the parking lot blur through my tears as I waited for news about Lily. "Mrs. Griffin?" The nurse's voice cut through my haze. "We've been trying to reach your husband for over an hour. Is there another number we can try?"
My phone buzzed in my trembling hands—another missed call from Elias's assistant. I'd already called him six times since the school contacted me about the accident. Each ring went straight to voicemail, that familiar recorded message mocking me with its professional politeness. "He's... he's dealing with an emergency," I managed, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.
8.9
The mahogany doors of Dominick's office felt colder than usual beneath my fingertips as I pushed them open, clutching the folder of business documents that required both our signatures. The quarterly reports needed to be filed by morning, and I'd promised to handle it personally. "Mrs. Black," Dominick's assistant jumped up from her desk, her eyes darting nervously between me and the elevator. "I didn't expect you back so soon."
I froze mid-step. "Mrs. Black?"
"Yes, she just left." The young woman's fingers twisted together. "I thought you knew she was coming."
My heart stuttered. "There must be some mistake. I'm Mrs.
8.5
"The child is mine."
My husband, the Capo of the Chicago Outfit, announced to the world, his hand resting protectively on his mistress's stomach.
He was lying to save her life, but in doing so, he signed the death warrant for the baby growing inside me.
Just hours before, I had finally gotten the positive test we had prayed for over five years.
But Dante chose to claim a traitor's bastard as his heir.
When I tried to confront him, he dismissed me cold-heartedly.
"It's a strategic lie, Elena. You aren't pregnant, so it doesn't matter."
He didn't know.
Later, when an accident left his mistress critical, he dragged me to the hospital.
He forced me to donate my blood to save her, ignoring my ghostly pallor.
He didn't know I was already bleeding out.
He didn't know I had just come from the clinic, where I had removed the "complication" he made me feel ashamed of.
He thought he was being noble.
He didn't realize he was killing his own son to save another man's lie.
On the night of the gala celebrating his "heir," I left a white box on his desk and vanished.
Inside was a medical report: *Termination of Pregnancy. 8 Weeks. Father: Dante Moretti.*
By the time he read it, I was already gone.