His Mistress,His Secret

His Mistress,His Secret

T.R

5.0
Comment(s)
View
55
Chapters

He claimed her once. Now he's back to claim everything she's hiding. Elena Rossi built her life on silence and sacrifice. By day, she works endless shifts to keep the lights on. By night, she watches over her fragile daughter,the only reason she keeps breathing. Love is a wound she swore never to reopen, and her past is a shadow she refuses to face. Until Adrian Moretti returns. Once her first love, now a feared mafia boss, Adrian walks back into her world with the same storm-gray eyes that once undid her. He wants Elena back, and Adrian Moretti doesn't ask. He takes. But Elena has a secret. A secret she has guarded with her life. A secret with his blood. Now Adrian's presence threatens to unravel everything she's built. His power, his obsession, his relentless pursuit draw her closer to the fire she barely escaped once before. And as passion collides with danger, Elena faces an impossible choice: surrender to the man who broke her... or risk losing the one thing she cannot live without.

Chapter 1 Broken Nights

The bar smelled of beer and sweat. The kind of smell that clung to your hair even after you showered, stubborn and sour. I hated it here. Hated the sticky floors, the flickering neon lights, the way the air always felt heavy with too many unspoken things. But I kept showing up.

Bills didn't care about pride, and medicine sure as hell wasn't free.

Balancing a tray of drinks, I forced a smile at the men waiting at the corner table. My cheeks hurt from pretending. I laughed at their crude jokes, let them call me "sweetheart", and when one of them "accidentally" brushed my arm, I swallowed the anger that clawed at my throat and kept moving.

Losing this job wasn't an option.

Every coin, every tip, already had a name on it. Rent. Food. Medicine. My daughter's medicine.

My phone buzzed in my apron pocket, a vibration I felt more than heard over the pounding music and drunken laughter. I slipped it out when no one was watching. A text glowed on the cracked screen from Mrs. Ada, my neighbor who watched my daughter at night.

She coughed again. The fever's still there. Should I call a doctor?

My throat tightened. I quickly typed back, fingers trembling: No. Just keep her cool. I'll be home soon.

Home.

The word always felt strange. It wasn't warmth or comfort. It was a cramped apartment with peeling paint, a broken heater that rattled all night, and a bed too small for the both of us. But it was hers-my little girl's. The only reason I was still breathing.

I shoved the phone away and plastered on another smile as a customer waved me over. The clock above the counter ticked more slowly than my heartbeat. Midnight couldn't come fast enough.

Hours dragged. The jukebox cycled through the same three old rock ballads. The floor grew stickier with each spill. And still, the men laughed louder, their eyes heavier, their hands bolder.

By the time the bar finally emptied, my feet were screaming. My back ached. My palms were raw from scrubbing glasses. But I told myself the same thing I always did: Just one more day. Just hold on one more day.

I grabbed my coat from the rack, nodded at my boss, and slipped out the back door.

The alley behind the bar was narrow and damp, littered with cigarette butts and broken bottles. The cold night air stung my face as I wrapped the coat tight around me and started walking. The streets were quiet, too quiet. My steps echoed louder than they should have.

"Where are you rushing off to, sweetheart?"

I froze.

Three men stepped out of the shadows, blocking my way. Their smiles were sharp, their eyes mean. The stink of alcohol clung to them like a second skin.

"I don't want trouble," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady even though my heart was thudding so hard I could feel it in my ears.

They laughed, a sound without humor. One moved closer, the metal buckle of his belt glinting under the flickering streetlamp. "Pretty girl like you, out here alone? That's trouble already."

I gripped my bag tighter. If I ran, they'd chase me. If I screamed, no one would hear.

The tallest one reached for my arm. I jerked back, but he was quicker than I expected. His fingers grazed my wrist and bile rose in my throat.

"Let me go!" My voice cracked, weak with fear. I swallowed and tried again, stronger this time. "I said move!"

They only laughed harder. The sound bounced off the alley walls, ugly and cruel, wrapping around me until I couldn't breathe.

He reached again, and this time his hand closed around my wrist, rough and unyielding.

I twisted, tried to pull away, panic clawing up my chest. Images of my daughter's face flashed in my mind, her small hands clinging to me, her voice whispering Mama. What if I didn't make it home tonight? Who would care for her? Who would fight for her?

Then-

"Step away."

The voice cut through the night like a blade. Low. Cold. Commanding.

The men stiffened. One cursed under his breath. Another's grip faltered, loosening just enough for me to yank my hand free.

"Who the hell-" the tall one started, but his words died in his throat.

Because out of the shadows, he appeared.

He walked forward with the kind of presence that bent the air around him. Broad shoulders, black suit, the faint glint of a watch on his wrist. His stride was measured, his gaze sharp, and even in the dim light I could see the dangerous half-smile tugging at his lips.

My breath caught in my chest.

Adrian Moretti.

My first love. My biggest mistake. My ruin.

I hadn't seen him in years. Hadn't let myself think of him, not really. It was too dangerous. Too painful. But my body remembered him instantly, every nerve screaming at once.

The men faltered under his stare. Something about him-the suit, the watch, the lethal calm was enough to make them step back, muttering. Within seconds, they melted into the darkness, their laughter dying in their throats.

And suddenly, it was just him and me in that narrow alley, the silence thick as smoke.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his eyes. Those stormy gray eyes that hadn't changed at all. Eyes that had once whispered promises I was foolish enough to believe.

"Hello, Elena."

His voice slid over me, smooth and dangerous, stirring memories I'd buried deep.

My knees nearly buckled. My throat went dry.

It had been years-years since I'd sworn I'd never see him again. Never let him close enough to burn me.

Yet here he was. Standing in front of me like a ghost I could never bury.

And the look on his face told me one thing-

My carefully built world of secrets was about to fall apart.

Continue Reading

You'll also like

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

SHANA GRAY
4.3

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
His Mistress,His Secret
1

Chapter 1 Broken Nights

05/09/2025

2

Chapter 2 The Devil in the Alley

05/09/2025

3

Chapter 3 The Shadow That Follows

05/09/2025

4

Chapter 4 The Car in the Shadows

05/09/2025

5

Chapter 5 Cracks in the Wall

05/09/2025

6

Chapter 6 Whispers in the Dark

05/09/2025

7

Chapter 7 Shadows at the Doorstep

05/09/2025

8

Chapter 8 Gifts Wrapped in Danger

05/09/2025

9

Chapter 9 The Echo of Blood

05/09/2025

10

Chapter 10 The Poison in the Room

05/09/2025

11

Chapter 11 Shadows in Her Eyes

05/09/2025

12

Chapter 12 The Proof He needed

05/09/2025

13

Chapter 13 A Lie That Wore the Truth's Face

07/01/2026

14

Chapter 14 When He Did Not Reach for Her

08/01/2026

15

Chapter 15 The Wrong Kind Of Protection

08/01/2026

16

Chapter 16 What Love Looks Like When It Isn't Blood

08/01/2026

17

Chapter 17 Love Without Proof

08/01/2026

18

Chapter 18 The Choice That Breaks Her

09/01/2026

19

Chapter 19 What Silence Costs

09/01/2026

20

Chapter 20 The Ground Beneath Them

09/01/2026

21

Chapter 21 The Price Of Freedom

09/01/2026

22

Chapter 22 The Thing He Wouldn't Do

09/01/2026

23

Chapter 23 The Space She Learned to Breathe In

09/01/2026

24

Chapter 24 The Places She Was Never Meant to Know

09/01/2026

25

Chapter 25 The Cost Of Distance

09/01/2026

26

Chapter 26 The Line He Refused to Cross

09/01/2026

27

Chapter 27 Love That Still Bled

09/01/2026

28

Chapter 28 The Space He Can't Cross

10/01/2026

29

Chapter 29 What She Learned To Fear

16/01/2026

30

Chapter 30 The Choice That Breaks Things

16/01/2026

31

Chapter 31 When Walls Start to Bleed

16/01/2026

32

Chapter 32 The Shape Of A Hunt

17/01/2026

33

Chapter 33 The Weight Of Knowing

17/01/2026

34

Chapter 34 The Day She Was Born

17/01/2026

35

Chapter 35 The Price of Wanting Her Back

17/01/2026

36

Chapter 36 The Lie That Learned To Breathe

17/01/2026

37

Chapter 37 What Breaks When You Don't Look

17/01/2026

38

Chapter 38 The Line He Crossed

17/01/2026

39

Chapter 39 What Power Cost

17/01/2026

40

Chapter 40 Fault Lines

17/01/2026