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Jilted Girlfriend? I Am The Tycoon's Wife
Cara Lewis sat quietly as her boyfriend of three years pushed a plate of dessert across the table, wearing a rehearsed mask of sorrow. He claimed he had to break up with her for her own good, blaming his lack of connections on Wall Street and insisting he couldn't give her the life she deserved. He acted like a martyr making a tragic sacrifice, waiting for her desperate tears and trembling denial. Instead, Cara calmly pulled out a stack of glossy photos and an elegant engagement invitation. She exposed his secret affair with the wealthy Hailie Lewis, completely dismantling his hypocritical social climb. Leaving the cheating narcissist pale and humiliated, Cara paid the bill and walked out, thinking the trash had finally been taken out. But her newly single evening took a chaotic turn when a teenage gaming partner called in a panic. He begged her to crash his elite prep school and pose as his aunt to save him from expulsion. Cara agreed, flawlessly playing the role of the secret new wife to his uncle, a notoriously ruthless Wall Street titan. She was thoroughly dominating the snobby school board when the office doors suddenly swung open. The real billionaire uncle, Beck Greer, walked into the room. Cara's heart dropped into her stomach as his glacial eyes locked onto her, knowing her social existence in New York was about to end. Caught in a terrifying, inescapable lie, Cara made an insane calculation. She stepped forward, firmly hooked her arm through the billionaire's, and smiled sweetly. "Honey, what took you so long? Julian and I were being bullied." She waited for the executioner's axe to fall, but the untouchable tycoon simply covered her hand with his and played along.
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Across the white tablecloth of Serafina, Bradyn Hubbard—Cara Lewis's boyfriend of three years—set his wine down and leaned forward. He pulled a thick, cream-colored envelope from his jacket and slid it across the table until it rested in front of her.
Cara looked down. The gold foil lettering was fresh from the press.
Engagement Gala
Groom: Bradyn Hubbard
Bride: Hailie Lewis
Venue: The Lewis Estate, Long Island. Next Saturday.
"Cara, let's be realistic," Bradyn said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Hailie is my ticket to the top. Marrying her is the only shortcut for a guy like me to get a seat on the board. I don't love her—she's just the ladder I have to climb for my career."
Cara stared at the card, then lifted her cold amber eyes to meet his. "So you're proposing what, exactly?"
Bradyn gave a smug, self-satisfied smile.
"We break up publicly. But in private? Nothing has to change. You funded my MBA and paid my rent for three years—I haven't forgotten that. Stay quiet, be my little secret on the side, and once I secure the Lewis assets, I'll make sure you're taken care of in luxury."
Cara stared at his shameless face, her voice dropping into a dangerous, silky calm. "You sold yourself as a kept man to my stepsister, and you expect me to be your dirty little secret?"
"Don't make it sound so ugly, Cara," Bradyn scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "That's how men get ahead in Manhattan. Be realistic, Cara. You're broke and you have no one. Who else is going to take care of you? Don't be stupid. Just take the deal."
Cara looked at him for one quiet second, her lips curving into a razor-sharp smile.
"In your wildest dreams, Bradyn."
Without a second's hesitation, Cara picked up her crystal tumbler and threw the cold bourbon and ice straight into his face.
The freezing liquor drenched his styled hair and soaked the collar of his designer shirt. Bradyn gasped, shooting up from the velvet booth in sheer shock, frantically wiping his stinging eyes.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he snarled, glaring at her as neighboring tables turned to stare.
Cara set the empty glass down with a quiet, deliberate tap.
Without breaking eye contact, she reached into her Saint Laurent bag, pulled out a thick manila folder, and dropped it heavily onto his soaked lap.
"Open it, parasite," Cara said calmly.
Bradyn's hands shook as he ripped the folder open.
A thick stack of forensic-grade photographs spilled across the table. His breath caught in his throat—the photos showed him and Hailie completely naked, tangled in the satin sheets of a suite at the Baccarat Hotel.
Taped right behind the prints was a notarized invoice.
Columbia MBA Tuition & Fees: $186,000.00
Tribeca Penthouse Lease Subsidies: $94,000.00
Bespoke Wardrobe & Networking Tabs: $62,000.00
TOTAL REIMBURSEMENT DUE: $342,000.00
Bradyn's face turned an ashen, sickly gray. "You... you tracked me?"
"Three hundred and forty-two grand," Cara said, tapping the total with a manicured nail. "Wire it back to my account by Monday morning. If you don't, these photos go directly to Hailie's father and the Lewis board."
The shock on Bradyn's face instantly curdled into ugly fury. He slammed both hands on the table, leaning in with a desperate hiss. "You crazy bitch! You gave me that money willingly—that was trust money! You can't sue me for gifts!"
"I invested in a partner, Bradyn, not a freeloader," Cara said coldly. "You lived off my money for three years just to become my stepsister's leashed lapdog. Pay back every cent by Monday, or wear the collar in public."
"You fucking bitch—" Bradyn lunged forward, grabbing for her wrist.
Cara smoothly stepped back, out of his reach. She stood tall, smoothing the front of her tailored coat, looking down at him with absolute disgust.
Slowly, deliberately, she raised her hand and flipped him a clean, effortless middle finger.
"Congratulations on the engagement, Bradyn," Cara said softly. "You and Hailie deserve each other."
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WILD EROTIC ADVENTURES
Sex is delicious. No one in their perverted mind will claim otherwise. So when a chance for a too good to be a true moment of one's life knocks at its door or when what happened a while ago was something you would never think it would have happened, some people grab these chances, while some regret it for a lifetime not indulging. A one-night stand or a quickie with a consenting individual is an easy fix.
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The Truth About His Mistress
I was four months pregnant, a photographer excited for our future, attending a sophisticated baby brunch. Then I saw him, my husband Michael, with another woman, and a newborn introduced as "his son." My world shattered as a torrent of betrayal washed over me, magnified by Michael's dismissive claim I was "just being emotional." His mistress, Serena, taunted me, revealing Michael had discussed my pregnancy complications with her, then slapped me, causing a terrifying cramp. Michael sided with her, publicly shaming me, demanding I leave "their" party, as a society blog already paraded them as a "picture-perfect family." He fully expected me to return, to accept his double life, telling his friends I was "dramatic" but would "always come back." The audacity, the calculated cruelty of his deception, and Serena's chilling malice, fueled a cold, hard rage I barely recognized. How could I have been so blind, so trusting of the man who gaslighted me for months while building a second family? But on the plush carpet of that lawyer's office, as he turned his back on me, a new, unbreakable resolve solidified. They thought I was broken, disposable, easily manipulated – a "reasonable" wife who would accept a sham separation. They had no idea my calm acceptance was not surrender; it was strategy, a quiet promise to dismantle everything he held dear. I would not be handled; I would not understand; I would end this, and make sure their perfect family charade crumbled into dust.
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My Kidney For His Mistress: Never Again
I woke up from surgery with a jagged scar on my side and a missing kidney. My fiancé, Dante Moretti, the Capo of the Chicago Outfit, hadn't saved me from an illness. He had harvested me like spare parts to save his mistress, Sofia. "She pays the tithe," he had told the surgeon coldly while I was paralyzed by anesthesia. For ten years, I was his loyal shadow. I managed his legitimate empire, took bullets for him, and even aborted our child three years ago because Sofia threw a tantrum about bloodlines. I thought my absolute loyalty would eventually earn his love. But when the Cartel held us both over the edge of a bridge days later, Dante didn't choose me. He tackled Sofia to safety and watched as I fell backward into the freezing black river. He thought I drowned. Or worse, he assumed I was a dog that would eventually swim back to its master, no matter how hard he kicked it. He was wrong. I dragged myself out of that water, but the woman who loved him died in the depths. Seven days later, I didn't return to the Moretti penthouse. I walked straight into the headquarters of his mortal enemy, Enzo Falcone. "Do you still want to marry me?" I asked the man who wanted Dante’s head on a spike. Enzo didn't hesitate. "I will burn the city down before I let him touch you again." Now, Dante is crawling at my gates, paralyzed and ruined, holding a medical box containing my stolen kidney. But he forgot one thing: I don't want it back.
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Spare Part Wife: Liver For His Mistress
I wore my favorite emerald silk dress to Per Se, thinking our third anniversary would finally be the night Darius came back to me. My heart was pounding with hope, but the moment he covered the rim of my champagne glass with a cold, marble-like hand, that hope died. He didn't bring a gift; he brought a personal assistant and a medical consent form. His ex-girlfriend, Hazel, was dying of liver failure, and I was the only compatible match they had found in the world. The realization hit me like a physical blow: he hadn’t married me for love, but for a "harvest." When I screamed that I wasn't a spare part, he didn't even flinch. Instead, he threatened to pull the funding for my grandmother’s Alzheimer’s care, holding the only family I had left hostage to save his "one who got away." He locked me in our penthouse under a high-tech security protocol, guarded by private contractors like a prisoner in a gilded cage. While I was trapped, he was at the hospital holding Hazel’s hand, wearing the Patek Philippe watch I’d bought him for his birthday. I watched their updates on social media, Hazel tagging him as her "hero" and "true love," while I was left alone in the dark. Darius told his lawyers I was just being "dramatic" and that I’d get over it once the settlement check cleared. Every memory of our three years together felt like a long-term investment in an organ transplant. How could I have been so blind? How could the man who promised to cherish me turn into a monster who only saw me as a regenerating asset? I stopped fighting and started calculating. I agreed to the surgery on one condition: a signed divorce decree and an ironclad trust for my grandmother that he could never touch. I refused his millions, took back my maiden name, and walked into that hospital with my head held high. I was giving them the piece of me they wanted, but it was the last thing they would ever take. As the elevator doors closed on Darius's desperate face, I knew that when I woke up, I would finally be free.
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He Chose His Mistress: The Pregnant Luna's Escape
I was four months pregnant with the Alpha's heir, and I had given up everything for Michael. I hid my identity as the daughter of the powerful Alpha Hayes, stripped away my inheritance, and poured my personal fortune into building his pack. I thought we were the golden couple. But one rainy night, Michael came home smelling of vanilla and deception. Exhausted, his mental barriers slipped, and I heard his thoughts project through our Mind-Link to his mistress, Serena. "She is just a vessel," his internal voice sneered. "Once the pup is born, we take the child and reject her. I only need the Hayes money a little longer." My world shattered. I wasn't his mate; I was a bank account with a pulse. The cruelty escalated when a waiter tripped at dinner, sending boiling soup flying toward our table. Michael didn't reach for me or his unborn child. He lunged to shield Serena, leaving me to take the scalding liquid full force on my pregnant belly. While I lay in the hospital with burns, he told the doctors to prioritize Serena's "shock" over my injuries. He thought I was broken. He thought I was trapped. He was wrong. I bribed the nurse to write two words on my chart: "Spontaneous Abortion." Then I froze every asset in the pack, signed the divorce papers, and vanished. Michael wanted a future without me? He’s about to find out exactly what that costs.
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Love's Sweetest Surprise: From Brokenhearted To Billionaire's Wife
For five years, I believed I was living in a perfect marriage, only to discover it was all a sham! I discovered that my husband was coveting my bone marrow for his mistress! Right in front of me, he sent her flirtatious messages. To make matters worse, he even brought her into the company to steal my work! I finally understood, he never loved me. I stopped pretending, collected evidence of his infidelity, and reclaimed the research he had stolen from me. I signed the divorce papers and left without looking back. He thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would eventually return. But when we met again, I was holding the hand of a globally renowned tycoon, draped in a wedding dress and grinning with confidence. My ex-husband's eyes were red with regret. "Come back to me!" But my new groom wrapped his arm around my waist, and chuckled dismissively, "Get the hell out of here! She's mine now."
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His Mistress,His Secret
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
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His Mistress, Her Empire
I sat in my Singapore office, thousands of miles from home, my eyes glued to the laptop. It was Lily's 18th birthday party, a lavish affair I' d planned down to the last detail. The live stream flickered on, and I saw the magnificent ballroom, just as I' d envisioned. But then, the MC boomed, "L
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My Money, His Mistress
For five years, I lived as Sarah Miller, the unassuming wife of a rising tech executive. I meticulously hid my true identity as Sarah Sterling, heiress to a vast fortune, believing my quiet support was building my husband Ethan's dreams. But that carefully constructed facade shattered at a school
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Ordered To Serve His Mistress: Heiress's Revenge
My fiancé sent me a text ordering me to serve his mistress, unaware that the waitress holding the tray was actually the daughter of the man who owned his soul. I was working undercover at his club, playing the role of a poor nobody to test his character before our wedding. But tonight, the test en
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His Mistress
She came here to clear her chaotic mind after witnessing her husband and his mistress having sex in their bedroom. She was furious, because even though she didn't love him, she remained loyal. She didn't want to destroy the family they had built, even if their marriage was just a business arrangemen
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His Mistress, Her Freedom
I spent five years meticulously crafting myself into the perfect accessory for my tech mogul husband, Liam. Three surgeries, a revised personality, and even honey-blonde hair-all designed to mirror the woman he truly desired, Sarah Jenkins. Tonight, our fifth wedding anniversary, was supposed to be
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I'm just his mistress
Prologue My hand was shaking as I left the bathroom. I hid the Pregnancy Test in the pocket of my pants before leaving the room. as usual, I'm the only one here in our huge house. I sat on the sofa and stopped the sobs that I had been holding in for a while. I took the pt out of my pocket and t
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Just A Placeholder: Dying For His Mistress
I stood on the tarmac clutching white magnolias, watching the man I loved hand his loyalty to the woman born to destroy me. Dante Cavallaro, the Ruthless Underboss, didn't just leave me for Sofia Moretti. He revealed that for two years, I wasn't his lover. I was a human shield. The heavy iron ban
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My Kidney For His Mistress: Never Again
I woke up from surgery with a jagged scar on my side and a missing kidney. My fiancé, Dante Moretti, the Capo of the Chicago Outfit, hadn't saved me from an illness. He had harvested me like spare parts to save his mistress, Sofia. "She pays the tithe," he had told the surgeon coldly while I was p
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Spare Part Wife: Liver For His Mistress
I wore my favorite emerald silk dress to Per Se, thinking our third anniversary would finally be the night Darius came back to me. My heart was pounding with hope, but the moment he covered the rim of my champagne glass with a cold, marble-like hand, that hope died. He didn't bring a gift; he broug
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The Truth About His Mistress
I was four months pregnant, a photographer excited for our future, attending a sophisticated baby brunch. Then I saw him, my husband Michael, with another woman, and a newborn introduced as "his son." My world shattered as a torrent of betrayal washed over me, magnified by Michael's dismissive claim
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Mafia Daddy: Claiming His Son's Bride As His Mistress
Natalia was done enduring her father's abuse which was why she decided to conveniently run off to college several hours from her hometown while her father was away. But something unexpected happens on the day of her escape-her father came home earlier than expected, ruining her plans but that wasn't
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The CEO Went Bankrupt After His Mistress Humiliated his Wife
As the New Year's dinner concluded and we prepared to leave, Miranda Wells, the manager, blocked my path and forced me to pay the bill. I firmly refused, but Miranda was tough. "I am doing you a favor by asking you to pay the bill! Who in this country would dare to defy anyone from the Harris
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He Saved His Mistress, Not His Wife
I was trapped under a massive oak bookcase, my leg shattered, dust filling my lungs. My husband, Dante, the Underboss of the Chicago Outfit, finally found me. But just as he lifted the heavy beam to free me, his earpiece crackled. It was news about Sofia, his childhood friend and the woman he trul
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He Chose His Mistress: The Pregnant Luna's Escape
I was four months pregnant with the Alpha's heir, and I had given up everything for Michael. I hid my identity as the daughter of the powerful Alpha Hayes, stripped away my inheritance, and poured my personal fortune into building his pack. I thought we were the golden couple. But one rainy night
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He Let His Mistress Strip Me
My husband froze my cards in front of Chicago's most ruthless mobsters. Then he let his mistress smash a bottle of wine at my feet-and ordered his men to strip me if I couldn't pay. The room laughed. They called me a useless trophy wife. They had no idea what I had done for him in the shadows. No
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The Unwanted Omega: Rejected for His Mistress
I was the Alpha's Fated Mate, yet I lived in the mansion as an unpaid servant while he played house with his mistress. For five years, Emilio refused to mark me, claiming my wolf was too weak to bear an heir. But on the night of the Gala, everything shattered. His mistress's son accused me of hit
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The Necklace I Designed, His Mistress Wore
Days from launching my passion project, "Ephemeral Echoes," I was a rising game developer, engaged to Ethan, NexusCorp's CEO. Our publicly perfect life was a tech-world fairytale, built on what I believed was unwavering trust and shared dreams. Then came the chat log: Ethan's explicit DMs with Chlo
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His Mistress's Illegal Son
His Mistress's illegitimate son is a moving tale of love, loss, regret and the complexity of human relationships. Lilly and Oliver's story began innocently and their whirlwind of romance swept them off their feet. Young and naive, they thought they had it all figured out not knowing that life has a
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I Carry the Child of My Husband and His Mistress
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, its vibration a familiar comfort as I lay in bed, three months pregnant, dreaming of our perfect family. Mark was downstairs, his charismatic voice a lullaby through the floorboards. Then the messages started. Anonymous. Short. And devastating. A picture of Mark,
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