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The Truth About His Mistress

The Truth About His Mistress

Gavin

5.0
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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.

Protagonist

: Liv, Michael and Serena Cole

Introduction

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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The antiseptic smell of the hospital clung to me as I watched my brother, Leo, fight for every shallow breath-his life fading, his only hope an experimental surgery with an impossible price tag. My art, once my passion, gathered dust, while my father' s legacy, his architectural masterpiece, was brazenly stolen. Julian Vance, my father' s apprentice, stood before the towering Skyline Spire, a perfect replica of my dad' s unpatented dream, "Helios." He smiled, sharp and confident, taking all the credit at its grand unveiling. Rage, hot and sharp, coursed through me. He had stolen my dying father's masterpiece, building an empire while Leo lay dying. I confronted him, shouting the truth amidst flashing cameras. He dismissed me as distraught, a hysterical girl consumed by grief, his hand on my shoulder a public brand of instability. The crowd believed him, the powerful mogul, not the desperate girl in frayed denim. His eyes, though, flickered with a fleeting, inner turmoil that I inexplicably heard, a frantic whisper of guilt and terror. Humiliated, abandoned by my own family who valued Julian' s influence over my truth, I stumbled into the cold night. A sharp pain seized my chest, and blood stained my palm. It wasn't just Leo who was sick; I was too, and time was running out. He bought my silence, evicted me, and forced me into his gilded cage. I was now his servant, subjected to endless degradation by his cruel lover, Isabella, and Julian himself, whose every action, though outwardly cold, seemed driven by a terrifying internal war. I found myself trapped, desperately trying to survive, with a new life unexpectedly growing inside me, a secret I couldn't keep.

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