My Money, His Mistress

My Money, His Mistress

Gavin

5.0
Comment(s)
1.1K
View
11
Chapters

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 fair. Instead of Ethan, engrossed in a "critical product demo," I found him openly laughing with his colleague, Chloe, her son perched on his shoulders, a perfect family portrait. The text "Saw you. Don't make a scene" burned my eyes as he publicly humiliated me, even tripping me. Later, when our innocent daughter Lily approached him, he coldly asked, "Whose kid is this?" The humiliation deepened when Chloe, smirking, implied Ethan was hers, and he prioritized her son over Lily. I soon discovered his "hard-earned" success was funding Chloe's lavish lifestyle, not ours. Days later, as Lily fought a severe asthma attack, Ethan, ignoring her labored breathing and hearing Chloe's laugh, dismissed my desperate plea for help as "dramatic." My world, a carefully constructed illusion, crumbled, replaced by a cold, burning rage. Years of "late nights" and "urgent work trips" weren' t ambition; they were a double life, built entirely on my blind trust and, ironically, my family' s secret funds. This wasn't just an affair; it was an elaborate deception, a meticulously orchestrated project of my own foolishness. The custom-made dollhouse I' d ordered for Lily' s birthday, now casually claimed by Ethan for Chloe's son, was the ultimate betrayal. But the Sterling heiress, buried for five years, was about to resurface. The quiet, unassuming Sarah Miller died that day. Now, as Sarah Sterling, I would reclaim my power, dismantle my husband's fraudulent empire, and show him the true cost of his betrayal.

Introduction

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 fair.

Instead of Ethan, engrossed in a "critical product demo," I found him openly laughing with his colleague, Chloe, her son perched on his shoulders, a perfect family portrait.

The text "Saw you. Don't make a scene" burned my eyes as he publicly humiliated me, even tripping me.

Later, when our innocent daughter Lily approached him, he coldly asked, "Whose kid is this?"

The humiliation deepened when Chloe, smirking, implied Ethan was hers, and he prioritized her son over Lily.

I soon discovered his "hard-earned" success was funding Chloe's lavish lifestyle, not ours.

Days later, as Lily fought a severe asthma attack, Ethan, ignoring her labored breathing and hearing Chloe's laugh, dismissed my desperate plea for help as "dramatic."

My world, a carefully constructed illusion, crumbled, replaced by a cold, burning rage.

Years of "late nights" and "urgent work trips" weren' t ambition; they were a double life, built entirely on my blind trust and, ironically, my family' s secret funds.

This wasn't just an affair; it was an elaborate deception, a meticulously orchestrated project of my own foolishness.

The custom-made dollhouse I' d ordered for Lily' s birthday, now casually claimed by Ethan for Chloe's son, was the ultimate betrayal.

But the Sterling heiress, buried for five years, was about to resurface.

The quiet, unassuming Sarah Miller died that day.

Now, as Sarah Sterling, I would reclaim my power, dismantle my husband's fraudulent empire, and show him the true cost of his betrayal.

Continue Reading

Other books by Gavin

More
Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Mafia

4.5

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

You'll also like

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book