His Mistress Stole My Scarf

After a painful separation, a resilient woman builds a private life centered on protecting her young son. Her world is upended when her billionaire ex-husband reappears, unaware of the child's existence. As he discovers the truth, he uses his immense power to reclaim his family, threatening her hard-won independence. Caught between her past love and her son's future, she must navigate a high-stakes battle of wills and hidden emotions.

Kim had thought she could live without Ari. Without the laughter, the late night talks, the quiet warmth of someone who felt like home. But Ari returned changed, apologetic and impossible to ignore. Loving her once nearly Kim. Loving her again might just heal her. Some loves never really end...they just wait.

I had only one plan: To git rid of my new stepdad. I never knew; I'd fall hard for him! His free hand slid under my sweater, cupping my breast and pinching the nipple through my bra until I gasped into his mouth. "Clothes off," he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with need. "I need to feel you, remind myself you're all mine." "Mark, Carl's right outside the door," I protested, but my hands were already tugging at his shirt. "Door's locked and soundproof. Do it now." He backed me toward the couch, helping yank the sweater over my head and shoving my jeans down my legs. I stood there in my black lace thong and bra, and he dropped to his knees without a word, his eyes hungry as he gripped my thighs. "Spread those legs for me, baby." I did, bracing one hand on the couch arm as his mouth covered me, his tongue flat and hot against my clit, sucking just right while two thick fingers thrust deep inside and curled to hit that spot. "You taste so damn good-all mine," he growled between licks, the vibration sending me over the edge fast. My legs shook as the orgasm ripped through me, and I cried out his name, grinding against his face. He stood up quick, pants shoved down, his thick cock hard and ready. He lifted me like I weighed nothing, impaling me in one smooth thrust. My back hit the leather couch, and he pounded into me rough and deep, his hips snapping with every word. "No one touches what's mine. No one even looks too long." The pleasure built again fast, and I shattered around him, pulling him over the edge too as he groaned and spilled hot inside me, holding us locked together while we caught our breath.

My fifth wedding anniversary gift was a call from my husband's publicist. He told me to come down to the 5th Precinct because there was a "situation." With my billionaire husband, Elijah, there was always a situation. When I got there, I saw a young influencer accusing him of kidnapping. But the real shock wasn't the accusation. It was her face-she looked exactly like me, five years younger. Elijah arrived, but instead of being angry, he showered her with affection, calling her "Kiley" and gifting her a diamond necklace. He treated the kidnapping claim like a lover's quarrel. When his eyes finally met mine, the warmth vanished, replaced by ice. He looked at me like I was a piece of furniture. A cop muttered to his partner, "That's Mrs. Peters. The real one. Or, well, the first one." He hates me. He blames me for his sister's death five years ago, believing I ran away and left her to die. He doesn't know I collapsed while running for help. He doesn't know about my terminal heart condition. So he tortures me with my living replica, slowly killing the woman he vowed to love "till death do us part." The irony is, he doesn't have to try so hard. My doctor just told me I only have a few weeks left to live.

For three years, I believed my marriage was built on genuine love, only to discover I was merely a placeholder for a ghost. My husband, obsession-driven, has been molding me into the image of his deceased lover. Now, a woman who looks exactly like her has appeared, and he is forcing her to mimic his lost obsession too. Trapped in a web of cruel imitation and billionaire secrets, I must find a way to escape this living nightmare.

My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine. Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family. To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset. They both thought I was a broken doll they could control. I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice. She sang it, and now her career is over. Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground.