She Swore Never To Be The Other Woman But He Made Her One Anyway Chapter 01

She Swore Never To Be The Other Woman But He Made Her One Anyway Chapter 01

I am the daughter of a mistress.

My mother followed the Prince of Manhattan for twenty years. From their high school romance to his high-society corporate marriage, he ended up marrying a woman of equal standing—the Princess of the Ivy League elites.

He wouldn’t let my mother leave, wasting her entire life.

Until the day she died, she never saw him get a divorce.

So, I swore I would never repeat her mistakes.

“I hate mistresses more than anything. I’d rather die than be one.”

Silas Sterling pressed me against the wall, his thumb brushing against my lip.

“What a coincidence. I hate gold-diggers more than anything.”

“Cassie Vance, if you’re after my money, get lost while you still can.”

I wasn’t after it. So, I gave myself to him completely without taking a single cent. I didn’t live in the villa he bought for me; instead, I rented a place outside and insisted on splitting every bill.

He called me a fool, yet in the middle of the night, he would tuck my freezing feet into his chest to warm them.

When I was doubled over with period cramps, he drove across the city to buy that heritage dark cane sugar I had mentioned in passing.

I thought he was the exception. I thought I had found what my mother waited a lifetime for.

Until I heard his friends jeering: “Silas, the bet’s been running for three months now, right? Is this girl actually in love, or is she just a damn good actress?”

He swirled his glass nonchalantly. “Isn’t her mother the perfect example?”

“The mistress’s heiress is always a mistress. I just like that defiant, high-and-mighty look of hers. Keeping her around isn’t a bad idea.”

Only then did I find out he had a fiancée.

The Princess of the elite circles, a perfect match—Eleanor Montgomery.

I had been made into his mistress.

I didn’t make a scene. I just quietly packed my things, moving them out bit by bit.

******

The door opened.

He froze when he saw me packing, looking uncharacteristically panicked.

“What’s wrong? Who messed with you?”

I looked at him.

“Silas, do you love me?”

His movements faltered. Then he smiled, ruffled my hair, and pulled me into his arms.

“Don’t overthink things.”

I coldly pushed him away and showed him my phone.

On the screen was his and Eleanor’s wedding invitation. The photo showed the two of them, his arm around her waist, wearing a perfectly composed smile.

He glanced at it while I held the phone, then looked up at me.

“Just because of this?”

His tone was light, like he was coaxing a naive child.

“It’s a corporate marriage, just for show. There’s nothing between us, you know that.”

I knew.

I knew he would pick up my calls at 2 AM, I knew he would warm my feet, I knew he would drive across the city for heritage dark cane sugar.

I also knew what he said in that private lounge.

I looked at him.

“You have a fiancée.”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

“Always.”

“Then who am I?”

He gave a small laugh, looking at me with a hint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Who do you think you are?”

I didn’t say a word.

“Cassie, haven’t I been good to you?”

Yes, he had.

Fixing the kitchen disposal at 2 AM, buying heritage dark cane sugar across town, warming my cold feet in his chest.

He was so good that I thought I was the exception.

“Then why did you lie to me?”

“Lie about what?”

“Lie that you didn’t have a girlfriend. Lie that you loved me.”

He looked down at me, his gaze suddenly becoming very deep.

“Did I ever say I loved you?”

I was stunned.

He leaned down, whispering close to my ear.

“What I said was, with me, you don’t have to wait.”

“I never said I loved you.”

I stood there, my hands and feet turning ice-cold.

He took a step back, watched my expression, and suddenly laughed out loud.

“You can’t handle even this?”

He pulled a card from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“There’s five million on this card. Take it.”

“As for you…”

He reached out, pinching my chin to force me to look up at him.

“I always thought you were a sensible person, content to be a caged canary.”

“You can move out, or stay somewhere else, that’s fine.”

“But you’re on call, understood?”

I looked into his eyes.

Those eyes were still beautiful, but there was nothing in them.

“Silas.”

“Yeah?”

“The night you all were drinking, I was at the door.”

The hand pinching my chin stiffened for a second.

I wanted to say something, but looking into his eyes, I couldn’t utter a word.

That night in the lounge, I was standing right outside.

Every word he said, I heard clearly.

But I didn’t leave.

Because I was still a fool then. I thought—he’s so good to me, what if those words aren’t true?

I wanted to gamble. Gamble that he truly loved me.

My eyes felt hot. I took a breath, refusing to let the tears fall.

I just lost the bet, that’s all.

Later, when I saw the public announcement of his marriage to Eleanor and the wedding invitations, I finally understood.

Silas—his bet was on how long I could keep up my “pure” act.

My bet was on whether he would ever love me.

The result was obvious. I had lost everything.

He watched me, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I know. Didn’t you come to pick me up?”

“By the way, did you hear anything?”

I shook my head.

“Did you guys say anything?”

I wanted to gamble one last time.

So, I walked to the bed, pulled a lab report from under the pillow, and handed it to him.

He looked down at it.

Clinical Diagnosis: Early Pregnancy

His pupils constricted.

“Two months,” I said.

He gripped the paper so hard his knuckles turned white.

“I was going to tell you today.”

“Tell you that I was going to be a mother, and you were going to be a father.”

“Turns out, I saw your wedding invitation first.”

I let out a helpless laugh.

When my mother was pregnant with me, that man had also gotten engaged.

He told her to get an abortion. She refused and hid in a small town to give birth to me.

She waited twenty years for my father to get a divorce.

She waited until she died, and my father never came.

I reached out and took the lab report back from him.

“It’s either her or me. I told you, I won’t be a mistress.”

I walked past him and picked up my suitcase.

At the door, he suddenly spoke:

“Cassie.”

“Get rid of the baby. It shouldn’t come into this world.”

Then, he transferred another five million to my card.

I suddenly remembered that night.

He had his sleeves rolled up, fixing the disposal, hands covered in muck, looking up at me with a grin.

“What are you looking at? Never seen such a handsome repairman?”

In that moment, I thought I had finally found it.

But what I was waiting for was never him.

It was the answer my mother never got.