Seven Years of Lies as His Secret Mistress

I ran into a lost child at the Westfield Galleria today. He told me his dad was William Vance, a major real estate tycoon. Coincidentally, my child’s father was also named William Vance, and he was also a giant in the real estate industry. Right then and there, I decided to ask for a divorce. But when I turned our entire house upside down, I couldn’t find our marriage certificate anywhere. Just as I was about to confront William, a cold, hard truth hit me—we never actually registered our marriage. I wasn't his wife. I was just his dirty little secret. The kept woman. 0 "My dad is William Vance. He works at Apex Developments. Ma'am, can you please take me to him?" "I'm lost, and I'm really scared." It was the weekend, and I was just doing some light shopping when a little boy suddenly ran up to me and grabbed the hem of my dress. He said he had accidentally slipped out of his dad's office building and got lost. I asked him for his father’s name and the company he worked for. When he answered, I froze. Coincidentally, my son's father was also named William Vance. And he also worked at Apex Developments. Could these two boys... have the exact same father? The thought made me shiver violently. If they were the same person, it meant I had been sharing my husband with another woman this whole time. "Ma'am? Are you okay? Can you please take me back?" "My dad has a lot of money. If you take me back, he'll give you whatever you want." The boy's innocent voice pulled me back to reality. I looked down at his face. He looked so much like my own son, Leo. My hands and feet went completely numb. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a pair of invisible hands, aching so sharply I could barely breathe. "Do you know what your dad looks like?" I whispered. The boy smiled brightly and pulled a photo out of his jacket pocket. It was a family photo. They looked incredibly happy. "The man on the left is my dad." With blurry, tear-filled eyes, I pointed at the woman standing on the right side of the photo. "And who is she?" "That's my mom! Isn't she beautiful? My dad loves my mom so much. For their tenth anniversary last month, he bought her a huge yacht. It was this big!" The little guy gestured widely with his arms. My fingernails dug deep into my palms. My heart skipped a beat, then plunged into a cold abyss. The pain was so intense I could barely stand. A tenth anniversary? I had been with William for seven years. Our son was almost four. Yet, he had been married to another woman for ten years. This brutal truth struck me like a bolt of lightning, instantly shattering all the love and trust I had built over the years into a million jagged pieces. I couldn't choke down the rising bile. My stomach turned, and I rushed to a nearby trash can, dry-heaving violently. The little boy trotted after me, asking softly, "Ma'am? Are you okay?" He pulled a small handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me. "Here, you can use this. Please don't cry. It's okay if you can't take me back." "Can I just borrow your phone? I can call my dad to pick me up." I stared at the handkerchief in his hand. The monogrammed pattern was incredibly unique. I had seen it before—on FaceTime. My son’s nanny used the exact same handkerchiefs to wipe Leo's hands. My heart shattered completely. I took the handkerchief, clutching it so tightly my knuckles turned white. In the end, I personally dropped the boy off at the lobby of Apex Developments. Then, I sent William a Snapchat message: *See me at home in thirty minutes.* ### 0

*Amber, I'm so sorry, but I have a major emergency at work. I can't leave right now.* He replied instantly. He had always been like that over the last seven years. *I need to see you right now.* After I sent that, there was no reply. For the first time in our relationship, he just vanished mid-conversation. About five minutes later, another message popped up: *Okay. Wait for me at home.* I figured he only had free time now because his son had been found. I took an Uber home. Not long after I arrived, William walked through the door. He was wearing his usual black designer suit, but his tie was slightly crooked. He must have rushed back in a panic. "Amber, what's wrong? Why the rush?" He had a warm smile on his face as he walked toward me, leaning down to press a tender kiss on my forehead. In our seven years together, kissing me was always the very first thing he did when he came home. But the thought that he had been doing the exact same thing to another woman for ten years made my stomach turn. It felt like a rusty blade was carving up my chest, leaving me bleeding and raw. It was all an act. Every single bit of it was a lie. "William, let's end this. I want a divorce." As soon as the words left my mouth, we both froze. During the few minutes I had waited for him, I had searched every drawer and cabinet in the house. I couldn't find our marriage certificate. Only then did it hit me. We had been together for seven years. But I had never met his parents. We never had a legal, registered marriage license. I used to think that a relationship was just between two people. As long as he loved me, a piece of paper didn't matter. How incredibly naive. How pathetic. I had been a mistress for seven years without even knowing it! "What are you talking about, Amber? It's not April Fool's Day. Don't make jokes like that." "If you're upset about something, we can talk about it. I told you when we first met, I am never letting you go." I shoved him away with all my strength. "The 'emergency' you had earlier... it was because your son went missing, wasn't it? You hadn't found him yet when I texted you." "Do you want to guess how he got back to you?" I felt William's body go completely rigid. He was always so calm, so in control of his business empire. This was the first time I had ever seen him look utterly terrified. I quickly wiped the tears from my face, trying my best to salvage whatever dignity I had left. "I brought him back." "He asked me to take him to you. And he showed me a picture of his happy little family." "He also told me... that you've been married for ten years!" "Amber, it’s not what you think. Let me explain." William lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me. No matter how much I thrashed and screamed, he wouldn't let go. "I don't love her. There's no affection between us." "It's really not what you think." "No affection?" I scoffed, tears streaming down my face. "You legally married her! So what am I? Your side piece? Your kept woman? You made me an unwitting mistress for seven whole years!" It was sickening. The man I had loved with all my soul for seven years had just driven a knife through my heart. And now, he was telling me it was fine, that the wound would heal. "If you don't want to see her, I can send her away. I can move her to another country tomorrow. She won't affect us." "Amber, we've been so happy these past seven years. Her existence changes nothing." *Slap!* My hand flew across his face. I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe. I couldn't believe those words had actually come out of his mouth. He wanted me to stay? He wanted me to willingly remain his dirty little secret? Was this how he loved me? "We are done, William. I'm taking our son, and I'm leaving." "No!" His eyes turned a furious, bloodshot red, and his grip tightened on my shoulders. "If you ever want to see Leo again, you will stay right here. Be a good girl and stay by my side." My feet felt like they were glued to the floor. I had almost forgotten. A year ago, he told me that in order to give Leo the best education, he was sending him to an elite boarding school in Switzerland. William said we had to groom him from a young age. Thinking about our son's future, I had agreed. I never realized it was actually a trap to keep me on a leash. ### 0

But I still left. The William standing before me was a complete stranger. It felt like I had spent the last seven years sleeping next to a man wearing a mask. I couldn't bear to be in the same room with him for another second. I began to call my son's phone frantically. Ten times. Twenty times. Fifty times. The result was always the same—it went straight to voicemail. William was truly ruthless. He had cut off my only way of contacting my own son. At that moment, the anger faded, leaving behind nothing but cold, hollow despair. I dialed William's number one more time. But when the call connected, a furious female voice answered instead. "Who is this?" "Why does my husband have your contact saved with a heart emoji?" My hand clamped tightly around the phone. I didn't know how to explain myself. "Are you his little whore?" she spat. I gasped. I wanted to scream back, *No! I'm not his whore! I'm his wife!* But the words died in my throat. They had been married for ten years. They had a child. They had a legal marriage certificate. What did I have? To a legal wife, there was no difference between a mistress and a whore. Both were homewreckers. I hung up the phone in a panic, pulled the hotel blanket over my head, and sobbed until I couldn't breathe. I hated myself. I hated myself for being a good Samaritan at the mall, and most of all, I hated myself for ever falling in love with William Vance. ... I first met William on a freezing, snowy night. I literally picked him up off the street. He was shivering, his skin bruised and blue from the cold. I had to admit, the moment I saw his face, my heart skipped a beat. William was incredibly handsome—sharp brows, striking eyes, the exact type I had always been drawn to. I took him to the hospital and took care of him. At first, he was a man of few words. He only answered when asked, and our conversations were dry and brief. It wasn't until the day he was discharged that he finally initiated a conversation. He only said three words: "I have nothing." I had smiled. Later, he moved into my tiny rented apartment. In the winter, we ordered cheap takeout and ate it under one blanket. In the summer, we got tacos from street vendors. After dinner, we would walk to the neighborhood park and watch the old folks play chess. William told me he had never experienced a life like this before. I assumed he had grown up in extreme poverty, so I loved and pitied him even more. Until one day in September, a fleet of black Escalades blocked our narrow street, and a group of men in suits took him away. Only then did I realize how wrong I had been. William was the sole heir to the Vance empire. I started Googling everything about his family. I knew that someone from his background would never cross paths with me again. But fate decided to play a cruel joke on me. William ran away from his family estate. He showed up at my door, dropped to one knee, and slipped a ring onto my finger. He begged me to marry him. He said he loved me. He said that although we couldn't legally register the marriage right away due to his family's interference, he would make them accept me one day. I believed him. I loved him. So, I said yes. I cooked his meals for seven years, and I gave him a son. And because of my foolish, blind love, I became his secret mistress. ### 0

The next morning, the hotel front desk called to tell me a woman named Victoria Croft was looking for me. I told them I didn't want to see her. But somehow, she got a duplicate keycard to my room. She burst through the door, followed by a horde of paparazzi. Cameras flashed in my face, blinding me. Panicked, I pulled the duvet over myself, trying to hide. But Victoria had no intention of letting me off easily. She ordered her bodyguards to tear the blanket away. I had never felt so utterly humiliated. I was like a lamb led to the slaughter, completely defenseless. "I want the whole city to see what a homewrecking whore you are!" she screamed. She lunged at me, clawing at my face and ripping at my hair while the cameras captured every second of it. It was clearly a orchestrated, public execution. Fortunately, the police arrived quickly. They kicked the paparazzi out, and I was finally saved. At the station, a female officer kindly wrapped a jacket around my shivering shoulders and gave Victoria a stern warning. But Victoria’s voice in the interrogation room was loud and proud. Even sitting in the lobby, I could hear every word. "She's a mistress! She ruined my marriage! Why shouldn't I teach her a lesson?" "Clearly her parents didn't raise her right, so I had to do it for them!" I stared at the floor, my fingernails digging so deep into my palms that they drew blood. I stood up abruptly, marched into the interrogation room, and pushed the door open. I knew I looked like a hot mess, but I didn't care anymore. "I didn't ruin your marriage," I said, my voice trembling but clear. "He proposed to me. He told me he was single. He said he loved me and wanted to build a life with me." "We've been together for seven years. The only reason we didn't have a big wedding was because he said we had to wait for his family's approval—" Before I could finish, William rushed into the room. He walked right past me, pulling Victoria into his arms as if I were nothing but thin air. "Are you okay?" he asked her softly. Victoria nodded. "Let me take you home. Leo is crying for you." William turned to the police officer. "I've already spoken to your chief. I'm taking my wife home now." Then, he finally looked at me, his eyes cold and distant. "Miss, I apologize for my wife's behavior today. I will have my assistant reach out to explain everything later." I watched him guide Victoria out of the station. At that exact moment, I realized that my beautiful seven-year dream had officially turned into a nightmare.

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