A Taste of the Mistress' Revenge

“My baby!” I screamed, my voice raw and frantic. “Where is my baby?!”

Wires and tubes were attached to my arms, restricting my movements, but I thrashed against them, my heart pounding wildly. My hands clutched the sheets, my nails digging into my palms as I fought against the overwhelming panic.

The door burst open, and a man and a woman rushed in. The woman came to my side, her hands reaching for me, her voice soft and soothing, but I didn’t want comfort. I wanted answers.

“Where is she?” I sobbed, my voice breaking as tears spilled down my face. “Where is my daughter?”

The man’s voice was sharp and commanding. “Calm down.”

I barely registered him as I continued to cry, my body shaking uncontrollably. But then his voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

“If you don’t calm down, I will return you to the place we found you.”

I froze.

My breath hitched, my fingers curling into the thin hospital blanket. That place. The abandoned house. The field. The night I gave birth. My child—gone. The agony clawed at my chest, but his threat made me pause. Whoever this man was, he had the power to send me back to the nightmare I had barely escaped.

I swallowed hard, forcing my breath to slow, though the sobs still wracked my body. My hands trembled as I clutched the fabric of my hospital gown. “Please,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Help me find my child.”

The man’s sharp gaze didn’t waver, but after a tense moment, he nodded. “We will, but you need to calm down first.”

The woman beside me placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, her expression filled with sympathy. “Let’s get you back into bed, okay?”

I let them guide me, though every muscle in my body was tense. The man turned on his heel, exiting without another word, his presence as cold and distant as the winter air. Hera waited until the door clicked shut before she spoke again.

“I’m Hera,” she said gently. “And that was my brother, Hector. We’re the reason you’re here.”

I swallowed, my throat dry. “Why?”

Hera sighed. “We hit you with our car. You ran into the highway, unconscious. We couldn’t just leave you there.”

Everything felt like a blur. The field, the empty space where my baby should have been, the cold pavement before the blinding headlights swallowed me whole. My stomach twisted. I clutched the blanket around me tighter.

“Do you remember what happened?” Hera asked cautiously.

I hesitated. I didn’t know if I could trust them. But what other choice did I have?

“I was kidnapped,” I said, my voice hoarse. “They took me from my home. My mother... my best friend...” My voice cracked. “They killed them. They burned my house. And then they took me away because I was pregnant with the child of a man who belonged to another woman.”

Hera sucked in a sharp breath. “Who?”

I met her gaze, my fingers curling into fists. “Antonio Russo. Or as I once knew him, Paolo Santoro.”

The reaction was immediate. Hera stiffened, her eyes widening in shock. Before she could respond, a deep voice cut through the room.

“You know them? De Santis and Russos?”

I turned sharply, finding Hector standing in the doorway. He hadn’t left after all. He had been listening. His expression was unreadable, his presence dark and imposing.

I nodded slowly. “They took everything from me. And I want to make them pay.”

Hector studied me for a long moment, then stepped forward. “You're not the only one who has unfinished business with them.”

My chest tightened, but I met his gaze with unwavering determination. “What do you mean?”

Hector’s jaw tightened slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. “The De Santis family owes me more than just money. They owe me a debt that can never be repaid. And Antonio Russo? He’s just another piece of the filth tied to them.”

Hera’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t interrupt as Hector continued. “You want revenge, Alicia? Then you’re going to have to cooperate with me. Because I want the exact same thing.”

A shiver ran down my spine. This wasn’t just about me anymore. Hector had his own vendetta, one that ran deeper than I could understand. And yet, I could feel the intensity in his words, the weight behind them.

He walked toward me, his presence looming, and then he extended his hand.

“But if you want true revenge, you have to forget Alicia Costa. That name is already known to them. After what they’ve done to you, they probably already think you’re dead. Or, if they found out you had escaped, I am certain that they will be watching, and waiting for you to make a move. So, as long as you remain as Alicia, you will never get close enough to destroy them.”

My pulse raced, my breath shallow as his words sank in. Forget Alicia Costa? Bury who I was? My entire life, my identity—gone?

Hector’s voice was calm, but it held an undeniable finality. “You need to become someone else. Someone untouchable. A woman they would never see coming. You need a new identity, a new life, a new purpose.”

I clenched my fists, swallowing down the last remnants of hesitation. If this was what it took, if this was the price I had to pay to make them suffer as I had suffered—then so be it.

Hector’s lips curled into a smirk, his dark eyes gleaming. “You will become Francheska Falcon. My wife. My dead wife.”

My breath caught in my throat. I had lost everything. I had nothing left to lose. And yet, this offer... this deception...

It was my only way forward.

I reached out and took his hand.

And with that, my vengeance will begin.