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After giving up being a billionaire's mistress Novel Cover

After giving up being a billionaire's mistress

Ava spent three years as billionaire Silas Thorne’s hidden mistress, trading her self-respect for a man who offered no love in return. His engagement to a high-society woman serves as a brutal wake-up call, proving she was merely a temporary luxury. Determined to regain her independence, Ava abandons her life of wealth and pain. Yet, as she finally discovers her own power, Silas grows dangerously obsessed with reclaiming his ideal partner.
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Chapter 6

Emory wouldn't meet Sariah's eyes. He shot Misty a sharp warning look before retreating straight to his study. No matter how hard Sariah struggled, no matter how loud she begged for help, he stayed cold and distant. He'd already made up his mind: she'd brought those cookies just to provoke Adelaide, and she deserved to be punished his way.

Misty smirked, sharing a knowing, dirty look with Phoenix and Sadie. Their laughter cut sharp, cruel and sick, echoing through the room like a pack of taunting demons.

"Come sit down, my little helper," Adelaide purred, beckoning Sariah closer. Her voice sounded sweet as sugar, but it reeked of malice under the surface.

Sariah froze solid, rooted to the spot. All the old memories of their relentless bullying came crashing back, and she couldn't make her legs move an inch.

"Well if it isn't Sariah, our old college queen," Phoenix sneered, his voice thick with sarcasm that dripped off every word.

Adelaide put on her best shocked face. "Oh, you two went to school together? How lovely—make sure you all play nice, won't you?"

One thought screamed through Sariah's head on repeat: *Run. Get out.*

"Sister Adelaide..." Sariah's voice shook so bad it barely came out. "I... I just remembered I have something I need to do back home. I have to go. I'm so sorry..."

She spun around fast, desperate to bolt, but her legs gave out completely. She crumpled to the ground before she even got two steps.

"C'mon, let's go keep our old friend company," Misty purred, as she and the others closed in on Sariah where she lay.

Sariah was desperate to scramble away, but she couldn't move. It wasn't fear of *them* that paralyzed her—it was the rotten, haunting past they dragged back to the surface.

"What's wrong? Can't get your feet under you?" Phoenix mocked, grabbing Sariah by the collar of her shirt and yanking her upright hard. "Our little queen didn't trip and hurt herself, did she?"

Sariah hung her head. Her left ear throbbed so bad it ached, her whole face tight with terror. She was dying to run, but she was trapped, locked in by circumstances she couldn't outrun.

"Emory's getting married, didn't you hear? To *my* sister, of all people..." Phoenix kept going, slinging an arm around her shoulders and shoving her toward the door.

Sariah knew exactly what Phoenix was doing: he lived for any chance to twist the knife and torment her. She remembered the first time they met, how she turned him down—and that's when the living nightmare started.

He got back at her by humiliating her over and over. Took compromising photos of her, burned her with cigarettes, egged Misty and Sadie on to beat her. They locked her in a old wooden crate, forced her to sleep in public bathroom stalls.

If she fought back, they'd destroy her scholarship. They'd destroy the orphanage—the only home she ever had, which relied entirely on her keeping that scholarship and succeeding.

So she endured to survive. Even when the pain was too much to bear, she bit down and took it, never flinching.

"Say something!" Sadie snapped, fed up with her silence. She kicked Sariah right back to the grass. "Emory's done with you. Keep pushing us, and we'll burn that stupid orphanage of yours to the ground!"

Sariah lay in the dirt, brushing grass and mud off her arms. She'd been supposed to meet Mr. Sullivan later, had been so careful planning to make a good impression. Now that felt like a stupid, impossible dream.

"Got nothing to say? Deaf and dumb now, are we?" Sadie sneered, and slapped Sariah so hard her head snapped to the side.

A maid walked past the garden, spotted the whole thing, and just looked away. Like it was totally normal, like rich kids getting away with abusing people like her was just how things worked around here.

Sariah stayed silent. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of begging.

Once Phoenix asked her what she thought about when they beat her. She never answered out loud. But the whole time, every second, she was plotting her revenge.

Every single time, though, the thought of the orphanage pulled her back. She couldn't abandon those kids—they were the only family she had left. Laurel, the director, had given up everything just to give Sariah a shot at a better life. She couldn't let her down.

The money Emory sent her every now and then wasn't much. He'd given her a credit card once, told her to blow it on whatever she wanted. The fanciest thing she ever bought with it was a four-thousand-dollar handbag—one rare, stupid indulgence.

All through college, she worked three part-time jobs just to send every extra cent back to the orphanage.

"This is getting boring," Phoenix grumbled, lighting up a cigarette like the whole thing was just a mild annoyance to him.

"You've always wanted her, anyway," Misty said, glancing over at him out of the corner of her eye. "Go ahead. Take her if you want it."

Phoenix's eyes lit up, but he just shrugged it off like it was nothing. "Nah. I don't fuck with damaged goods."

Sariah pushed herself to her feet, ignored all of them, and started walking straight for the front gate.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" Sadie snapped, furious. They'd grown up spoiled and privileged, they couldn't stand when anyone defied them.

Emory had called Sariah here, after all. That was basically permission for them to mess with her, right? So Sadie felt free to do whatever she wanted.

She charged forward, and kicked Sariah straight into the decorative lily pond by the gate. It was November, the air already biting cold around Bayside, and the water hit her like a thousand icy knives.

Sariah pulled herself up, water dripping off her face. She couldn't tell if it was pond water or tears running down her cheeks—at this point, they felt the same anyway.

"Had enough?" Emory finally spoke, stepping out onto the porch. He couldn't stand to watch anymore. Sariah knew he just didn't want Adelaide to see him step in. He knew how cruel they were, but he'd pick Adelaide's peace of mind over her safety every single time.

Adelaide followed him out, putting on that same fake shocked expression when she saw Sariah soaked to the bone. "Oh my goodness, why are you all wet, my dear assistant?"

"She... she fell in by herself..." Sadie mumbled, her voice shaking a little with unexpected guilt.

Sariah hauled herself out of the pond, and lifted her chin to meet Emory's gaze—defiant, even now.

He said nothing.

"I'm sorry. I need to go home..." Sariah's voice still shook, she just wanted to get out of there as fast as she could.

"Sariah..." Emory started, his voice uncertain. He half stepped forward, then hesitated, his eyes flicking to Adelaide over her shoulder. "I'll have the driver take you."

Sariah looked back at Emory one last time, and gave him a faint, empty smile. "No need."

She promised herself right then and there: this would be the last time she ever looked at him and felt love.

As Emory watched her walk away, a cold unease settled heavy in his gut. He couldn't shake the feeling that one day, he'd regret this choice more than anything he'd ever done.

Bayside Residence.

Sariah didn't even have time to go home and change out of her soaked clothes.

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