My Husband Wants Me To Serve His Mistress

“Housekeeper? Or just a maid cleaning up after everyone else?”

Those words, sharp and cruel, echoed in my mind, a refrain I had grown all too familiar with.

At first, they stung, cutting through me like a sharp blade. I found myself questioning, doubting if I really was as worthless as they painted me to be.

But five years ago, I was just as young and radiant as Kendall.

Five years ago, my world had shattered. In an instant, my parents were ripped from me in a tragic accident, leaving only me and my ten-year-old brother battling leukemia.

Desperation had taken root in me, and there was no choice but to drop out of school. I juggled part-time jobs, anything to afford his treatment.

The quickest way to earn money? A nightclub, where I ended up as an escort.

When a client humiliated me, a bottle crashing into my forehead, I thought I’d reached the bottom.

But then, a hand reached down from the darkness, pulling me out.

That was the first time I met Blake.

He had appeared like an angel in my life, lifting me from the flames of my misery.

And in that moment, he offered me a lifeline, an unexpected marriage contract.

Five million in exchange for five years of my life.

I agreed.

He said he needed a wife to quiet his family's expectations, someone with a spotless past, and that he didn’t want me out in public often, only allowing me to go out twice a week.

I agreed.

So, I spent those five years almost entirely inside this grand mansion.

As for Blake, I thought I loved him. I accepted this "imprisonment," and, oddly, I even found a strange comfort in it.

I truly believed I could be his wife forever.

But he never touched me, never allowed me into his inner world.

Then, one day, when he wasn’t home, I couldn’t fight the temptation any longer. I sneaked into his bedroom, and that’s when the truth hit me like a slap in the face.

Blake had always had a lover.

Kendall.

His five-years-younger neighbor.

I had long grown numb to Blake’s endless parade of women. To me, they were nothing more than fleeting distractions, mere tools to satisfy his desires. And I, in my quiet submission, held onto the title of "Mrs. Wilson" as if it were a badge of honor.

But yesterday changed everything. The moment I saw Kendall stroll into that bedroom, the one I had never been allowed to set foot in for five years, it hit me like a jolt of electricity. I finally understood. It was time to leave.

"Laura?" Blake’s voice sliced through my thoughts, thick with impatience. "What’s going on in that head of yours?"

"You called me useless, right?" I replied coolly, turning to face him. "Maybe it’s time I find a job. A housekeeper, a maid, " I paused, locking eyes with him. "Five years. I haven’t broken any laws. Should I just waste away here forever?"

Blake opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Kendall stepped out, sliding into a pristine, brand-new couture dress. It was the same dress Blake had kept locked away, never worn, waiting for the right moment. And now it was on Kendall.

"I didn’t expect you to know my size so well," she purred, twirling in front of him. The fabric swirled gracefully around her, her smile gleaming. "Do you think it looks good?"

Blake took Kendall's hand, his usual indifference replaced by something soft, almost affectionate.

"They look amazing," he said, nodding. "As long as you love them, I’ll buy you anything."

And then, right there in front of me, they kissed.

Kendall, her cheeks tinged with a hint of shyness, reluctantly pulled away from Blake. "There are others here..." she murmured, her eyes briefly flickering to me. "Do you think the dress Blake chose for me looks good?"

The dress clung to Kendall’s form, a shimmering fabric that wrapped around her like it had been made for her, luxurious, radiant, and perfectly suited to her youthful charm.

I nodded; my voice was soft yet genuine as I met her gaze.

"They’re stunning."