I Picked His Mistress, I Found My Self

Seraphina Hawthorne was the most tolerant woman in high society, the kind who handpicked mistresses for her own husband, Damien Hawthorne. When he took a liking to a woman working in a bar, she drank herself sick there until she coaxed that woman's number out of her. When he set his sights on a college girl, Seraphina knelt outside the campus gates begging the girl to have dinner with him. When he wanted a married woman, Seraphina swallowed her pride and pleaded with the woman's husband for a divorce. No matter how recklessly Damien played around, she had only one rule: Be home by ten. So when the headlines broke that Damien had spent the night with a mysterious woman, every one of his lovers came weeping at her door. "We trusted you like a big sister, that's the only reason we ever felt safe leaving Damien with you!" Seraphina pulled out a thick stack of property deeds. "These are the parting gifts he asked me to hand out. The locations vary, so it's first come, first served." The women exchanged looks, then lunged for the deeds, elbowing each other aside. Only one woman lingered until the end. She stroked her stomach with a smug, certain smile. "I'm pregnant." Seraphina's lips curved. "From what I know, Damien has always been very careful out there." The woman's face changed. She hurled her teacup, and it struck Seraphina's forehead, drawing a thin line of blood. "How can you be so shameless? I've never met a woman as low as you. I'm pregnant now. Do you really think your seat as Mrs. Hawthorne is still secure?" Seraphina said nothing. Behind her, the maid stepped forward to sweep up the shards. Every one of Damien's women had been chosen by her own hand, but yesterday's mystery woman wasn't even traceable in her files. He must really care about this one. "Damien!" The woman who had been so arrogant a moment before now ran toward the doorway, beaming. Seraphina lifted her eyes and met the man's cool, indifferent gaze. The chill of early winter still clung to him, and a livid kiss mark bloomed against his throat. Seraphina lowered her head almost at once. A scream cut through the room. The woman was kicked across the floor and landed at Seraphina's feet, clutching her chest and moaning. Seraphina blinked, then thought distantly, "Lucky I had the maid clear the glass already, or I'd be paying for plastic surgery on top of everything else." Damien drew his leg back, his expression edged with impatience. "Seraphina, do I really need to teach you how to handle some lying little leech who won't let go?" She came back to herself and ordered the maid to take the woman to the hospital. It was true. No matter how wild Damien got, he always wore protection. Over the years, every woman who had tried the fake-pregnancy trick to force her way into the family had been quietly disposed of, without so much as a ripple. Once you'd seen real wealth, dignity didn't cost much. Damien came up behind Seraphina and locked his arms around her, as if trying to press her into his bones. His voice was rough. "I wasn't with you last night. Are you jealous?" His tone was almost playful. "The little thing was clingy. I told her my wife at home keeps me on a short leash, and she nearly bit me to death over it. She said she's terrified of you. Says you have no warmth." Seraphina answered absently, "Mm." The old her would have screamed and broken things at words like those. But that woman was dead. As long as they didn't divorce, she was still Mrs. Hawthorne. And her mother in the hospital would still have the best care money could buy. Damien wasn't satisfied with the response. He scooped her up and carried her upstairs. "What I owed you last night, I'm paying back now." She forced herself to move with him through the discomfort, until her eyes happened to catch the faint glint of a camera lens. A bad feeling shot through her, and she shoved him off. He didn't get angry. He laughed softly, knotted a towel low at his hips, and lifted his phone toward the lens. "See? She isn't so scary. She won't eat you." Seraphina's heart shattered, and what remained of her dignity was ground into dust. A giggle came through the speaker. "Mm, but I really do like her moaning. Perhaps she can teach me sometime." "Sure. I'll send you the video." Only then did Seraphina come to her senses. She lunged for the phone, but he sidestepped her with infuriating ease. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he sent the video with the other. The breath was knocked out of her. It took several long inhales before she could steady herself. She pulled away, stood up, and reached for her clothes. The sight made Damien frown. "What's the tantrum for? You picked all the others by hand and walked them through everything yourself. Why throw a fit now?" Her back stiffened. "I'm not angry." That perfect indifference of hers made it worse. Something lodged in his throat like a sponge, neither rising nor going down, soaking up everything inside him. Others' wives were soft and sweet. His wife was a stone. And ever since that incident, she had been less a stone than a slab of coffin wood, cold straight through. Seraphina picked up a stack of papers. "Urgent documents from the company, plus a transfer deed. The woman outside earlier was injured. She'll need additional compensation." Damien signed without reading, his impatience deepening. "It's always business with you. We're a married couple. Is there really nothing else you want to say to me?" She looked at his face and was silent for a long moment. "No." Everything she had needed to say, and every tear she had needed to shed, had already been said and shed long ago. Damien stalked out with a sweep of his sleeve. Seraphina sank to the floor, the Divorce Settlement Agreement in her hands. This marriage that had burned her alive to keep alive — she was done with it. She rang her lawyer. "The agreement's been signed. Please release the announcement." The notice had barely gone live when Damien's call came through. "You want a divorce because I wasn't home by ten last night?" "Seraphina, I don't like women who throw fits."