
He Flaunted His Mistress, Now He's Going Mad Begging After Divorce
Ladys · Completed · 7.5k Words
Introduction
I sobbed and thrashed, but his strong hands pinned my wrists. The buzzing needle pierced the sensitive flesh of my private area, vibrating against my clitoris as he forced a succubus mark onto me. I let out a sharp, pathetic moan, my body involuntarily slicking with a mix of blood and arousal under the agonizing pain.
By the time the needle carved the eighteenth humiliating word into my bare, heaving breasts, my mind was completely broken. He just wiped the blood from my nipples and left to fuck his pregnant mistress.
He thought I was just a toy. At his wedding banquet, he threw me to a pack of hungry men. "Do whatever you want with her holes. Even if it's a gangbang, I take no responsibility." Disgusting hands immediately groped my bare thighs, brutally ripping my dress apart to expose my tattooed chest. Rough fingers pinched my nipples and shoved into my dripping core, making me scream in despair.
But I didn't die there. I tanked his company and fell into the arms of his biggest rival.
When my ex-husband finally realized the mistress's baby wasn't his, he called me, sobbing and begging. I just pressed the phone to my ear, gasping loudly as Tristan's thick, hard cock thrust deep into my tight, wet pussy.
"Ah... fuck, Tristan, deeper..." I moaned shamelessly into the receiver, hearing my ex-husband's breathless silence on the other end. "Henry," I panted, riding my new lover hard, "Your empire is dead, and so are we."
Chapter 1
To get revenge for his little assistant, I was forcibly dragged by Henry Windsor to a tattoo shop.
"Turn on the livestream, let everyone see how slutty she is," he said condescendingly.
I struggled desperately, but it was useless.
The first tattoo was placed on my private area.
It was a succubus mark.
The second tattoo was on my inner thigh.
"Bitch."
...
The eighteenth tattoo, on my chest,
"Shadow City Must-Eat List."
Humiliating words covered my entire body.
He finally called it to stop.
"The 18th of this month is Briar's birthday. For her sake, I forgive you."
I weakly looked away.
And said quietly in my heart.
'You don't need to forgive me, Henry. I don't want you anymore.'
Seeing I didn't answer, impatience flashed across Henry's face. "Why aren't you saying anything? Are you dead or something?"
Briar Morris was nestled in his arms, and upon hearing this, she trembled even more.
"Harriet, don't blame Mr. Windsor... whatever you want to do, do it to me. He just doesn't want to see me wronged."
Before I could speak, Henry yanked me hard.
My wounds scraped harshly against the ground, instantly seeping blood.
"Why are you apologizing to her? It's clearly her fault!"
I looked up at their tightly clasped hands and suddenly laughed.
The incident he was talking about was when Briar stole my project, won an award with it, then publicly accused me of plagiarism on a show.
I was cyberbullied for a whole month—doxxed, sent dead rats, splashed with paint...
Yesterday, I finally collected all the evidence and posted it online.
But within five minutes of posting the evidence, it was quickly taken down.
Then Briar came to me in tears. "Harriet, I know I was wrong... please let me go..."
Before I could say anything, Henry, who was following behind her, panicked.
He rushed over, knelt on one knee to help her up. "This isn't your fault."
Then he slapped me across the face and had people drag me to the tattoo shop.
"Don't you love getting attention online? I'll livestream your tattoos, make you famous. Happy now?"
My thoughts gradually returned.
I spoke in a hoarse voice. "Let's get divorced."
Henry's movement paused for a moment, but then he sneered. "Harriet, you've stuck with me through all these years of building from nothing. Now you've finally made it to vice president—can you really bear to leave me?"
I laughed. His so-called vice president position meant helping him pay off debts, negotiate contracts, secure funding, clean up his messes—all without a salary.
Anyone who wants that position can have it.
"Of course."
As soon as I finished speaking, Briar cried and shrank into Henry's arms. "Mr. Windsor, don't... don't let things get so bad between you and your wife because of me... Since your wife doesn't like me, I'll leave. I'll just leave..."
Henry gently comforted her, but when he looked up at me, his eyes were ice cold. "In that case, I'll grant your wish."
He then instructed his assistant to draft divorce papers.
"They can be delivered in an hour."
"Don't regret this."
I nodded, but my eyes were fixed on their matching rings.
Henry had never worn our wedding ring, but since Briar appeared, I'd never seen him take this ring off.
Henry looked me over, then sneered.
"We happen to have an hour left, so help me and Briar get matching tattoos."
"Really... really?"
"Really."
He lay down on the tattoo bed without hesitation.
"Tattoo Briar's name over my heart, so she knows how much I love her."
Henry and I had been married for six years, and I'd begged him for six years to get matching tattoos with me.
He never agreed.
Now, the tattoo I'd dreamed of had someone else's name on it.
I numbly opened my phone, and as soon as I clicked, I saw the recent livestream.
"Damn, this woman is pale enough, looks delicious..."
"So slutty..."
"Getting these tattoos and daring to livestream it—is she that thirsty? Looking for a master?"
The Shadow City forum was in an uproar, with everyone discussing who the woman in the livestream was.
Noticing my expression, Henry looked over.
"Don't worry, I blurred your face."
I bit my lip hard, forcing myself to close my phone.
After Briar finished her tattoo, the assistant brought over the divorce agreement.
Henry signed his name decisively.
"Briar, I'll take you to get our marriage certificate tomorrow, okay?"
Briar agreed with a blushing face.
"And next week, we'll have the wedding."
He looked at me calmly. "Sign quickly, don't interfere with me and Briar getting our certificate."
"Also, next week, come be Briar's bridesmaid."
After saying this, he turned and left with Briar without hesitation.
I knew he probably thought I was playing hard to get again.
Too bad, this time he guessed wrong.
I signed my name with trembling hands, then opened the booking app and bought a plane ticket for a week later.
'Henry, we'll never see each other again.'
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