Eight Years Later, He's Begging

One month before the beauty pageant, Ethan Sullivan led me to taste forbidden fruit.

I thought my secret crush had finally blossomed into love.

On the day of the finals, I was vomiting uncontrollably.

Ethan watched coldly, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Sophia Roscente, aren't you the most glamorous beauty queen?"

"How can you look beautiful like this now?"

He leaned in, whispering in my ear.

"Too many men slept with you that night."

"So many that even I can't tell whose bastard you're carrying."

With that, he turned and left, tossing a stack of banknotes behind him.

Eight years later, we met again. He had become a top-tier celebrity.

And I? I was the mistress of his investor.

Yet Ethan had gone mad, insisting on claiming fatherhood.

······

Charles Anderson pinned me down as I was putting Oliver to sleep.

"Mommy will be back soon. Go to sleep."

Before I could finish, he snatched my phone away.

His hips thrust forward as hot breath grazed my ear.

"Moan!"

"Let your son hear how his mother pleases a man!"

I bit my lip, swallowing every sound.

When Charles was satisfied, he threw the phone back at me.

The screen had already gone dark.

"Just kidding." He fastened his belt carelessly.

"By the way, I'm meeting a big star today to discuss a project."

"Don't you love entertainment news? Come along and see for yourself."

Silently, I changed into a tight dress and followed him out.

Charles's idea of "seeing for yourself" was just showing me off as a trophy.

Over the years, I'd heard every vile word imaginable.

Slut. Plaything. Yours if you want her.

I was numb to it all.

The commercial performance buzzed with noise.

A clear voice cut through the microphone.

"My new film releases next month. Thank you, media friends."

I looked up and met Ethan's gaze.

His hand, holding the mic, froze mid-air.

A reporter suddenly turned their camera toward me.

"Miss! You look just like the beauty queen from years ago!"

Every eye in the room locked onto me.

Ethan's speech faltered, his stare burning into me with unreadable emotions.

Eight years.

He was now a superstar, standing beside his famous co-star.

And I? The sugar daddy's shameful mistress.

I forced a practiced smile, smoothly denying it.

"You've mistaken me for someone else."

Charles yanked my hair triumphantly, dragging me into the inner venue.

After the event, Charles took me to dinner as usual.

This wasn't just any business meeting.

He often traded me for favors.

The party was held in a luxurious private room.

The host whistled the moment he saw me.

"Charles, your little mistress looks familiar!"

"Almost like a star!"

Charles laughed loudly, pulling me into his arms.

"Even the prettiest toys get old. If you like her, she's yours!"

His hand slid under my skirt without shame.

Ethan sat at the head of the table, his expression shifting from shock to disgust.

He saw right through what I'd become.

The men began chanting, forcing me to down glass after glass of liquor.

The burn seared my throat.

Suddenly, I remembered what I'd once told my fans.

"Women should be independent. Never rely on men."

How ironic.