Never Again His Mistress

The last night Isabella Scott spent with Liam Johnson was charged with a raw energy that stole the air from her lungs.

Her fingertips brushed the cold platinum of the ring on his finger, and a flood of recollections washed over her, sharp and sweet. Just days ago, a social media post had ripped her world apart. Liam was engaged to the daughter of James Wilson, the formidable CEO of the Wilson Corporation.

Noticing her distraction, Liam leaned in. His kiss was deep and possessive, sparking a familiar heat that blurred all reason. In that heated moment, he tucked a sleek black credit card into the lace of her bra. The gesture felt like a transaction.

“Be good. I’m getting married next month. We’re done here,” he said, his tone flat and final.

Isabella simply nodded, a heavy acceptance settling in her chest. “Okay.”

Liam studied her, a frown creasing his brow. “You’re fine with this?” His question held more curiosity than care.

She forced a light, airy laugh, a perfect mask for the storm inside. “I’m good.”

The truth was, she had built walls against this pain a long time ago.

To any outsider, Isabella’s devotion to Liam was absolute, almost fanatical. She had chased him since she was eighteen.

Right after college, she joined Johnson Enterprises to be near him, quickly becoming his executive assistant. By day, she managed his chaos. By night, she shared his bed.

She was his first line of defense, stepping in front of any problem. At business dinners, she was the one downing shots meant for him. Her loyalty was unquestionable.

Her purse held three worn notebooks, every page filled with details about him—his coffee order, his mood triggers, his silent tells. A single look from him, and she knew what he needed.

For seven years, she had followed him, a shadow without a name or a promise. Lately, the whispers had changed.

The mocking smiles had turned into knowing nods. People had started asking her about wedding dates.

No one believed she would just let him marry someone else. Not even Liam.

What no one knew was that a week ago, Isabella had finally given in to her parents. She had agreed to go home to Chicago for a setup.

Her first meeting with Liam happened when she was eighteen.

It was a normal day until her mother’s panicked call shattered it.

“Belle! Your dad… a car accident. It’s bad. You need to come home now. Please, hurry.”

Isabella’s world tilted. Blind with fear, she ran from her apartment, stumbling directly into the path of Liam’s car.

He slammed the brakes. The car stopped inches from her. Shaken, she scrambled up, limping toward the main road, desperate to find a cab to the hospital.

Liam caught up to her. After a terse check, he made a call. Minutes later, he was driving her there himself.

At the hospital, the chief of surgery was waiting. A elite team was assembled. Her father, William Taylor, was pulled back from the edge.

Isabella clung to her mother, Amelia, tears of relief soaking their clothes. Through the blur, she saw Liam speaking quietly with the hospital director.

She understood then. He had made that call. In that moment, he wasn’t just a man. He was her miracle.

At first, all she wanted was to thank him.

That simple need kept her near him, looking for small ways to repay the debt for her father’s life.

After graduation, she got a job at his company. One night, lines blurred. She ended up in his bed, and soon after, in his office as his personal secretary.

But feelings have a way of changing.

On the rare occasions he showed her kindness, she started wanting more. It felt like a dangerous greed.

A month ago, Liam changed. He turned cold. Distant.

A knot of dread formed in her stomach, leaving her unsure and off-balance.

After they were together one night, she gathered her courage. “Mr. Johnson… have I upset you?”

His cool gaze assessed her. After a long pause, he said, “I’m just getting bored with all this.”

The words were a physical blow. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she looked away, humiliated.

That same day, Liam left for an international business trip. For the first time in years, he didn’t take his personal secretary.

The next day, she saw the news. His engagement to Olivia Davis.

When he returned a week later, the wedding band on his finger was a final, brutal confirmation.

The fantasy was over. All good things end. It was time to leave the life she had built around Liam Johnson.

He had already moved out of their penthouse, leaving her the space they’d shared for seven years.

Isabella acted quickly. She called a realtor and listed the apartment.

The location was prime. She priced it low. The agent marketed it as a steal. A buyer viewed it that evening and put down a deposit immediately.

After signing the papers, the agent beamed. “Ms. Scott, it’s a full cash offer! We can close in a week.”

Isabella paused, a faint, foolish hope flickering, then smiled. “Great. Thank you.”