The CEO's Little MistressChapter 1

The day I landed a nine-figure deal, my CEO boyfriend—who’d delayed marriage for years—finally agreed to meet me at City Hall. I rushed over, my heart soaring.

But Nathan never came. Instead, a notification popped up: a post from his assistant. A provocative photo showed her hand clasped in Nathan’s, a new marriage certificate vivid against her dress. The caption read: He saved me from an arranged marriage… now he’s my husband!

Colleagues buzzed in the comments, anticipating my meltdown. I liked the post and commented coldly: “Married already? When’s the wedding? I’ll send a generous check.”

Nathan called instantly, his voice icy. “This marriage to Heather is fake—just to stop her parents from making her quit. It’s not real. Must you be so petty? Delete the comment and apologize. Once this is over, I’ll marry you as planned.”

My reply was frosty. “Don’t bother. We’re done.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line before Nathan’s voice exploded with anger. "Monica, how many times do I have to explain this? It was a fake ceremony with Heather! Just paperwork to fool her parents. Is that really worth tearing us apart?"

"I already promised I'd marry you," he raged on. "What more do you want? There's a limit to these tantrums. You don't just throw the word 'breakup' around like a joke!"

I clutched my phone, the cavernous, empty hall of the registrar's office mocking me. A bitter smile twisted my lips. For ten years, marrying Nathan had been my only dream. I’d spent countless nights imagining our happy life together.

I had the wedding favors and invitations ready to go. I’d picked out the photographer, our outfits, even the venue. All I needed was for him to say yes. But every time I brought it up, he’d use the company as an excuse. It was a "critical growth period," he’d say. "Just wait until things are stable."

So I threw myself into stabilizing it for him. I took on every thankless job, every grueling project, working myself to the bone. When the company was finally stable, he said he "wasn't ready." He told me to wait a little longer.

I waited for ten years.

Then yesterday, after I secured the massive project that would set us up for life, he finally relented. He called it my "reward." I was so ecstatic I couldn't sleep, thinking my years of waiting had finally paid off. I took the whole day off, got here first thing in the morning, and waited.

And waited.

Until his assistant, Heather, posted that picture. They’d even driven to the next state over to get the license, just to avoid me. The stark red of the certificate seared itself into my memory.

He wasn't "not ready." He just wasn't ready to marry me.

For the first time, I didn't swallow the hurt. "You're right," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "It's just paperwork. The whole process, from taking a number to walking out with the certificate, takes less than ten minutes. A ten-minute process you couldn't find the time for in ten years with me, but you managed it for her."

I took a breath. "And let's not forget, you were the one who suggested we do this today. You left me hanging all day. Don't I have a right to be angry?"

My firmness seemed to catch him off guard. When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with condescending fury.

"Can you stop being so unreasonable, Monica? I told you it was an emergency! Was I supposed to just stand by and watch her parents ruin her life? Do you have any idea how much the company has invested in training her? I was protecting an asset! Was that so wrong?"

I almost laughed. As if. The company was full of people whose parents were pressuring them. Why didn't he "protect" them? What kind of "asset" was Heather, anyway? She had zero competence, couldn't even use the basic Microsoft Office Suite, and hadn't closed a single deal in six months. Any other employee would have been fired without a second thought.

But in Nathan's eyes, Heather was a diamond in the rough, a secret weapon who was only "letting us have the sales" to be kind. He was convinced that if a real crisis hit, she would be the one to save us all. In reality, the only thing saving her from termination was Nathan constantly reassigning my successful projects to her name.

He probably didn't even realize how deep his bias ran, how instinctively he protected her, how tenderly he cared for her.

"You're not wrong," I said, a cold smile in my voice. "I am."

He took the bait, his tone instantly shifting to one of smug satisfaction. "Well, since you know you're wrong, hurry up and delete the comment. And apologize to Heather. You’re making her look bad in front of the whole company…"

"My biggest mistake," I cut him off, "was not breaking up with you sooner."

"Monica, you're being impossible! You want to be stubborn? Fine! You just wait!"

He hung up. A moment later, my phone buzzed with notifications. He had unlinked all our shared accounts and changed his profile picture, erasing me from his digital life. It was his classic move, his way of punishing me into submission.

But this time, I was just tired. Too tired to play his games.

As I was about to turn off my screen, a notification popped up from the company group chat. It was Heather, tagging me.

"Monica, please don't misunderstand! Nathan was just helping me out of a tough spot with my parents. It’s rare to find a boss as kind and humane as him these days!"

"If I had known you'd be so upset, I never would have posted it. It's all my fault, I'm so sorry…"

Nathan replied immediately. "Heather, you did nothing wrong. You don't need to apologize. The person who needs to apologize is the one making snide, malicious comments."

The rest of the vultures in the office quickly chimed in.

[Yeah, Heather, it’s not your fault! Monica’s just being petty! She’s jealous that you’re young and beautiful and have the CEO's favor!]

[Nathan is such a good guy. For a girlfriend, Monica is so cold and heartless. She deserved to be stood up! Serves her right!]

I was used to their backstabbing. Ever since Heather had arrived and become Nathan's favorite, they’d been kissing up to her and whispering behind my back. Their words couldn't hurt me anymore. I turned off my phone.

The registrar's clerk looked at me with pity. "Ma'am, you've been here all day. Is… is the person you're waiting for not coming?"

"We're about to close. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow?"

I shook my head, my eyes fixed on the floor. "He's already married someone else. He's not coming. And neither am I."

I looked down at the ticket in my hand. Number one. The first to arrive, the last to leave. What a joke.

With a short, sharp laugh, I tore the paper into pieces and dropped it into the trash can. The man who would never show, the wedding that would never happen—I was done waiting. The love that was never returned—I was done wanting it.

I walked towards the exit. Just as I reached the door, my phone rang. It was Nathan. He had unblocked me.