His Mistress’ Birthday, His Last Warning

I woke to the sight of a five-year-old, battered boy—my son.

Alaric Stroud, the man who had confessed his love to me just yesterday, was now my husband of six years. Yet, in that moment, I hadn’t fully grasped the twisted reality of it all.

He called.

“I’m spending my birthday with Tahlia today. Even if you beat my son to death, I won’t come back.”

I didn’t flinch. “Stop your childish tricks and behave.”

Before me, my son—wounded and trembling—shuffled forward. He held a cane out to me with shaky hands.

“Mom… hit me. I’m not afraid of the pain.”

I smiled, silent, and accepted the cane he offered. My voice was calm, almost soft. “Do you know where that bastard is?”

——

“Alaric, you seem quite happy.”

The cane felt heavy in my hand. My heels clicked sharply against the polished marble floor—thump, thump—like a countdown to his reckoning.

Before me stood a man transformed. Gone was the shy, blushing boy who had confessed his feelings yesterday. In his place was a composed, mature man in a crisp suit and tie, every line of his face radiating authority.

He frowned at me. “Maris, who told you to come? Leave!”

The woman clinging provocatively to his arm smiled slyly. “Sis, since you’re here, why not stay for my birthday party?”

“Alaric, she may be uninvited, but we can’t be rude to guests,” she added softly, but pride and defiance glinted in her eyes as she stared at me.

Alaric pinched her cheek helplessly, his voice dripping with reluctant affection. “Okay, it’s your birthday. You have the final say.”

Then his eyes found mine—a sharp, warning glare. “Tahlia is kindhearted. Just because she won’t hold a grudge doesn’t mean I won’t. Maris, behave if you stay. Otherwise, don’t blame me for being rude.”

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

“Why is that crazy woman here? Isn’t she going to drag the boy into her schemes again?”

“The young sir’s life is ruined with a mother like her. If I were Mr. Stroud, I’d have divorced her ages ago.”

“Last time, didn’t she think he was cheating and beat the child nearly to death? I wonder how the boy is now.”

“This woman’s a disaster. She’s dangerous to everyone around her. Will she snap here today?”

Tahlia Gray straightened, forcing a saccharine smile. “Don’t say that! She’s Emilio’s biological mother… Surely she—ah!”

Before she could finish, my whip cracked across her face.

The sharp snap echoed through the room. Tahlia shrieked, clutching her burning cheek. My smile widened.

“Tahlia, didn’t your mother teach you not to talk too much in public?” I said lightly.

Alaric’s face turned red with fury. He stormed toward me.

“Maris, how dare you—”

Snap.

The whip lashed again, and his gold-rimmed glasses flew from his face. A bright red welt blossomed across his fair, handsome cheek.

I stepped closer, voice cold as steel. “Alaric, did I ever tell you not to mess with me?”