The Billionaire’s Reluctant Mistress

Daphne Ravenscroft had once been the love of Logan Carmichael’s life—the center of his world, cherished and adored beyond measure.

But now?

Now, she was nothing more than a shadowy secret, a mistress tucked away out of sight, living on the edges of a life that no longer belonged to her.

The man who had once filled her days with love and laughter had turned into her tormentor, dragging her into a personal hell of his making. After she’d been kidnapped, Logan hadn’t hesitated to choose his fiancée, Madison Lexington. His decision left Daphne humiliated, discarded like yesterday’s news, fodder for the world’s cruel gossip.

Once, Logan had sworn with fiery conviction, “Even if I die, I’ll never love you again.”

But when Daphne finally summoned the strength to walk away, he unraveled. Logan spiraled into madness, scouring the globe in a desperate search to find her.

His plea was raw and haunting, “Daphne, my life is yours—just let me have your heart back…”

But Daphne had only shaken her head, her voice resolute and calm. “We can never go back.”

...

Cold and detached, Logan Carmichael brushed Daphne after their casual indifference as though she were nothing more than an afterthought. Rising from the bed, he began to dress, not sparing her so much as a glance.

His voice was flat and emotionless as if the words carried no weight at all. "Don’t forget my engagement party is tomorrow. Be there on time."

Daphne clutched the blanket around her, her knuckles whitening with the strain.

She could feel the anger and humiliation rising in her chest. “I’m not going,” she said firmly, her voice sharp.

Logan didn’t even blink. His composure was unnervingly steady, his tone casual, dismissive.

“If you don’t show up,” he said evenly, “I’ll send an invitation to your father instead.”

The breath caught in Daphne’s throat. Her chest tightened as the weight of his threat bore down on her.

Using her father against her? That was cruel, even for Logan.

The silence between them hung heavy, stretching out as her defiance warred with the impossible situation he’d put her in. After a long moment, she dropped her gaze, unable to hold out any longer. She had no choice but to relent.

Later that evening, a delivery arrived: a sleek off-shoulder gown, elegant and undeniably expensive.

Daphne didn’t even glance at it for long. Instead, she picked it up, set it aside, and walked away without a second thought.

...

The next day, the Carmichael and Lexington families’ engagement party was the talk of the town. The city's elites were all in attendance, filling the grand ballroom with opulence and whispers of intrigue.

When Daphne finally arrived, she was dressed in a modest, high-collared, long-sleeved gown—an open defiance against Logan’s expectations. His brows drew together in a sharp line of displeasure the moment he spotted her.

"Are you here to beg for food, dressed like that?" His words cut through the air like a whip, loud enough to draw the attention of nearby guests.

Heads turned, whispers rippling through the crowd.

"How does she even dare to show her face here?"

"Shameless. Doesn’t she remember what she did back then?"

"If I were her, I’d bury myself six feet under."

The snide comments and derisive stares were relentless, but Daphne remained stoic.

She avoided the eyes of those around her, intent only on finding a quiet corner where she could wait out the party in peace.

As she made her way through the crowd, she bumped into none other than Madison Lexington—the star of the evening. A gasp rippled through the room as the red wine in Madison’s glass splashed across Daphne’s chest.

A girl at Madison’s side sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. "Oh, look! It’s Miss Ravenscroft. For a second, I thought she was one of the waitstaff."

Daphne ignored the jab and murmured an apology, already turning toward the restroom to clean up the mess.

But the girl blocked her path with a disdainful laugh. "Where do you think you’re going in that cheap dress? Did you pick it up at a clearance sale? It’s insulting just to look at it."

Before Daphne could respond, the girl grabbed at the neckline of her dress, yanking it hard. The fabric gave way, revealing the unmistakable marks on her skin—marks left by Logan himself.

The room erupted in laughter, judgment raining down on her like shards of glass.

Daphne froze, her cheeks flushing with humiliation. Her gaze flicked toward Logan, silently pleading for him to intervene.

But he just stood there, smirking, clearly enjoying the show.

Her composure cracked, tears welling in her eyes despite her best efforts to hold them back. Then, a clean, crisp white jacket was draped over her shoulders as if on cue.

A collective hush fell over the room. Everyone’s attention shifted to the man standing beside her: Kyle Ashford.

The eldest son of the prestigious Ashford family had returned unexpectedly, and he was now shielding Daphne from the crowd's cruelty.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. The sight of Kyle stepping in for Daphne set his blood boiling.

Kyle led Daphne away without saying much, offering her the chance to clean up and change into fresh clothes.

Once again composed, she thanked him quietly and slipped out of the venue unnoticed. When she finally returned home, she expected nothing but silence and solitude.

Instead, she found Logan waiting for her.

He stood in the dark, the tailored suit from the party still clinging to him, his presence filling the room with tension.