Mistress Gets Mansions Wife Gets Ashes

To my husband, Pierce, I was nothing more than a parasite. A tick burrowed into his designer suits, draining his wealth to subsidize what he called my low-life family. To curb my greed, hed restricted me to a humiliating twenty-dollar weekly allowance for the entire household.

Then I was kidnapped.

The ransom was a million dollars. When the kidnappers called him, his first reaction wasn't fearit was relief. He laughed, telling them I was a useless gold-digger and that they were welcome to do whatever they wanted with me. He wouldn't spend a dime to bring me back.

My father, already frail and battling late-stage illness, went to Pierces glass-tower office and literally fell to his knees. He sobbed, begging Pierce to save his only daughter. He swore that if Pierce paid the ransom, he would disappear forever; hed never call, never visit, never be a "burden" again.

Pierce just looked down at him with cold, bored eyes. He said his money was hard-earned and he wouldn't let me "squander" it on a staged disappearance.

To save me, my fathersick as he waswent to a series of shady, back-alley clinics. He sold his blood, his plasma, over and over. He even found a way to sell a kidney on the black market. He got me out, but the cost was his life. He died of sheer physical exhaustion shortly after I was released.

His last words were an apology. He told me he was sorry he was so useless, sorry he couldn't give me the life I deserved.

I was shaking, dialing Pierces number to scream at him, to demand how he could let this happen, when a notification popped up on my phone. It was an Instagram post from his "executive assistant," Lexie.

While my father was selling his organs to save me, Pierce had bought Lexies brother a five-million-dollar estate in the Hamptons, complete with a Rolls-Royce Phantom in the driveway. Hed moved Lexies parents into a penthouse and hired a staff of eight to wait on them hand and foot.

Even Lexies French bulldog was wearing a custom Tiffany gold chain around its neck.

I had been tortured for two weeks. My body was a map of bruises and cigarette burns.

When the ransom was finally paid, my father had picked me up and carried me on his back, just like he used to when I was a little girl. He couldn't afford a taxi, let alone an ambulance. He carried me all the way to the county hospital.

I was drifting in and out of consciousness, my limbs heavy as lead. Through the haze, I heard a snippet of his conversation with the intake nurse.

"The admission deposit is five hundred dollars."

Only five hundred. A drop in the bucket for a man like Pierce. But for my father, it was an impossible sum. I wanted to tell him to let me go, to stop fighting, but my throat was a desert. I couldn't make a sound.

I slipped into a coma for three days. When I woke up, the first thing the nurse told me was that my father was gone.

He had died right there, sitting in the plastic chair next to my bed. He had watched over me all night, and his heart simply gave out. They found him in the morning, cold. Because there was no one to claim him immediately, they had moved him to the basement morgue.

He died alone. In a chair. In a hallway.

I screamed until I lost my voice in that morgue, but he was never going to answer me again. To afford a basic cremation and a service, I had to swallow my pride and call everyone Id ever known to beg for loans.

At the wake, the small, rented room was filled with "concerned" relatives who were really just there for the spectacle. Their whispers cut through the air like serrated knives.

"Can you believe a billionaires father-in-law lived in a dump like this? No windows, smells like mold. Pathetic."

"I heard Pierce would rather hire eight maids for his mistress than pay a cent to save this girl. Imagine being such a failure of a wife."

I sat there, my fists clenched so hard my nails drew blood.

"The old loser raised a young loser," another whispered. "They can't even afford a hearse. Had to beg us for gas money. Its bad luck just being here."

I didn't say a word. I helped the funeral director slide the plain wooden casket into the van myself.

At the crematorium, as I watched the furnace doors close, my phone began to vibrate incessantly. It was Pierce.

"Natalie, what the hell is wrong with you?" his voice boomed the moment I answered. "Do you have to be so pathetic? Why are you leaving disgusting comments on Lexies Instagram?"

The tears Id been holding back finally broke. I hadn't slept in days. I was a ghost of a person. My voice came out as a ragged rasp. "Does a home-wrecker even have the capacity to feel 'disgusted'?"

"How dare you!" Pierce shouted. "Lexie is a sweet, innocent girl, and you're out here spreading rumors like a jealous bitch. If you say one more word to her, I swear I'll make you regret it."

I let out a hollow, bitter laugh.

Pierce had let me rot in a basement for two weeks because Lexie told him the kidnapping sounded "theatrical." I knew exactly what he was capable of.

"Delete the comment, Natalie. Now," he threatened. "Or Im cutting off the lease on that rat-hole your father lives in. I'll let him rot on the street."

At the mention of my father, a white-hot rage ignited in my chest.

Pierce seemed to have forgotten that five years ago, when he fell through the ice on a frozen lake during a hiking trip, it was my father who dove in to pull him out. My father had suffered from chronic, agonizing rheumatism ever since that day.

Every night, he used to lie awake in pain. Once, I asked Pierce for money to buy him better painkillers. Pierce had thrown a fit. Hes just being dramatic because hes old! Tell him to toughen up. Im not throwing money away on his 'aches'.

And yet, when Lexie sneezed, Pierce flew in specialists from across the country.

After that, my father never complained to me again. He didn't want me to get yelled at. He took a job hauling bricks on a construction site just so he wouldn't have to ask for a dime. Every time I visited, hed sneak a crumpled twenty into my purse and tell me to buy myself a nice dinner, while he sat there eating plain white rice and pickled radishes.

I had tried to tell Pierce once, hoping for a shred of humanity. Hed been feeding Wagyu beef to Lexies dog at the time. He just sneered. At least your dad has some dignity, unlike youa leech who thinks my bank account is an all-you-can-eat buffet. Dont even think about asking me to bail him out. Your whole family is parasitic.

The "allowance" he gave me was twenty dollars a week.

My father hadn't spent a cent of it. Hed kept it all in a small tin box for me. There was a note inside: "Nora, Im so sorry I wasn't successful enough to give you the life you deserve..."

I found out later, from the security footage at Pierces office, that my father had knelt at the entrance for three days and nights. Hed literally cracked his forehead open bowing to the pavement, begging for the ransom.

When that failed, he went to the blood banks. Bag after bag. Then the kidney.

While I was holding my fathers cold body, the top trending story on Twitter was Pierce spending ten million dollars on a private estate for Lexie.

I sobbed into the phone, my voice breaking. "Go to hell, Pierce! You aren't even fit to speak his name!"

I hung up and collapsed onto the cold tile floor of the funeral home, clutching my chest as the world went black.

On the TV in the waiting area, Lexies face was everywhere. Two funeral home employees were gossiping while staring at the screen.

"Who is she? Ive never seen a socialite get this much airtime. The CEO of Thorne Industries bought out every local network for this."

"Thats Lexie Vance. Shes the boss's 'favorite.' He didn't just buy the networks; he rented a fleet of yachts just to celebrate her dogs birthday."

My father was Pierces family. And yet he was treated worse than a stray. Id had to hock my wedding ring just to pay for his cremation.

My phone buzzed with a calendar alert. It was my fathers birthday. But I didn't have a father anymore.

The pain was physical, like a jagged blade twisting in my gut. I stood up, dizzy, and walked to the front desk.

"Can you print something for me?" I asked.

The clerk nodded. "Of course. What do you need?"

I gripped the small wooden urn in my arms until my knuckles turned white.

"Divorce papers."

This farce of a marriage had to end.

Once the papers were in my hand, I took a car to the waterfront. The entire pier was lined with life-sized cutouts of Lexie and her dog. Pierce had invited half the city to this "birthday party," sparing no expense.

Crowds were gathered, catching red envelopes stuffed with cash being dropped from drones.

"Mr. Thorne is insane!" someone yelled. "You get five hundred bucks just for saying 'Happy Birthday' to a dog!"

"Five hundred? If Lexie wanted five hundred million, he wouldn't even blink. Look, the fireworks are starting!"

The sky exploded in a choreographed display of light and sound. A young couple stood near me, the girl swooning.

"I read that he personally interviewed the design team for this. He told them: 'Cost is no object. Just make her smile.' Shes just an intern, and she found her Prince Charming. Its like a fairytale."

For five years, the phrase Pierce said to me most was: "Natalie, you were never in my league. You should be grateful I even look at you."

He chose to forget that I was the one who lived in a cramped studio with him when he was starting his firm. I was the one who worked three jobs to pay our rent while he built his empire. He had promised me then: "Nora, Im going to marry you, and Im going to make sure you and your dad never want for anything again."

He kept those promises. He just kept them for Lexie.

They had the mansions, the cars, the gourmet meals, the 24-hour staff. I was the one who got screamed at for buying an extra head of lettuce. Toward the end, he demanded receipts for every grocery run, terrified I was "stealing" a few cents from him.

And when I was kidnapped, he was convinced it was a scam. A ploy to get more of "his" money.

The fireworks continued to roar. I looked at the sky and felt nothing but a cold, dead emptiness. This party probably cost more than the million dollars that would have kept my father alive.

Just then, a small French bulldog with a gold collar trotted toward me.

Lexies dog.

The dog barked at me, then, without warning, lifted its leg and peed on my shoe.

A woman in a silk dress and a young man in a tailored suit walked over. The woman glared at me like I was trash shed found on the sidewalk.

"What are you staring at? Clean that up! My 'Grand-baby' is the star of the show tonight. If hes late for his entrance because of you, my son-in-law will have your head!"

The young man sneered. "Seriously. Where did Pierce find a maid this pathetic? You look like you crawled out of a gutter."

I recognized them from Lexies Instagram. Her mother and her brother, Hunter. The "son-in-law" they were claiming was my husband.

"Im Pierces wife," I said, my voice cold. "Not his maid. And Im not cleaning up after a dog."

They both burst into mocking laughter.

"Oh, look, another delusional fan-girl," Hunter laughed. "You're a bit old to be roleplaying as Pierces wife, don't you think? Get lost, Grandma. Go on, Little Darlingget her!"

The dog lunged. Instinctively, I kicked out to push it away. It tumbled over and started yelping.

Lexie appeared out of the crowd like a heat-seeking missile, scooping up the dog and sobbing into Pierces chest as he followed close behind.

"Natalie! You can hate me all you want, but how could you hurt a poor, helpless animal?"

Pierces eyes turned murderous. "Natalie! You have the nerve to show up here and cause a scene? Apologize to Lexie right now!"

Lexie had stepped on my foot with her stiletto when she ran overI could feel the blood soaking into my sockbut Pierce didn't care. He only saw her tears.

"Do it," Pierce hissed. "Or Im cutting you off completely. You want your loser father to starve? Because thats where this is going."

He didn't even know. My father had been dead for days, and he hadn't even bothered to check.

I stared at him, my eyes burning with a hatred so pure it felt like ice. "Don't you dare mention my father."

Lexie saw an opening. "Oh, Natalies so 'tough' now. I guess she thinks she can take care of her dad herself. Though, after being with those kidnappers for two weeks... Im sure youre 'broken in' by now. You could probably make some money on a street corner, but I doubt youd fetch much."

The guests around us erupted in laughter. A couple of middle-aged men in expensive suits whistled at me.

"Pierce is a saint for keeping you," one of them shouted. "If my wife came back after two weeks with a gang, Id throw her out with the trash!"

Pierce didn't stop them. He actually looked amused. "Hear that, Natalie? Ive been more than patient. Apologize, then get your ass home."

I looked at this manthis stranger I had once lovedand felt the last remaining shard of my heart turn to dust.

When I didn't move, Pierce reached out to grab my arm to drag me away. He shoved me, harder than he intended. I fell, my skirt riding up to reveal the horrific bruises and cigarette burns on my thighs from the kidnapping.

The crowd gasped, leaning in to gawk at my trauma like it was an exhibit. Lexie smirked, covering her mouth in mock horror.

"Wow, Natalie. You and those kidnappers really went at it, huh? Like I saidused goods. Maybe you can sell blood like your dad."

I looked at Pierce, my vision blurring. "Youre letting them do this? After everything you promised us?"

Pierce laughed, pulling out his phone. "You think your dad is some hero? He was a pathetic dog. You want to see how much he 'loved' you? Watch this."

He hit play on a video.

In the grainy footage, my father was on all fours in a parking lot. He was barking. He was crawling like a dog.

Pierces voice was in the background, laughing, throwing ten-dollar bills at him. "Do it louder, old man! Maybe I'll give you a hundred if you wag your tail!"

My fatherthe proudest, most hardworking man I knewhad debased himself like an animal just to try and get a few dollars to save me.

The world tilted. "Pierce... he saved your life. He dove into a frozen lake for you."

"He did it because he wanted a payout," Pierce snapped. "I built this life myself. I don't owe you or that old drunk anything. Stop trying to cash in on a favor from a decade ago."

I tried to grab the phone, but Pierce shoved me down again.

"You want to see him bark again, Natalie? You haven't learned your lesson yet. Maybe I should have let those guys keep you a little longer to teach you some manners."

The blood drained from my face. "You... you knew."

Pierce didn't even flinch. "I set it up. It was supposed to be a 'scare' to stop you from asking for more money. I didn't think the idiots would actually touch you, but hey, it worked, didn't it? And I guess your dad actually found the million after all."

I stared at him, my mind blank with shock.

The kidnapping was a lesson? My fathers death was just a "game" that went too far?

This ten-million-dollar party... a tenth of this would have saved him. And I was holding my fathers ashes in a wooden box because I couldn't afford a real urn.

Lexie reached down and snatched the wooden box that had fallen from my bag. "Whats this? Some more cheap junk?"

I scrambled on my hands and knees to get it back. "Give it to me! Give it back!"

Lexie kicked me away with her heel. "You hurt my dog, Natalie. You owe us a tribute."

She flipped the lid open.

The wind off the river was strong. Before I could reach her, the grey-white ashes billowed out like a cloud of dust, swirling into the dark water of the harbor.

"No! No! Please!" I lunged, trying to catch the dust with my bare hands, but it was gone. Half of him, swept away into the sewage and salt.

Lexie wrinkled her nose. "Ugh! Its just a box of flour? Natalie, you are so weird. You brought a box of baking supplies to a gala?"

She tossed the box toward her dog.

The dog trotted over, sniffing at the remaining ashes. I screamed, trying to crawl toward it, but Pierce stepped in my way and kicked me back down.

"Still trying to kick the dog?" he growled.

Encouraged by Pierce, the dog lifted its leg and peed directly into the box, soaking the remains of my father.

Lexie giggled. "See? Even Little Darling knows your 'gifts' are trash."

I didn't argue. I didn't scream. I just gathered the box into my arms, desperately trying to scrape the untainted ashes into a small pile with my fingernails.

Pierce groaned. "Natalie, enough with the melodrama. Its a box of flour. Stop embarrassing me and get out."

I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face. "Its not flour, Pierce. Its my father. These are his ashes."

The silence lasted for a second before Pierce erupted in laughter. "That old leech? Hes too stubborn to die. Nice try, though. You almost had me."

I just sobbed. The kind of sob that tears your throat open.

"Stop it," Pierce snapped, his annoyance returning. "Im not falling for it. You should be on your knees apologizing to the dog. You're lucky I'm letting you go home."

At that moment, the woman I wasthe woman who had loved him, supported him, and endured himsimply ceased to exist.

I looked him in the eye. "I want a divorce."

Pierce froze. He knew how much I had clung to him, how much I had tolerated just to keep my "family" together.

"You're joking," he said, though his voice wavered. "You have nothing. No career, no money, no one. You wouldn't survive a week without me. Who else would want a piece of 'used goods' like you?"