💮͓̽His Mistress💮

The Other Side of The Mirror.

I couldn't sleep so I decided to stay awake to avoid having another erotic dream session with my boss who is married.

By the time I finally dragged myself to bed, the sky outside was already beginning to brighten. Morning had arrived, uninvited and far too early.

I sighed, groggy and restless, then forced myself into a cold shower to snap out of the fog in my head.

I slipped into a white skirt that hugged my curves just right and a black halter neck crop top that made me feel a little less invisible.

My curls were tied up in a messy bun, a few strands tumbling down the sides of my face with the kind of carelessness that made it seem intentional.

I added a touch of gloss, slid on a pair of white gladiator sandals, and stared at my reflection with numb eyes.

Today would be just another day pretending I wasn't falling apart inside.

When I arrived at the company, I headed straight to Raul's office, hoping—maybe irrationally—that he'd be back.

But of course, the room was empty.

Again.

My shoulders slumped as I stood there, staring at the closed blinds, the untouched desk.

"When the fuck is he going to get back?" I muttered under my breath, the anger building in my chest.

But it wasn't just his absence that made me feel like this. It was where he probably was—with his wife.

The woman he vowed his life to. The woman he belonged to. And the woman I could never be.

I was spiraling, stuck in my thoughts, when I collided with someone in the hallway.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not even bothering to look up.

"Morning, angel."

That voice.

I blinked up to see Nikolai standing there with that damn smile—the kind that could melt steel. Charming, effortless, disarming.

"Hey, Nikolai," I said, trying to smile back, trying to match his brightness with my dull one.

"How was your night?" He asked casually.

The question was innocent... but my mind wasn't. My body definitely wasn't.

It was great, Nikolai—because I dreamt about your devastatingly hot, married twin brother fucking me so hard I woke up sweating.

But I didn't say that. Of course I didn't.

Instead, I nodded politely, keeping my face neutral. "It was fine."

"Raul isn't back yet," he said, walking beside me.

"He'll be returning in a week. After that, we'll start shooting. So, looks like you've got an extra week to rehearse. I'll help."

I smiled, genuinely this time.

"Thanks. That'll help a lot."

He led me to the theater, the same space I'd auditioned in, and my eyes immediately locked onto the pole in the center of the room.

Memories from that day slammed into me like a freight train—his eyes watching me, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that existed.

"Angel."

Nikolai's voice snapped me out of it, his fingers clicking softly in front of my face.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, concern flickering across his brow.

I swallowed and gave a faint smile.

"It's nothing, Nikolai."

He didn't believe me. I could tell by the way he stepped closer and gently took my arm, his gray eyes locked on mine.

"Are you sure, amoré? You didn't look fine just now."

I froze. Caged between his arms. Trapped in his concern. Drowning in the intensity of a gaze I didn't want to analyze.

Raul's face flashed in my mind, a dark silhouette that somehow still overshadowed the warmth in front of me.

"I-I'm serious, Nikolai. I'm okay." I pulled away, avoiding his eyes.

He tilted his head. "Do you have a boyfriend, Angel?"

The question caught me off guard. My eyes widened slightly. "No. Why?"

"You always seem tense when I'm this close. Like you're afraid someone will see. Like you're cheating." His tone dropped. "Who is he?"

His body closed the distance between us, step by step, until my back hit the wall and I had nowhere else to go.

"I—I don't have a boyfriend," I stammered. "And I'm not tense. I'm just... not used to being this close to a guy."

He leaned in, his breath teasing my lips. "Or is it because you have feelings for someone else?"

My heart slammed against my chest. His eyes dropped to my mouth. He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Nikolai..." I pressed a shaky hand to his chest, pushing him back gently.

My voice trembled. "Please."

He exhaled, stepping back with a hint of regret.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

He didn't move far though. He hovered behind me, his presence like heat on my skin.

"It's fine, Nikolai," I said, keeping my eyes averted. "And I'm sorry too. I'm just not used to this."

We didn't say much after that. The awkward air slowly gave way to something more productive, and we focused on rehearsals.

He was helpful, patient, even playful at times—and I found myself laughing more than I expected to.

He wasn't Raul. He was... different.

While Raul was cold, unreadable, and distant, Nickolai was light, easygoing, and warm. He made it easier to breathe.

The hours slipped by, and before I knew it, the sun was setting. Dusk settled softly across the sky, and we finally decided to call it a day.

"Dinner?" He offered with a boyish smile.

I hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Sure."

He took me to the same restaurant we went to yesterday.

"You really love this place, huh?" I teased as we sat down.

He chuckled. "Yeah. They make the best foreign dishes. Reminds me of home."

I smiled at that. And when the food came, I didn't hesitate—I dug in like I hadn't eaten in days.

Because for once, I wasn't thinking about Raul.