💮͓̽His Mistress💮

Hymns and Hypocrisy.

💮Angel💮

Catalina's scream tore through the house. It echoed from downstairs, shrill and furious—loud enough to rattle my bones and pull me from my dreams.

"What the fuck is this, Raul?" Confusion clouded my mind as I glanced at the empty space beside me. Raul was gone.

I threw the covers off, my body still tingling from last night's intimacy, and hurried to the bathroom to freshen up.

I had just stepped into the hallway, drawn by the commotion, when her next words froze me in place.

"For fuck's sake, Raul, your pictures are all over the tabloids! Have you seen the headlines?" she shrieked.

My eyes narrowed, and I slipped back to my room, heart pounding.

I flicked on the television, and there it was—a photo of Raul and me, caught in a stolen moment under the city lights.

The headline blared: "Famous billionaire Raul Favio D'Amano spotted with rising co-star Angel Azzura Caribello late at night. Are they just co-stars, or is there more to their chemistry?"

The journalist's voice droned on: "Questions swirl around the pair, as this isn't their first public sighting. Is it the movie keeping them close, or a secret romance brewing between them?"

I sank onto the bed, raking my fingers through my curls, my stomach twisting. I knew this day would come, the day our relationship would eventually be exposed, but not this soon.

I wasn't ready—not for the society's backlash, and especially not for facing Mom.

"Honestly, I'd ship Raul and Angel over his stuck-up wife any day. That girl's a total heartbreaker."

A brunette journalist smiled as a photo of me lit up the screen.

Then, a man with a French accent laughed. "I'm Team Razzura all the way!" The panel chuckled, their approval echoing in my ears.

They moved on to the next headline, but the damage was done. Our faces, our names... they were everywhere.

"I'll be fucked if Mom sees this," I muttered, dread pooling in my chest.

I needed to speak with Raul. Now.

Ignoring the buzz of my phone, I steeled myself and headed downstairs—only to hear her voice erupt again.

"Your silence is killing me, Raul!" Catalina screamed, slamming her fist on the dining table.

As soon as I stepped into the living room, his eyes found mine instantly. Her gaze followed, landing on me with venom.

"You whore!" she shrieked, storming toward me, her hands raised to strike.

I sidestepped swiftly, brushing her aside, and walked straight to Raul.

"Raul, you have to do something," I pleaded, my voice trembling. "We're not ready for this. My mom...."

He grabbed my wrists.

"Caramella, relax. I'll handle it. You don't need to worry," he assured, his thumb stroking my cheek, sending a shiver through me despite the chaos.

"Caramella?" Catalina's voice cracked, disbelief painting her face.

"You're fucking serious, Raul? I'm your wife, and you've never used a pet name for me, never looked at me like that, never held me that way. Yet here you are, fawning over your mistress in front of me!"

He didn't regard her, his focus unwavering on me.

"I'll handle this, alright?" His voice was a low promise, calming the storm in my chest. I nodded, trusting him completely.