HE HAS A MISTRESS
Janis sat down impatiently, her long nails tapping against the polished wooden table. She despised waiting, especially when other people wasted her time. Behind her stood Hermes, hands neatly folded, his body stiff with exhaustion. The man had been standing for hours, and still, the person they were waiting for wasn't here.
"I'm sorry I'm late," a deep voice said as the man slid into the chair across from her.
Janis arched a brow. "What happened to you? You look… disheveled."
"Almost got into an accident," he muttered, adjusting his wrinkled tie.
Janis didn't care enough to ask how or why. "Hmm."
The man sitting in front of her was Detective Clinton from the Tybis Police Force. Twenty-nine years old, originally from Frankus. Even though Janis was married, she couldn't help but notice his sharp jawline and piercing eyes. Who knew foreigners could look this handsome?
"I was surprised when I got your call, Mrs. Pedro—"
"It's Janis," she cut him off smoothly, lips curling into a mocking smile. "Just Janis."
"Oh." Clinton smirked faintly. "Your husband loves titles. I thought you would too."
"My husband is not important. And I don't want you telling him I met you. We live separate lives—I don't want him in my business. Understood?"
Clinton blinked. This woman… she had a strange way of speaking. It was clear she didn't care about her husband at all. Otherwise, she wouldn't be calling a low-ranked detective in secret.
"Miss Janis, why did you want to see me?"
"Because nobody knows you."
Clinton frowned. "Excuse me?"
"I researched you." Janis leaned back in her chair, studying him like he was one of her pawns. "You grew up in the poor part of Frankus, migrated to Tybis, studied at the police academy. Despite your talent, you were shoved into a low detective rank. You solved the Sunday Elliot murder case, but your boss took the credit. And now? You sit around waiting for this country's rotten system to recognize your worth."
Clinton chuckled bitterly. "You really know how to make someone feel bad."
"I'm not done." Janis's eyes gleamed. "You still believe in a world without corruption, which is pure bullshit—but don't worry, we can work on that naïve mindset. You need to be stronger."
"What's your purpose, Janis?"
She smiled. "I want to make your life meaningful."
Clinton expected her words to thrill him. Instead, fury flashed in his eyes. "Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can look down on me."
"I'm not rich. I'm just as unfortunate as you. I'm an unfortunate woman who married into a strange family."
Clinton scoffed. "You call a failed marriage unfortunate? Do you even know what it means to suffer? To have nothing?"
"Follow me," Janis said calmly, rising to her feet. Hermes was already by her side, leading her out of the restaurant.
Against his better judgment, Clinton followed. He climbed into Janis's Maybach, the luxurious leather interior mocking his resentment. Bastard rich woman calling herself unfortunate. What a joke.
The ride lulled him into sleep. When he woke, he was no longer in the car but in a dimly lit room, surrounded by hooded men. His first instinct screamed: Kidnapped.
"Relax. Your hands and feet are untied," Janis's voice echoed. She shrugged off her coat, handing it to Hermes.
"Where the hell am I?"
"Welcome to my lair." Her lips curved in amusement. "Boys, say hello to Detective Clinton."
The hooded men didn't answer. Their silence dripped with distrust.
"Why bring me here?" Clinton demanded.
"Because I trust you. But if you betray me…" her eyes hardened, "I'll have to kill you."
A 25-year-old threatening him—it would have been laughable, if not for the weight in her voice.
"My name is Antina Janis Jackson."
Clinton stiffened. "Jackson? That family… they're dead."
"No." Janis's voice was sharp, bitter. "I'm alive."
"I don't understand."
"Then let me explain."
---
Clinton listened, eyes widening as Janis unraveled the truth. Documents, photos, evidence—it all piled before him. The once-mighty Jackson family destroyed in a single day. Everyone believed they had perished, yet here she stood, the sole survivor, burning with vengeance.
"What do you want from me?" he asked finally.
"I want you to work with me. I need to reclaim everything my family lost—and shame every one of our enemies." Her eyes blazed red with restrained fury.
"Why would I help you?"
"These men…" she gestured at the hooded figures around them. "They're just like you. Their families, their properties—stolen by those corrupt chaebols. They cried for justice and got nothing. Just like you. Clinton, I'm not only fighting for myself. I'm fighting for all of us."
He looked at their hardened faces. Men who had lost everything. Men who wanted revenge.
"But this is illegal."
"That's why I need you," Janis countered swiftly. "To make it legal. Once we gather enough evidence, we'll take it to court. So, Detective—are you in?"
Silence hung thick in the air until finally, Clinton exhaled. "…Yes."
Hermes led Janis out, driving her straight to Dynamic Motors.
Inside the sleek elevator, Janis checked her reflection, determination etched in her features. Tonight, she was planting bugs in Adrian's office. He hadn't been home in days, and her suspicion was growing.
With the map of the company an employee had slipped her, it was easy to navigate to his office.
The space radiated wealth. Polished mahogany shelves, leather chairs, crystal decanters, every corner reeking of power. Janis was impressed—but there was no time to admire.
She swiftly planted state-of-the-art listening devices around the room, tiny and nearly impossible to detect. Once done, curiosity got the better of her. She sifted through his documents, but they were bland—contracts, business plans. So boring.
Once I get divorced, I'm marrying someone fun. Someone exciting, she thought bitterly.
"What are you doing here?"
Janis froze, papers slipping from her hands. Slowly, she turned. Adrian stood in the doorway with Williams behind him, eyes like ice.
"I… uh… was waiting for you," she lied weakly.
Adrian's stare pierced her. He didn't buy it. This woman never leaves the house. Why now?
"I said—what are you doing here?" His voice was dangerously calm.
Williams shifted uncomfortably. His boss had been in a foul mood for weeks, fueled by family drama. What hurt him most was that Janis hadn't shown the slightest concern. He'd seen Adrian staring at his phone, waiting for her call. He even rang the housekeeper once, asking if Janis had inquired about him. She hadn't. Not once.
Now she was here, pretending.
"I was waiting for you. I haven't seen you all week, so—"
"You didn't care last week. Why now?"
"I didn't want to interrupt your stay at your mistress's house," Janis said casually, "but now I've come to take you home. She's had enough of you."
"Mistress?" Adrian's eyes darkened.
Even Williams flinched at her audacity. Vivian, in contrast, would have wept and begged him home. Janis… didn't care.
"I don't think you have one. I know you do," she pressed.
"You're testing my patience, woman."
"I didn't come here to argue. I came to take you home. Your mistress can't keep you forever—"
Before she could finish, Adrian shoved her against the wall.
"Say mistress one more time, and you'll regret it." His voice was low, deadly.
Janis's pulse spiked. She was terrified, but she masked it with defiance. "What could you possibly do? Kill me? Then I'll haunt you and your mistress—"
"You said it again." Adrian's grip tightened, raising her arms above her head. Their bodies were flush, no space between them. His breath fanned against her cheek. Up close, she noticed how maddeningly handsome he was.
"All men have mistresses," she taunted, her voice shaky. "What's there to be ashamed of?"
"If I had one… aren't you supposed to be jealous?"
"Jealous? Me? Please. If you can have a mistress, then I can have a young boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" Adrian's jaw clenched. "You've got some nerve, wife."
Before she could argue, his lips crashed onto hers.
Shock froze her for a moment, but as his kiss deepened, she melted. Adrian's hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer. Against her will, her arms looped around his neck, her body betraying her.
Behind them, Williams stood rigid, face burning. His boss—stoic, cold Adrian Pedro—was devouring his wife in front of him. It was shameful, inappropriate, unbearable.
"Ahem." He coughed softly.
The couple didn't stop. Adrian's hands roamed, Janis moaning softly against him.
Williams coughed louder. Finally, Janis came back to herself. She shoved Adrian away and fled the office, cheeks flaming.
How could he kiss me in front of his secretary? Has he no shame?
"Williams, have I paid you this month's bonus?" Adrian asked, eyes still on the door Janis had stormed out of.
"No, sir."
"Good. You're not getting one." Adrian strode out, leaving his secretary stunned. What did I do wrong?
Meanwhile, Janis slammed herself into her car. Her heart raced, her lips tingled. She had enjoyed it. That kiss was unlike anything before—none of her high school flings compared.
"Madam, are you alright?" Hermes asked carefully.
"Drive."
"Stop the car." Adrian's voice cut through the air, and Hermes braked.
"What now?" Janis snapped.
"Didn't you say you came to pick me up?"
"I don't want to anymore. Hermes, drive."
But Adrian slipped into the car before they could leave. He eyed Hermes suspiciously.
"How is he so loyal to you? You hardly leave the house. Why is he so close to you?"
"We blacks are loyal to each other," Janis lied easily.
Adrian didn't push. Instead, he studied her beauty. She caught him staring and snapped, "Stop looking at me."
"I wasn't. The buildings outside are fascinating."
"Whatever."
The rest of the ride was heavy with tension. When they arrived, Adrian even opened her door for her. The simple gesture made her blush—but she quickly stomped it down.
Inside, the maids rushed to change her clothes before Adrian noticed she'd been out.
"It's too late," Janis said flatly. "He already knows."
"He knows what?" Adrian's cold voice startled them all.
"That I was looking for his mistress," Janis lied smoothly, fleeing upstairs before he saw her face.
---
Later that night, as she checked her phone, a message from Clinton made her grin.
Clinton: You were right. The Pedro family embezzled funds.
Janis was about to reply when Adrian's voice froze her. "Who are you texting that makes you smile like that?"
"My friend. Davina," she lied, deleting the evidence.
Adrian didn't believe her, but he let it go.
"The Eugene family is hosting a ball for their 30th anniversary."
Janis's eyes lit up. "That means you're leaving the house again, right?"
"Yes. But this time, you're coming with me."
Her joy crashed. "Why?"
"Because you're my wife. And I want them to know who you are."
"I don't want them to know who I am!" she snapped.
"I don't care. You're coming, and that's final."