Chapter 1

My husband, Michael Turner, was deathly allergic to mangoes.

In eight years of marriage, not a single mango had ever been in our house.

But then, at a company team-building event, I saw him at a trendy dessert shop, sharing mango pudding with the new intern, Emily Winters.

They even shared a mango smoothie.

I didn't say a word, walked over, and sat down right across from them.

Michael fumbled to hide his spoon, his voice shaky. "She can't handle the team-building food, so I'm keeping her company."

I didn't argue. Instead, I bought every mango dessert in the shop and piled them all on their table. "Take your time. There's no hurry."

If he finished it, we would go our separate ways. If he did not, I would not let this drop.

*****

I crossed my arms and lounged back in my chair, gesturing toward them with my eyes. "Go ahead."

All the mango desserts from the shop sat before them, and there was so much food that it would not fit on one table. The staff had to bring over another table.

Looking at all those mangoes was enough to make one's head spin.

"Honey, you know I'm allergic to mangoes," Michael said, his face pale.

I looked at him. "You know how stubborn I am. Since I said it, you're eating these mangoes. Like it or not, that's your only option. Allergic to mangoes? Fine, then let her eat them."

I glanced at Emily, who'd been hiding behind Michael ever since I walked in.

Michael's hero complex kicked in right away. He moved to shield Emily protectively. "This has nothing to do with her. Don't make things hard for her."

I nodded. "Alright, then you eat them."

Seeing my expression, Michael knew there was no way out of this today.

Emily spoke up softly. "Ms. Zeller, my stomach isn't good, so I couldn't eat the food at the event. That's why I asked Mr. Turner to come with me."

I shot her a look. "I'm talking to my husband. Who asked you to butt in?"

Emily froze, her eyes reddening as she lowered her head. She looked like she'd been hit with the biggest injustice ever.

"She's merely an intern. She hasn't done anything to you. Do you have to be so harsh?" Michael finally couldn't take it anymore and spoke up.

I glanced at my freshly manicured nails, completely unbothered. "She had the nerve to come between my marriage and play the mistress. Why should I give her any dignity?

"And I'm a total neat freak. If you touch what's mine, that's stealing. Every time you try, I'll make sure you regret it. If you insist on humiliating yourself, that's on you."

Emily's lips quivered, and she bolted out of the dessert shop in tears.

Michael jumped up, ready to chase after her.

"If you walk out that door today, tomorrow her dirty laundry will be plastered all over the internet," I warned. "Don't believe me? Try it and see."

Michael hesitated, then sat back down, staring at me for what felt like forever. In the end, he caved. "Fine. I'll eat."

Then, he grabbed the mango pudding and started stuffing it into his mouth. He shot me a defiant look, like he was daring me to stop him.

I kept fiddling with my new nails, not sparing him a glance.

After finishing one mango pudding, red welts started popping up all over his face and arms.

I knew he was gambling, betting I would go soft on him.

I shoved the rest of the mango desserts right in front of him. "Go ahead."

He wolfed down every mango dessert.

Slowly, I could see he was struggling to breathe.

He looked up at me, waiting for me to call it off.

I only pushed more mango desserts toward him. Since he loved mango desserts so much, I would let him eat till he was sick.

After he finished a whole table of mango desserts, his face looked worse by the minute.

Even the staff started to notice something was seriously wrong. "Miss, this guy looks like he's allergic to mangoes. Hurry up and call 911."

I waved them off, signaling them to stay out of it. "There's still another table. Don't stop. Keep eating."

His breathing got more and more labored. Eventually, he collapsed to the floor, completely out cold.

The customers and staff were all freaking out.

I finally called 911 and rode with him to the hospital.

*****

When Michael woke up and saw me standing by his bed, he froze for a second.

"Wow, you must have nine lives. All those mangoes, and you still didn't kick the bucket." I didn't bother to hide my sarcasm.

Michael sighed, "Sarah, did you really have to blow things up like this? I've never forgotten everything you've done for me all these years. I would never cheat on you."

I stared him down. "Michael, cheating isn't only about the body. I'm a neat freak. Even emotional cheating is a dealbreaker for me. Can you honestly say you never caught feelings for Emily?"

Michael fell silent.

After a long pause, he finally looked up. "It's all on me. Leave her out of this. She's a kid trying to survive in a new city. It's tough for her."

I clapped. He really was a responsible man.

I sneered, "If you were single, I wouldn't care if she chased you. But you're married, and she still dares to flirt with you right in front of me? Clearly, she's not as innocent as she pretends."

The hospital room door slammed open.

Emily's eyes were red and swollen. She gritted her teeth, shooting me a stubborn glare. "Ms. Zeller, in relationships, the unloved one is the real mistress. Mr. Turner hasn't cared about you for ages. Everything is you being desperate."

I nodded. She was brave, actually having the nerve to show off in front of me.

I walked right up to her, stopped, raised my hand, and slapped her hard across the face. The crisp sound of the slap echoed in the room.

Michael shot up in bed, stunned.

I stared her down and said, "Some spots are out of your league. No matter how hard you try, you'll always be the shameless mistress.

"I'm not letting you off because I'm scared. It's because you're not qualified to stand here and compare yourself to me. But since you dared to dance in front of me, I don't mind teaching you what real rules look like."

Emily covered her face and glared at me, still defiant. But she didn't dare say another word.

I turned to Michael and spoke with an apology. "Sorry, Mr. Turner. But you'd better keep your mistress in check. Next time she tries to show off in front of me, it won't only be a slap."