The Mistress’s Regret After Demanding I Kneel and Apologize

To surprise my husband for his birthday while he was away on a business trip, I boarded a flight to East Harbor Bay alone. A woman draped in head-to-toe designer tweed, with diamond bracelets stacked along one wrist, splashed iced cranberry juice all over my cashmere coat. All I did was glance up at her. Her face looked vaguely familiar, but before I could say a word, she started shrieking. "What are you looking at? Who do you think you are, staring at me like that?" I almost laughed from sheer disbelief. "Excuse me, you're the one who spilled your drink on me. I haven't even said anything, and you're already throwing a fit?" The passengers around us turned to look, but the woman only lifted her chin higher. "I'll have you all know that my husband owns Winslow Holdings. Anyone who dares take her side today will never work on the East Coast again!" I froze. Winslow Holdings was the company my grandfather, Henry Winslow, had built from the ground up, and my family trust still owned it. How could it possibly belong to her husband? Chapter 1 The woman saw my expression harden, and her smirk turned even more vicious. "What, scared? You should feel lucky I spilled my drink on you. It's probably the closest someone like you will ever get to the Winslow family. I could have made you wipe my shoes clean in front of everyone. Consider yourself lucky I have class." I've never been one for public confrontations, but her arrogance was beyond absurd. "You're the one in the wrong," I said coldly. "Even if you really do come from old money, you don't get to make someone else apologize for your bad behavior." "Because I am Mrs. Winslow!" She slapped her handbag against her lap. "I am Vera Rossi! Who in East Harbor society hasn't heard of my name? Forget an apology. I could have you thrown off this flight, and no one would stop me." When I heard that name, it finally clicked. Vera Rossi had gained a modest following on social media by flaunting her bay-front villa, private chef, and charity gala invitations. I couldn't care less about what was real or fake online, but the moment she started riding my family name to prop herself up, I wasn't about to let it slide. I scoffed. "Winslow Holdings? Then do you even know the name of Winslow Holdings' current executive director?" Seeing that I'd brought it up, she immediately put on her lofty airs. "Of course. Noah Grant. My husband. How could I not know?" Looking at the certainty on her face, the last shred of hope inside me shattered. My husband, the man who had married into the Winslow family, had been cheating on me behind my back. He'd even been passing off the company my grandfather left behind as his own kingdom. I swallowed the fury rising inside me. "Funny. I've heard that the heir to Winslow Holdings has the last name Winslow. I've never heard of anyone named Grant claiming to represent the entire family." Vera folded her arms and laughed dismissively. "Real insider information would never reach a woman who makes a living clinging to rich men. Noah keeps a low profile to protect the family from gold diggers trying to latch on to old money." I caught her implication and frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?" She pointed at the photo on my laptop screen, a picture of me and my father at the equestrian club, then let her gaze travel from my heels to my coat. "You're wearing some no-name vintage coat, yet you're sitting in first class. And in that photo, you're cozying up to an older man with a big smile. What does that make you but some rich man's kept woman? If I were you, I'd hide my face instead of flaunting myself like this." The coat I was wearing had been made by a bespoke tailor in London, cut from a pattern my mother left behind, with every button hand-carved. That single coat was worth more than every flashy designer label on Vera's body combined. My father despised the media. He never gave public interviews, and his face was nearly impossible to find anywhere online. I never imagined any of that would become, in her eyes, evidence that I was being kept. "Watch your mouth." I locked eyes with her. "Come after me if you want, but don't you dare insult my father." Vera clapped a hand over her mouth in exaggerated amusement. "Listen to this. This bitch is calling her sugar daddy 'Dad' right here in first class." Whispers rippled through the cabin. Not far away, a middle-aged woman wearing a pearl necklace who looked vaguely familiar stood up and shot me a look of disgust. "Mrs. Grant, don't let yourself get worked up over this kind of woman. You'd only be lowering yourself." Vera and I both turned to look at her. Vera frowned. "And you are?" The woman immediately plastered on an ingratiating smile. "I'm Patricia Howard, with Howard Real Estate. You may not remember me. My husband's company recently submitted a proposal to the Winslow East Harbor division for the South Shore waterfront redevelopment project." Her words jogged my memory. Howard Real Estate had been chasing that project for the better part of a year. Right before I boarded this flight, I'd been ready to choose between them and another developer. Now, that decision had just made itself. Vera clearly knew nothing about any of this. Her eyes flickered for a moment before she said in a languid drawl, "So you're Mrs. Howard." Mrs. Howard chimed in at once. "Mrs. Grant, please don't stoop to her level. Girls these days refuse to earn an honest living. They use a pretty face to worm their way into high society. She probably knew exactly who you were and picked this fight on purpose, hoping to catch Mr. Grant's attention." I turned to her, my voice flat. "Mrs. Howard, are you sure you want to take that tone with me? Because I'd think twice about whether Howard Real Estate's contract can survive it." Chapter 2 Neither Vera nor Mrs. Howard expected me to stay this composed after hearing them announce their identities. The smile on Mrs. Howard's face froze, then twisted into indignation. "What would a kept woman hiding in the shadows know about our contract?" She turned to the other passengers, raising her voice. "Everyone, take a good look at this face. Don't be fooled by her act of innocence. Sitting in first class doesn't mean you have money. For all we know, every dollar she has was stolen from another woman's family." The passengers exchanged bewildered glances. Several people pulled out their phones. Cameras pointed our way, and the whispering grew louder and louder. The lead flight attendant stepped forward to intervene, but Vera silenced her with a single glare. "If anyone interferes today, I'll have my lawyers come after your airline. Don't forget whose money paid to renovate the executive lounge at East Harbor Airport." The attendant's expression tightened. She could only step back and give me an apologetic look. I watched the two of them play off each other and felt nothing but absurdity. One was my husband's mistress, parading around under my family's name. The other was the wife of a vendor desperate for my approval, eager to kick a stranger just to prove her loyalty. And together, they'd teamed up to brand me the homewrecker. Vera took my silence as a sign she'd struck a nerve. She walked up to me and jabbed a long red fingernail into my chest. "What, nothing to say? Scared now? I don't need you to kneel. Get down there, wipe the drink off my shoes, and apologize." Mrs. Howard snickered behind her hand. I took a deep breath. "I suggest you take your hand off me." "Still pretending you're some kind of society heiress?" Vera sneered. "Your sugar daddy must have made you feel untouchable." Mrs. Howard piled on. "And what good will that do her? The Winslows could cut her off with a phone call." The captain announced our descent. I bit back my anger and reached for my laptop. I still didn't know whether Vera had been deceived by Noah or was a willing participant. The plane was too cramped for this. I'd deal with it after we landed. But my reaching for my things looked like guilt to them. "Leaving so soon?" Vera grabbed my wrist. "Too late for that." Before I could react, she slapped me hard across the face. My ears rang. My cheek burned, and the taste of blood filled my mouth. I was the only child of this generation of Winslows, cherished by my grandfather and parents from the day I was born. Even after taking over the company and getting used to cold shoulders in the boardroom, I had never been humiliated like this. Vera flicked her wrist and looked down at me. "That slap was a lesson in knowing your place, on behalf of your sugar daddy." Mrs. Howard was quick to agree. "Why dirty your own hands on someone like her? She's not worth it." I touched my burning cheek and let out a cold laugh. The next second, I grabbed a fistful of Vera's carefully styled curls and yanked her head back. The slaps rained down, one after another. The cabin erupted. Flight attendants rushed over and pulled us apart. Vera screamed. "You're insane! You actually hit me! I swear I'm calling my husband right now. When I'm done, no hotel in East Harbor will even let you through the door!" I stared at her coldly. "Go ahead and call. I'd love to see who ends up on their knees begging after we land." Vera wasted no time dialing Noah. She cried, practiced and pitiful all at once. "Honey, someone on the plane is bullying me. She slapped my face and said Winslow Holdings doesn't belong to you." A voice I knew all too well came through the speaker. "Ridiculous. Someone actually had the nerve to bully my wife? Didn't you tell her you're Mrs. Winslow? Sit tight. I'm sending someone to the airport for you." The word wife hit me like a punch to the chest. Just before I boarded this flight, he'd said my name in that gentle voice and promised to make it up to me with dinner when I came home. Yet now he was calling the woman who had humiliated me his wife. I was about to speak when the call went dead. Vera lifted her chin in triumph. "You heard him, didn't you? Once we land, you'll find out exactly who you messed with." A faint smile touched my lips. "Good. Let's see how long you can keep lying to everyone." Chapter 3 After landing, Vera, Mrs. Howard, and I made our way to the private arrivals exit. A black company sedan was already waiting at the curb, its silver emblem glinting under the lights and drawing plenty of stares. I recognized the plates instantly. It was registered under the Winslow East Harbor division. I was about to step forward when a man with slicked-back hair climbed out of the car, walked right past me, and went straight to Vera. His face was plastered with an obsequious grin. "Mrs. Grant, you must be exhausted from the trip." Mrs. Howard's voice pitched up immediately. "Mrs. Grant, look how much Mr. Grant adores you. He sent a company car just for you. Very few people in East Harbor get picked up in one of these. It proves you're the one closest to his heart." The flattery clearly pleased Vera. She gave a poised smile. "Mrs. Howard, I'll remember that you spoke up for me today. I'll have Noah take a look at your company's proposal." Mrs. Howard's eyes lit up. "That would mean the world. Thank you." Vera turned to me, triumph written all over her face. "Luca, perfect timing. There's a woman here who doesn't know when to quit. She insulted me on the plane and even had the nerve to hit me." Luca Bennett's expression darkened at once. He strode over to me. "Mr. Grant told me what happened on the way over. So you're the one who disrespected Mrs. Grant on the plane?" Since its founding, the East Harbor division had been managed by Noah day to day. It made sense that the East Harbor staff had never seen me. What I hadn't expected was how well they knew Vera, or that they would call her Mrs. Grant in public without a second thought. I folded my arms, adopting the same tone I used in the boardroom. "Open your eyes and take a good look at who I am." Luca swept his gaze over me, contempt barely concealed. "Aren't you just some woman whose first-class ticket was paid for by a man? And you think you can put on airs in front of Mrs. Grant." I looked at him coldly. "Didn't Mr. Grant ever show you a picture of the real Mrs. Winslow?" Luca laughed as if he'd heard a joke. "Of course I know. You're looking at her. Miss Rossi. Unless you expect me to believe it's you? A dozen women in East Harbor try that line every year." Passengers from our flight gathered around, eager for the show. Luca gave me a knowing look. "Mrs. Grant, you don't come to East Harbor often, so you wouldn't know. Women around here are always trying to claw their way into a wealthy family. She probably hired some private investigator, found out Mr. Grant would be at the airport today, and picked a fight with you on purpose. She's waiting for him to show up so she can play the damsel in distress." The crowd's interest only sharpened at the mention of a wealthy family and a mistress. "Looks so young, but doing things like that behind closed doors." "The understated ones are always the most calculating." The fury I'd held in check for the entire flight finally boiled over. "Winslow Holdings bears the name Winslow. I am the Winslow family heir." After a beat of silence, several people burst out laughing. Mrs. Howard laughed the loudest. "Did everyone hear that? A woman who can't even dress the part is claiming to be the Winslow heir." Luca scoffed. "If you're the Winslow heir, then I'm the president. The things people make up about themselves these days." Vera pulled out her phone, shoved the camera in my face, and started a livestream. "Everyone, look. This is the woman. She insulted me and hit me on the plane, and now she's claiming to be the heir to Winslow Holdings." Comments flooded the screen. "Who has the nerve to hit Vera?" "Where are the Winslow lawyers? Get out here and handle this." "Don't worry, Vera. We're all watching. She's not getting away." Vera turned the screen toward me, grinning with the confidence of someone who'd already won. "You can still apologize. Admit you lied, and maybe I'll ask Noah to let you off easy." I knocked her phone aside. "You don't believe me? Then let your so-called husband tell you himself." I was reaching for my own phone to call Noah when Vera suddenly shoved me. My ankle had an old injury that hadn't fully healed. I lost my balance and fell backward. There was no way I was going down without a fight. I grabbed her wrist on instinct. She wasn't ready for it and went tumbling down with me. Behind us, a familiar male voice cut through the air, sharp with anger. "What is going on here?" Chapter 4 Vera and I looked up at the same time and saw Noah Grant stepping out of another dark sedan. He clearly saw me, but his gaze lingered on me for only a fraction of a second before shifting to Vera. Noah hurried over and helped Vera to her feet, his face full of concern. His voice was tight with concern. "Vera, are you hurt anywhere? Does your stomach hurt?" The moment Vera saw Noah, her eyes brimmed with tears. "Honey, look at my face. She hit me so hard it's swollen." Noah cupped her face and kissed her temple. Their intimacy cut into my heart like a dull blade. Mrs. Howard stood nearby, piling on without pause. "Mr. Grant, you have to stand up for your wife. This woman is out of control. She acted like she owned the plane, and even I couldn't take it anymore." Noah frowned at her. "And you are?" Mrs. Howard beamed. "I'm Patricia Howard, with Howard Real Estate. We recently submitted a proposal for the South Shore waterfront redevelopment project." Noah's frown deepened. Vera seemed to sense something was off and quickly tugged at his sleeve. Noah understood at once and gave a perfunctory nod. I watched the whole scene unfold. It was so absurd I almost laughed. Noah and I had met at an Ivy League university. Back then, I'd hidden my identity and lived like an ordinary student for four years. After graduation, he struggled because of his modest background. He'd gotten drunk in front of me more than once, saying he wasn't worthy of standing by my side. I couldn't bear to see him like that. I told him who I was and brought him into Winslow Holdings. Three years ago, when my father opened the East Harbor division, I worried that marrying into my family had already bruised Noah's pride. I was the one who suggested putting him in charge of day-to-day operations. He had no idea which partnerships were controlled by the Manhattan headquarters, and he certainly didn't know the final decision on the South Shore waterfront redevelopment project had been sitting on my desk the entire time. A while back, I'd taken a fall at the equestrian club. The ligaments in my ankle still hadn't fully recovered. The fall had ripped through the old injury. Pain shot up my leg, leaving me unable to stand. Yet the man who had once sat at my bedside through the entire night, holding my hand and swearing he'd take care of me for the rest of his life, now spared me nothing more than a cold glance. "So you're the one who bullied my wife?" Wife. Vera was his wife. Then what was I? Less than three years into our marriage, he could already tell that lie as if it were the truth. Mrs. Howard picked up Vera's phone from the ground. Watching the viewer count climb, her voice actually trembled with excitement. "Mr. Grant, Mrs. Grant, I'm recording everything. Let everyone see what happens to a woman who wrecks a marriage and still has the nerve to raise her hand." Noah's gaze flickered for just an instant, but he didn't stop her. I fought through the pain in my ankle and the cold ache in my chest. "Noah Grant. Do you even hear yourself right now?" Noah gave a mocking smile. "Since when does someone like you get to call me by name?" I braced myself against the wall and slowly straightened up. "Playing stranger, are we?" "Fine. Then it's time we settled our accounts. All of them." "Who paid your tuition for four years? Who used family connections to get you your first job? Who put you in charge of the East Harbor division? That Rolls-Royce you drive was a wedding gift from my father. Who do you think made any of this possible? Have you forgotten?" Chapter 5 Before Noah could respond, Vera jumped to his defense. "Who do you think you are, spouting nonsense like that? Everyone in East Harbor's social circles knows my husband runs Winslow Holdings. There's a limit to how far you can push this scam." Mrs. Howard was quick to back her up. "This woman is clearly unstable. Call airport security and have her removed before she causes another scene." Seeing the dark look on Noah's face, Luca marched up to me and shoved me again. I was already unsteady on my feet. I fell backward and hit the ground, the pavement scraping my palms raw. Luca loomed over me. "I've seen plenty of women like you. Mr. and Mrs. Grant are both here. You don't get to make a scene." I fixed my eyes on Noah, jaw clenched so tight I thought my teeth would crack. "Noah. You're not even pretending anymore, is that it?" Noah murmured a few words to calm Vera, then walked over to me. He crouched down, his voice dropping low enough that only I could hear. "Since you've figured it out, there's no point pretending anymore. Vera is pregnant with my child. If you want a divorce, fine. But some of your shares in Winslow Holdings come with me." I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but naked greed. At last, I saw him for what he was. "So you knew who I was from the very beginning?" "That's right." Noah laughed under his breath. "Sophomore year, I overheard you talking to your father outside the library. Not just anyone carries the Winslow name. I approached you on purpose. I studied with you, stayed up all night with you, and pretended to be ordinary because you did. When we married, you were so determined to protect my pride that you never asked for a prenup. The moment we divorce, I'm entitled to my share of the marital assets." I actually laughed. "Noah, you can have your divorce. But you won't be taking a single cent of Winslow money with you." Just then, someone in the crowd spoke up. "Isn't the Winslow Holdings heir actually a woman?" Someone else picked up the thread immediately. "I worked on a due diligence report at a Manhattan law firm. The current heir to Winslow Holdings is the founder's granddaughter. She almost never appears in public." "The year the East Harbor division was established, I think I heard something about the heiress's husband being sent to manage it. His last name was Grant, wasn't it?" The murmuring grew louder and louder. A strange calm settled over me. Noah and Vera, meanwhile, went pale. They exchanged a glance, clearly wanting to slip away before things got worse. Before they could turn away, a fleet of dark company sedans swept into the restricted pickup lane and stopped in a precise row. The doors opened, and a line of security guards in black suits stepped out. The middle car's door opened, and my parents stepped out. Flanked by security, they hurried toward us. My father walked up to Noah and struck him across the face with a crack that echoed through the terminal. "You ungrateful bastard. How dare you treat my daughter this way!"