Why Would A Wife Fake Her Death If Her Husband Has A Mistress?

He chose his mistress on our anniversary. He didn't know I was already planning my funeral. For three years, I was the perfect wife. I swallowed the insults from his family. I bore the guilt of our daughter’s death. Everyone blamed me. Yet, I loved Mateo Santiago with everything I had. Until the day I found out the truth. On the same day I discovered I was pregnant again, I learned my husband was expecting a child with another woman: my own step-aunt, Valentina. And worse? I finally discovered that he was the one responsible for our first daughter's death, not me. I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I simply texted him: "Your birthday is in a month. I’ll prepare a gift you’ll never forget." Thirty days later, Mateo Santiago watched my car burn at the bottom of a cliff. He buried an empty casket and cried for a wife he thought he loved. But Isabella Romano didn't die that day. She just disappeared. I was not alone anymore. I had another life growing inside me but then I stumbled upon a stranger. A stranger shadows feared. Dante Galante.

My marriage to Bryan wasn’t perfect, but it was never bad enough for me to want him dead. Yet when he was brutally murdered in a hotel room, every finger pointed at me. His family accused me. The world believed them I spent months behind bars for a crime I didn’t commit. My empire crumbled. My only child now sees me as a murderer. I was bullied, broken, and forgotten until Damon stepped back into my life. Damon, my ex-lover, is now fighting to clear my name. He has one goal: to set me free. But he has another theory, one more shocking than the accusation itself, My Husband could be faking his death to make me suffer and start a new life with his mistress . Freedom didn’t make life easier. Outside those prison walls, I’m paying for my husband’s mistakes while battling for custody of my son, his family took everything from me but what if i turned everything around in my favour? And the question haunting me remains: Or how long was my supposed dead husband going to keep hiding?

Marriage is a sacred blessing given to a couple who love each other, forming a family. We do not aim for a perfect relationship, but rather a good one that is incomparable to others. Either you have to face a bunch of happiness or you have to face a bunch of sadness. Jane is a thirty-one-year-old woman, a wife, and a loving mother to her children. She is married to a man of honor, a famous businessman named Jester. Her husband, Jester, is a thirty-two-year-old boy endowed with a good appearance and an outstanding performance when it comes to the job description. At first, the couple lived happily and contentedly even without being blessed with a child. When Jane got pregnant after a long wait, few changes were observed in her husband. Jester was distracted by his wife's body figure that made him uncomfortable living with it. Also, Jester's parents arranged for them to get a divorce, but Jane declined it. Until the time came, the wife noticed her husband's frequent vacations abroad. She followed him and found out that her husband had a woman. She examines all the reasons why Jester did this to her, but even her parents were also forced to hide the truth from her. In her rage, she found a way to take revenge on her husband. In this plot, is it possible that Jester had something else to hide from his wife before they got married? Or what is the man’s main reason for having a mistress? And the worst question is, why is his wife called a mistress? Let's take a look at the reality of this story together.

My sister-in-law sent me a photo of her kissing my husband on the beach. Just a few minutes later, she deleted the photo and sent me a text saying, “Oops, sent to the wrong person. Lol.” I knew it was deliberate. It was never a mistake. She wanted me to see how happy my husband was with her. Clara was never my sister-in-law. Three years ago, my husband had lied about her, claiming she was his younger sister, and I believed him. But after five years of marriage, I discovered—far too late—that Clara was never his sister. She was his mistress, his childhood lover, the woman he had been sleeping with under the same roof as me while making me serve her as if she were truly my sister-in-law. And now what? He had lied again… said he was going on a business trip. Yet Clara had just sent me a picture—a cute, sickening picture—of my husband happily kissing the very woman he had once claimed was his younger sister. The photo carried a timestamp showing the exact time and location. It was real. There was no denying it. They were in Hawaii, on a beach, laughing, kissing, and having the time of their lives… while he had made me believe he was away on business. Without saying a word, I saved the picture and posted it straight to Instagram, captioning it: "Congratulations to my sister-in-law… on finally becoming the official wife.” Then I turned off my phone and went to bed. The next morning, after having breakfast with my cat, Lulu, and taking the warmest bath ever, I turned my phone back on—and froze. Over 200 missed calls were waiting for me. Notifications exploded across my phone. And it didn’t stop there—the number of unattended messages kept climbing past 250.

I had personally trained Damiano Vestri and brought him up the ranks to become the mafia’s Don. The family’s inner circle accepted him, and he was loyal only to me. Whenever bullets went flying, he would always shield me and take many of them for me. The night before our wedding, I waited for his return, but what I got was news of his death. A week later, I received an email with a pregnancy report and a photo. The photo showed Damiano caressing another woman’s belly. It turned out he had faked his death so that he could be with his first love. The due date for her pregnancy was approaching. I scoffed and clicked the safety off on my gun. If he wanted to fake his death, I would help him turn it into a real one.

In my previous life, my husband had suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind a massive mountain of debt. For the sake of my son, who was still in high school, I sold the house my parents had left me, gritted my teeth, and worked three jobs to pay off the debt. Overworked and exhausted, my health deteriorated, and I eventually collapsed in the hospital. From my bed, I could hear my son, now a graduate from a prestigious university, smiling as he spoke on the phone. "Hello? Dad, it's me. Yeah, she's about to die. I bought insurance for her, so we should get close to one million. You and Aunt Rena should come back home right away." The "Aunt Rena" he spoke of was none other than my husband's childhood friend and neighbor who had known him for years. It turned out that the debts were all part of a massive money-laundering scheme between my husband and his childhood sweetheart. They had fabricated false accounts to hide their crime, and he had faked his death to escape the law. My son, eager to become the heir to wealth, had stood by and watched me work myself to death. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the moment of my husband's feigned brain hemorrhage, the day it had all begun.