My Mogul Mother Gifted Me A Younger Lover Chapter 1

After five years of marriage and two children, my body was a roadmap of stretch marks and the soft, loose skin that now draped my midsection.

Predictably, my CEO husband, Blake Harrington, had found himself a young secretary—barely out of college—and was now flaunting her on his arm, in the open, for anyone to see.

Consumed by a grief so sharp it felt like physical pain, I fled to my wealthy mother's office to cry.

She sat behind her massive mahogany desk, lit a cigarette, and watched me with unconcealed disdain. "He keeps a mistress, why don't you keep a boy?"

I sputtered, "Mom? Are you telling me to cheat?"

She shook her head. "No, Anna. I'm teaching you to love yourself."

* * *

I was driving the boys to school when I found out Blake was cheating.

Amid the cacophony of the morning traffic and the usual sibling squabble in the back seat, my own pulse was a frantic, off-key drumbeat.

I managed to hit the power button on my phone, killing the screen and hiding the image of Blake and Kira Bell—his new secretary—locked in a desperate, office-supply-closet kiss.

My hands trembled on the steering wheel.

Landon, my older son, demanded, "Mom, please hurry. I'm going to be late."

He was the spitting image of Blake: polite, reserved, and strangely self-sufficient. I used to be proud of his composure, convinced I had raised a remarkably mature child. Now, looking at his cool, indifferent hazel eyes, I felt a sudden, chilling fear.

"Honey," I asked, the words catching in my throat. "If your father and I were to separate, who would you choose?"

Landon Harrington glanced at me, his expression flat, and said nothing.

When we reached the school curb, he gathered his backpack.

He looked at me with the calculation of a much older man. "Mom, you don't have a job, and you haven't spoken to Grandma Sterling in years. If you separate, I'll have to choose Dad."

My younger son, Carter, who usually followed Landon's lead on everything, piped up instantly. "I want Dad too. I'll choose Dad!"

I felt as if I’d plummeted through thin ice into a freezing lake.

After dropping Carter off at his pre-school, I drove to the nearest empty park and finally allowed myself to open the image again.

The sender was an anonymous account, but the message was a deluge. Mrs. Harrington, you're too sweet and devoted. I didn't want you to be blindsided. Kira, she explained, had started as a client assistant. Blake, upon meeting the "cute and hyper-competent" girl, immediately promoted her to his executive assistant.

Stop being a naive housewife, Anna. You need to start thinking about yourself.

If you don't fight back, she's going to take your life.

Blake is flying out this week, and he specifically requested her. He had someone book a king-sized suite and a bouquet of a hundred roses.

A king-sized suite. A hundred roses. The symbols of romance Blake had only offered me during our brief, feverish courtship were now being packaged for another woman.

My palm felt icy cold. I clenched and unclenched my fist, leaving half-moon indentations in my skin.

I knew I wasn't a master strategist. I certainly wasn't the cunning type. After exhausting all my useless internal debates, I reached for my phone and called my mother's private line.