LOGINShare
Chapter 70: Prince of Magic
publish date:
2026-10-04 23:04:28
Latest chapter
My Statue Husband Chapter 70: Prince of Magic
Vivian's POVI could feel the cold radiating off him before my fingers even grazed his sleeve.It was a deep, subterranean chill—the kind that belonged in dark caverns or ancient burial vaults, not in my sunlit third-floor design studio. Stan stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring down at the city traffic fifteen stories below. His tall, broad frame was silhouetted against the amber glow of the setting sun, but there was no warmth in him. Not anymore."Let me see it, Stan," I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.He didn't move. His jaw remained set in that carved, unforgiving line I had come to know so well. "It is nothing, Vivian.""Don't lie to me." I stepped closer, the soft carpet muffling my footsteps until I was standing right beside him. The scent of pine and crushed earth hovered around him, mixed with the faint, terrifying smell of ozone and dry dust. "You used it again last night, didn't you? When those corporate thugs tried to set
My Statue Husband Chapter 69: Total Rejection
Vivian's POVThe white leather contract sat between us on the glass coffee table like a fresh grave.It was bound in custom silver foil, crisp and unblemished, gleaming under the dim amber light of my tiny, rented apartment. Outside, the rain beat a relentless, hollow rhythm against the windowpanes, blurring the city lights into smears of yellow and red.Leo sat across from me on my worn fabric sofa, looking completely out of place in his tailored three-piece charcoal suit. He didn't look like a man who had dropped unannounced into a drowning woman's living room at ten o'clock on a Tuesday night. He looked like an angel of mercy who knew exactly how much his wings were worth.He smelled of rain, cedarwood, and the obscenely expensive cologne I used to buy him when we still shared a bed and a dream."Read page four," Leo said softly. His voice was as smooth as raw silk, carrying that quiet, intoxicating authority that had swept me off my feet five years ago. "The clause is entirely in
My Statue Husband Chapter 68: Leo’s Despirate Attempt
Vivian's POVThe silence in my apartment wasn't peaceful; it was thick, heavy, and tasted like stale rain.I sat on the edge of the worn sofa, staring at the blurred yellow streetlights bleeding through the fogged windowpane. Every surface in the room was covered in stacked boxes, muted fabric swatches, and legal letters with red headers that I couldn't bear to read again. Forty-eight hours ago, my name was on the cover of every major style magazine in the city. Tonight, I was a disgraced designer, disgraced by a public campaign so thorough that even my oldest friends wouldn't return my texts.In the shadows near the balcony door stood Stan.To anyone walking past the window, he looked like nothing more than an extraordinary piece of art—an ancient, life-sized marble statue of an ancient warrior, carved with muscle so precise and a face so arresting it felt like a holy relic stolen from a museum. But I could feel the faint, steady pulse of magic radiating off his stone skin. I could f
My Statue Husband Chapter 67: Standing Strong
Vivian's POVMy palms were so slick with cold sweat that the heavy brass shears nearly slipped from my grip.I set them down on the oak cutting table with a muffled clatter, breathing in through my nose until my chest ached. The studio smelled of unbleached linen, steam from the industrial press, and the stale, copper tang of fear."Ten seconds, Vivian," Chloe whispered, her hand hovering over the iron deadbolt of the front studio doors. Her knuckles were bone-white, her eyes wide and bloodshot. "The moment I open this door, they’re going to shove cameras straight into your face. There are at least forty journalists out there on the landing. Channel 5 is broadcasting live.""Let them," I said, though my voice sounded paper-thin to my own ears.I looked back over my shoulder one last time. There were no podiums. No microphoned stands. No glossy PR banners or carefully scrubbed statements drafted by corporate lawyers.Instead, my entire workspace lay completely exposed.The heavy cuttin
My Statue Husband Chapter 66: Public Backlash
Vivian’s POVThe rain had been relentless since dawn, turning the alley behind my studio into a murky stream that reflected the ugly neon glare of the city. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool, cold espresso, and fear.I sat at my drafting table, the screen of my laptop illuminating the sharp, rigid contours of my face in the dim room. My eyes burned. I hadn't slept in thirty-six hours, but exhaustion was a luxury I couldn't afford. Not while my name was being dragged through the dirt on every fashion blog, morning show, and social media feed across the country.Fraud. Exploiter. Criminal.The words had been repeated so many times over the last twenty-four hours that they had lost their meaning, turning into a dull, throbbing headache behind my temples. But while the public opinion was a knife, it wasn't the blade that threatened to bleed me dry.It was the money. Or rather, the complete lack of it.My hand hovered over the trackpad as I refreshed the competition por
My Statue Husband Chapter 65: The Dmear Campaign
VivianThe needle slipped, biting deep into the pad of my index finger. A bead of dark blood swelled instantly, threatening to stain the ivory silk draped across my lap.I cursed under my breath, shoving my finger into my mouth to suck away the metallic taste. The studio was dead quiet, save for the hum of the ancient radiator in the corner and the rhythmic, comforting sound of shears sliding through heavy wool on the cutting table across the room.It was 4:00 AM. In three days, my debut independent collection was supposed to walk the runway, proving to everyone—mostly to Zara—that I didn't need the corporate machine to make a name for myself. I didn't need her scraps.I glanced over at the cutting table. Mateo was still there, hunched under the harsh fluorescent light, measuring a bias cut with the kind of precision that couldn’t be taught in any design school. He looked exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes bruised and heavy, but his hands were steady."You should go home, Mate
You May Also Like
Meet My Brothers
Red Thirteen6.1M viewsMarried by Mistake: Mr. Whitman's Sinner Wife
Sixteenth Child13.0M viewsCan't Win Me Back
Ginger Sue3.0M viewsYou're Gonna Miss Me When I'm Gone
Cora Smith693.2K viewsToo Late, Mr. Vale
Silverling180 viewsHis Favorite Mistake
Moxie Gwin 96 viewsTHE CHEF WHO MADE REVENGE HER RECIPE
Peculiar pen88 viewsBACK TO MY WEDDING: MY SECOND LIFE AS A VILLAINESS
Quill-Shadow160 views
