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publish date:
2026-09-09 20:33:04
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Rented Husband Can You Move?
Sylvia's POVWe left Vermont on a Sunday morning.The wedding had been perfect. Bella had cried. Romano had cried. I had cried. Even Adrian, who prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, had teared up during the toast. We had danced until our feet hurt, eaten too much cake, and stayed up late talking on the porch about everything and nothing.Now it was time to go home.The car was packed. Our bags were in the trunk. The coffee was in the cup holders. Adrian was in the driver's seat, his sunglasses on, the radio tuned to a classic rock station that he claimed was "good driving music" and I claimed was "music for old men.""Are you sure you don't want me to drive?" I asked."I'm sure.""You drove the whole way up.""I like driving.""You like controlling things.""Same thing."I laughed and leaned my head against the window. The Vermont countryside rolled past—green hills, old barns, trees just starting to turn. It was beautiful. It was peaceful. It was exactly the kind of morni
Rented Husband Bella’s Marriage
Sylvia's POVThe studio had been open for three months when the first real client walked through the door.It was a Tuesday morning in September. The air was crisp, the leaves were starting to turn, and I was standing in the middle of our reception area, arguing with Marcus about whether the new client chairs were too modern for the exposed brick."They look like spaceships," I said."They look expensive," Marcus countered."They look like spaceships that cost too much money."A throat cleared behind us.We both turned. A woman was standing in the doorway, holding a leather portfolio. She was in her late fifties, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, with silver hair swept back and eyes that missed nothing."Am I interrupting?" she asked."No," I said, stepping forward. "Not at all. Welcome to Chen & Chen Design."She looked around the room, taking in the restored brick, the natural light, the carefully curated mood boards on the wall. Then she looked at me."I'm Eleanor ," she said. "I
Rented Husband What’s Next
Chapter Eighty-FourSylvia's POVThe first time I saw the building, it was raining.Not the romantic kind of rain, the kind that made you want to curl up with a book and a cup of tea. It was the ugly kind. The cold, gray, relentless kind that soaked through your shoes and plastered your hair to your forehead and made you question every decision you had ever made that led you to this exact moment.I was standing on the corner of a quiet street in Brooklyn, staring up at a three-story brick building that looked like it had been abandoned for at least a decade. The windows were boarded up. The front door was padlocked. The sign above the entrance was so faded I could barely make out the letters.But I could see it.I could see what it could be. Not what it was."What do you think?" Marcus asked, standing beside me with an umbrella that was doing absolutely nothing to keep either of us dry."I think you're insane," I said."That's not a no.""It's not a yes either."He laughed. "Come on.
Rented Husband New Firm
Sylvia's POVThe weeks that followed the verdict felt like the slow exhale after a decade of holding my breath.William was gone. The trials were over. The headlines were starting to fade, replaced by whatever new scandal the world had decided to fixate on that week. The reporters who had camped outside the hotel had packed up their cameras and moved on. The death threats had stopped. The silent phone calls in the middle of the night had ceased.Life was returning to normal. Or at least, a version of normal I was still learning how to live in.Adrian and I moved out of the hotel and into a small apartment in the West Village. It wasn't much—a one-bedroom on the fourth floor of a walk-up, with a tiny kitchen and a fire escape that overlooked a courtyard filled with stray cats. But it was ours. We paid for it with the money Adrian had saved and the money I had earned from a few small design projects. It wasn't the Whitmore estate. It wasn't the hotel suite. But it was real.I spent my m
Rented Husband Marcus
Sylvia's POVThe hotel lobby was quiet.My mother pulled back first, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked embarrassed, the way she always did when she showed too much emotion. She had spent her whole life keeping her face composed, keeping her feelings locked away behind a polite smile. It was strange to see her break."I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to—""It's fine.""I promised myself I wouldn't cry.""It's fine, Mom."She nodded. She gestured toward the small table by the window. "Do you want to sit?"I looked at her for a moment. Then I nodded.We sat down across from each other. The tea in front of her had gone cold hours ago, the surface filming over. A waiter appeared, and I ordered a coffee I didn't really want, just to have something to do with my hands. Something to hold onto while I tried to figure out how to be in the same room as her.For a long time, neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy, filled with years of things neither of us had never sai
Rented Husband Mother’s Love
Sylvia's POVThe day after the verdict, I woke up in a hotel room that felt like it belonged to someone else.It was the same room we had been living in for weeks—the same bed, the same curtains, the same view of the city. But everything felt different. The air was lighter. The silence was softer. Even the sunlight coming through the window seemed brighter, cleaner, like it had been waiting for permission to shine.Adrian was still asleep beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his face relaxed in a way I hadn't seen in months. He looked younger when he slept. Less burdened. Like the man he might have been if he hadn't spent his whole life fighting.I lay there for a long time, watching him breathe.We had won.William was in prison. The evidence had been presented. The jury had spoken. The man who had destroyed my family, who had destroyed Adrian's family, who had spent decades hurting people and getting away with it—he was finally going to pay.I should have felt triumphant. I shou
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