All Chapters of My Mysterious Husband: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Aria had been throwing away the letters for weeks, refusing to read a single word. She didn’t need to—she already knew they were from Lucien. The handwriting, the tone, the way each envelope felt like a whisper from the past—it was unmistakable. She wanted no part of it.That morning, as she sat in her office quietly eating breakfast, a large, unmarked box was delivered. Its presence immediately unsettled her. She hesitated, spoon frozen mid-air, eyes locked on the package. Something about it felt wrong.With a deep breath, she stood up and approached the box. “What is this?” she muttered, heart beginning to race. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid.Inside lay a mangled teddy bear—its fur soaked in dried blood, one button eye missing, stuffing torn open like a wound. Aria recoiled, a gasp tearing from her throat as the lid slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor. She stumbled back, hand over her mouth, feeling the bile rise.Pinned to the bear’s chest was a note, scr

"You what??" Aria asked, her voice sharp with disbelief as her hand instinctively tightened around Lucien’s. Her eyes were wide, searching her mother’s face for any sign that she’d misunderstood.Her mother, unfazed, smiled casually and repeated, “I said, I want to stay at your house for one week.”The room fell into an awkward silence.Lucien blinked in surprise, then a slow grin spread across his face. He glanced at Aria, clearly amused, while Aria stood frozen, her mouth slightly agape. She wasn’t sure if she should laugh, panic, or start protesting immediately.On the other side of the room, Dr. Harold—Aria’s long-time colleague and friend—choked on his drink. He turned away quickly, but the shaking of his shoulders gave him away.“What’s so funny, Dr. Harold?” Aria’s mother asked, raising a brow. Her tone was calm, but the edge in it warned that she wasn’t entirely amused.Harold cleared his throat and tried to compose himself, but the smirk refused to leave his face. “Oh, nothin

Aria stood at the doorway of their bedroom, her gaze falling on the familiar bed. It looked the same as it had before everything had changed, but somehow, it felt different. The scent of fresh linen lingered in the air, comforting yet distant, as if it had been waiting for them to return, untouched by the months of silence. She ran her fingers along the soft fabric of the duvet, feeling the weight of the memories it carried. She could tell that no one had slept there in her absence—at least, not in the way they had once shared it.Her heart squeezed in her chest, a pang of longing and loss she hadn’t expected. The bed still held echoes of them—of late-night talks, of laughter, of quiet moments, now tainted by the tragedy they’d both endured.She didn’t realize she had been standing there, lost in thought, until she heard the rustling of clothes behind her. When she turned, Lucien was already pulling off his shirt. His movements were slow and deliberate, but it wasn’t just the action t

Cassandra was just beginning her journey in the world of fashion design. After spending time away, she had recently returned to her home country to fully pursue her aspirations as a clothing designer. Armed with a portfolio full of unique and inspired creations, she had been diligently working on a new collection for several months—her first major project since coming back. Today marked a significant milestone: the day her designs would finally be unveiled to the public.As the excitement—and pressure—of the moment settled in, Cassandra turned to her assistant, her brow slightly furrowed with concern."Where are the models our company hired for the show?" she asked sharply, a sense of urgency in her voice."They're ready, Miss Cassandra," Alie replied calmly. "They're in the fitting room, just waiting for your signal."Alie was relatively new to the W Company, just like Cassandra. Both had been hired around the same time, and despite being early in their careers, they had quickly form

Cassandra lowered her eyes for a moment, her fingers tightening around the bouquet he had given her. The scent of fresh flowers mixed with the weight of old memories, and for the first time in years, she allowed herself to stand still in his presence—without running, without pushing him away.“I don’t know what happens next,” she said quietly. “I’m not promising anything, Fabian.”“I’m not asking for promises,” he replied gently. “Just a chance to be near you again. Even if it’s just as someone who supports you from afar.”She looked up at him, eyes softer now, though still guarded. “Then let’s start with this moment. No expectations, no headlines… just two people trying to understand what’s left between them.”A faint smile tugged at his lips. “That’s more than enough for me.”They stood there in silence, surrounded by the fading energy of the fashion show, the noise and lights now distant. In the quiet that followed, something unspoken passed between them—wounded, tentative, but und