All Chapters of Dear Husband my ex is back : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

DEAR READER, THIS CHAPTER IS RATED+18. BEWARE! *One Month Later* Franklin was finally fit again. After spending a week in Chicago, he decided to return to Paris. He sat in his office, eyes fixed on the file in front of him. His mother had offered him the CEO position, but he didn’t want it, not like that. He wanted to rebuild himself, without leaning on her wealth or reputation. Thalia had taught him that. She had taught him independence, self-respect, and how to stand on his own feet. She was the reason he even had his own company today, the reason he had become a better man. And yet, he had thrown it all away in one reckless day, forgetting everything she had done for him. “What are you thinking about?” Yulia’s voice broke into his thoughts. She stood by the doorway, dressed in a pink satin evening gown that clung tightly to her curves, the neckline dipping low to reveal the swell of her breasts. The gown shimmered faintly under the light, its fabric hugging her body in all the

(Back at the Hotel) Neither of them noticed they were no longer alone. Delilah, quiet as a shadow, lifted her phone and recorded everything, the moans, the kisses, the shameless intimacy unfolding right before her eyes. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she hid herself behind a curtain. “Gael, drop me. I’m tired already,” Yulia giggled, her arms wrapped lazily around his neck as he carried her. Gael smirked, pressing a kiss to her lips before heading toward the bathroom with her, still in his arms. Delilah slipped off her heels, clutching them in her hand, and crept closer. She pressed herself against the wall near the bathroom door, her ear leaned forward to catch every word. “Don’t tell me you want me to fuck you harder,” Gael teased, his voice low and husky. “To make you fall apart so beautifully for me like you always do.” Yulia scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m only doing this because of the secret between us. Don’t be fooled, Gael. I love my husband.” Her word

{Rosy's place} Rosy sank into the couch in her living room, holding a glass of juice. Her body felt heavy, worn out after hours of signing files and sitting through endless meetings. She was wearing a tiny crop singlet and a bum shorts, and she looked too drained to care about anything at the moment. Her phone buzzed, a reminder notification, she opened it—A text from Thalia. "Hey bitch!" Rosy snorted, she replied back —"Hey." She had forgotten to reply earlier, she’d been busy in a tense online meeting with one of her biggest clients. The sudden, violent press of the doorbell tore through the silence. “Ding-ding-ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong.” “What the hell?” Rosy muttered angrily. Thalia had been right, she needed staff in the house, security men especially. Who the hell rings a bell like that at twelve in the morning? She became scared. “Oh no, it could be a thief,” she whispered to herself. She set the glass down, walked into the

Orion reached home from work, his tie loosened already, his shirt unbuttoned, his face lit up as he settled in his room. He was so excited as he reminisced how Rosy let him inside the house. Her accepting him inside her home was like giving him a second chance, it meant a lot to him. And this time he won't misplace the chance she gave him. “Wait and see, Rosy. I’ll break through those walls of yours one day.” His voice was low, but his eyes carried the stubbornness of a man who’d made up his mind. He had cleared his schedule just to see his father at the hospital today. The old man was recovering slowly, and for the first time in weeks, Orion felt relief. But for the past one month, he’d been trying to get Eliana to visit his father. But she refused every single time. She was too proud, too stubborn. Speaking of the devil and she's here, the door opened. Eliana stepped in, smiling at him. “Orion, you’re back? And you couldn’t even call me? Where did you disappear last nig

[PARIS] 9PM Franklin drove to the Deauville in Normandy, the very place he had asked them to meet. He hadn’t meant to lure her here under the disguise of a crazed fan, but he had done it anyway. As perfect as the plan seemed in his head, doubt gnawed at him now. Thalia wasn’t a fool. She wouldn’t just come running to meet some so-called 'fan'. He glanced at his wristwatch and exhaled a long, heavy sigh. The beach wasn’t chosen at random. He had proposed to her in lake Michigan in Chicago then. Ten years ago. The memory still clung to him, he could never get it out of his brain. Thalia had been wearing the bikini he’d bought for her, he halted, killing the engine then helped Thalia out of the car. “Frank, where are we going?” she’d asked, laughing nervously as he covered her eyes with a blindfold. The beach was empty, private, just the two of them. He’d decorated it with roses, petals scattered in the sand, candles flickering inside glass jars, a banner swaying in the