All Chapters of Craving The Enemy's Husband: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Chapter 122 **Bella’s POV** I poured myself another glass of red wine, the deep liquid sloshing unevenly as I tipped the bottle with a shaky hand. My laughter bubbled up at the sound of it, low and indulgent, like music only I could hear. The rim of the glass kissed my lips, and I let the first sip linger, rolling across my tongue like velvet. The bandages wrapping my forehead itched faintly, tugging at my skin, but I didn’t mind. They were my trophies. Proof of my devotion to a performance so convincing, so meticulous, that no one, no fucking judge, no jury, no curious neighbour would ever dare doubt it. The grieving wife. The battered woman. The fragile beauty who had endured Bryan Adams’ cruelty. Yes, I wore it all like an award, like a crown fashioned from pity and whispers. I leaned back against the couch, silk robe slipping from one shoulder, the fabric sliding open at the thigh in deliberate carelessness. A smirk tugged at my lips as I exhaled, slow and contented, savourin

Chapter 124 : Bitch Matilda* Tony’s POV*No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t erase her from my mind. Even after knowing she can’t stay away from Bryan, after watching her nearly die, after the madness I had sunk into because of her, still, she consumed me.I leaned back on the leather chair, staring at the ceiling, my apartment was suffocating-ly quiet.I jittered when I heard the door bell ring. It was very abnormal, else Christiana had stopped by but it clearly wasn’t her.Setting my glass down with a clink, I dragged myself to the door. My head still spun faintly from the alcohol, but the cold clarity of suspicion cut through.I swung the door open.Standing there, dressed in a slim-fitting red blouse and black skirt, her hair perfectly curled like she was walking into a boardroom instead of a man’s apartment in the dead of night, was Matilda. “What the hell are you doing here?”Her lips curled into a smirk, the kind I had always found irritatingly smug back when we’d been… en

Chapter 126 Damn! I am going nuts, “I had to do what I had to do, okay?” I yelled again, hopefully she hears me and leaves me alone. I couldn’t stand the torture in her voice asking me for her baby. “The baby is fucking gone, Christiana! Its gone! Now just be with me okay?” I listened, waiting for her response. There was no response.“Do you want me to ask Matilda to give you her baby?” Right, I thought as much. I used to be the shadow in her storm, the anchor she leaned on when her world shattered. I told myself friendship was enough, that patience would be rewarded. That if I stayed long enough, quiet, and loyal, one day she would turn, she would see me, she would finally choose me. Not even at her lowest, when fury drove her, when schemes consumed her, when she vowed to burn the world just to get back at Bella. I helped her, I supported her. Still, her gaze slid right past me and always back to him. Fucking Bryan Adams! “Christiana, do you hear me?’ I paused waiting for her r

Chapter 128*Christiana’s POV* The rumors spread faster than fire, faster than truth could catch up. I had released to the press about her seven-year-old boy she had hidden from the public while playing the role of Bryan’s wife. They painted her as deceitful, manipulative, a woman who had used marriage as a ladder to climb into the circles of power. Gold digger, they spat. But for me, Bella wasn’t a headline. She was absence. She was the phantom at the edge of every room, the shadow between Bryan and me, the echo in my chest when the night fell silent. Her disappearance had left more than a mystery. It had left a wound that kept bleeding, even as the world fed on the spectacle. And I couldn’t tell if I hated her more for leaving… or if I hated myself more for still missing her. I stirred the pot slowly, the steam rising against my face. Maria hummed softly behind me, but even her presence couldn’t chase the chill from my spine. Because in the quiet, I felt it again, that ghost o

Chapter 130*Christiana’s POV* My heart lurched, almost disappointed in its wild hope when he brought out an old, fragile around the edges photograph. “I should have told you this long ago since I found out,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing the corner of the picture. “But maybe… maybe fate wanted me to wait until now.” He placed the photo in my hands. It was worn, the edges curled from years of being handled. My fingers trembled as I brought it closer. It was the photo of me and my first love, Bee. I had exactly this same photo that went missing years ago. He brought out another one of the same photo. “I guess this is your copy” I took it, tears dripped from my eyes. I looked up at Bryan. “Who… who is this?” I pointed at the boy standing beside the eleven years old me. His gaze never wavered. “That’s me in Chicago. I was fifteen years old.” My blood turned to ice. My lips trembled as I whispered, “You… You’re the Bee?” “Yes.” His voice was steady, but his hand covered mi