Belonging to my Fiancé’s Dad
CHLOE
My lips parted to defend myself when my husband stepped forward, his back to me, “No.” He blurted, sharp and direct. I couldn’t see his face but I felt the weight of those words as they slipped out of his mouth.
Greta’s brows arched, her eyes shone at her son, “Excuse me?” Her voice was low, filled with confusion and disbelief. “What did you just say?”
“Mum, Chloe is my wife, murderer or not, I married her, she is my mate, you need to accept that…I am not divorcing my wife.” He grunted, his hands reached for mine, holding me, protecting me from his mother.
Bab Populer