Chris Mueller The Fan Wife Mga Nobela at Kwento

I said calmly, “Rather than adopting a furbaby, why don’t we get a divorce? Then you can have an actual baby with her.” … My husband, the award-winning actor Jonas Yves, held a grand confession ceremony for another woman. He publicly declared their relationship on the Internet, making headlines and moving hearts. As for me, his wife of eight years, I could only watch the raucous interview from the side like an outsider. The journalists on the scene were in an uproar. The fans in the front row were celebrating. The next second, Jonas put a matching ring on her finger. Under the spotlight, they looked like a perfect couple.

One after the other, they took their leave until I was the only one left in my office. Reclining against my table, I used my fingers to trace the corners of my name plaque, my smile growing even wider. Nine months ago, I was the wife of Caruso Milton. Fast forward to nine months later, I was the heiress of Nexus Corporation, one out of the three largest cologmerate in the country. Pushing my hair behind my ear, I plopped on my chair, a low sigh escaping from my lips as I turned on the TV. The headlines caught my attention, so I decided to keep watching until it came to full display once more.

"Please don't call me that. I love my wife. I thought I loved you but I don't. Maybe I did at some point, not any more. I've gotten to experience real love, with Mika. I want to fight for my wife,for our marriage. I would hate to see miss out on love because of this." She looked really angry. "Cole, I need you to listen and very closely. I will not lose you to that girl. You are mine. So get it in your head that we will never be over. So get over your little crash or you won't like me when I'm mad." She said and walked out as soon as she got up. Leaving me no room to respond. Chris stood from where he was hiding. "Bro, I heard everything and all I will say is be careful."

Now, he was standing beside Myra. A dull ache spread through my chest. My urge to divorce was stronger than ever. George glanced my way, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. I turned away. But even those few seconds were enough for viewers to screenshot my reaction and turn it into a trending meme. "LOL! Looks like Bitchel Miller didn't expect her dream man to show up with his wife. Let's see if she'll still be a delusional fan after this!" "Bitchel Miller's stunned face is priceless. I can't stop laughing."

she continued, her voice lowering instinctively, “the one I saw earlier. That is Cillian Vane. And you are married to him?” I nodded once. Her eyes widened, lips parting slightly. She leaned back against the seat as if she needed the support. “Val.” Her hand reached for mine across the table, warm and familiar. Sarah had always been like this. Manager, friend, anchor. The first person to catch me when I fall, the first to worry herself sick when I went quiet. “We are barely holding things together,” she said carefully. “I know everything is happening so fast. I get that. I really do. But marriage?” She shook her head slowly. “Your fans have not even recovered. The media has not recovered. An

Troll #2: “New sugar daddy this time? Switched the foreign sponsor for a domestic one, huh? LA-based, I assume?” Troll #3: “Mi Weini’s role is pretty important—second only to the leads. No wonder her fan club is acting all smug. If you’re gonna get a new daddy, at least make sure he’s top-tier, right?” The trolls wouldn’t let up about her so-called sugar daddies, and Miley’s loyal fans were getting seriously pissed. Then, one of those shady accounts—someone with the handle BigWhiteRabbit_NoSugar—tagged the VP of Star Making Media.

She couldn't afford that kind of attention. Vance leaned in close, his voice a low warning. "You're my wife. You'd better make sure Desmond knows his boundaries. I'm an outsider here, and I can afford to lose face if I snap. But can the Mueller heir handle the scandal of pursuing another man's wife?" "Not everyone is as shameless as you," she shot back. Yet she truly didn't want Desmond entangled in any gossip because of her, so she signaled him to hold back. She was going back anyway. It didn't matter who she went back with.

"How can you blame us for being fickle? Aren’t you men the same? We fangirls might change 'husbands' after watching a drama, but don’t you fanboys change 'wives' after, too?" Chris coldly said, "I'm not a fanboy." That was true, Paige thought. She could not imagine what it would be like if Mr. Possessive Chris were a fanboy. "Don't just look at your fans crying and shouting under your Instagram saying they want your babies. They might be crying and shouting the same thing under other men's Instagram," Paige said seriously. "I don't believe it!" Chris believed his fans had discerning eyes. They became fans of him because of his excellence. How could they still like other men?

Noticing that Ruan had also stood up and looked ready to touch her again, Chloe spoke as fast as her heart was beating: “That man’s name is Alexander Muller, and he is Megan’s husband.” She turned to look him in the face. Chloe needed to see Ruan incredulous and disillusioned. She wanted to witness the exact moment he would scream at her and kick her out of his life, as he always did. Chloe felt certain Ruan wouldn't believe her. But that didn't happen. No disbelief or denial marked his face—only a profound disappointment Chloe had never seen before.

“You know, Paula, you were never right for Orlando. You’re too… ordinary. Me? I gave him everything he ever wanted.” Before I could respond, another pair of footsteps echoed through the room—sharp, authoritative, and chilling. It was Mrs. Farah. My mother-in-law. She entered the room dressed in her usual designer clothes, her expression frosty and condescending as always. But this time, her eyes were filled with open disdain. “I don’t understand why you’re still here, Paula,” she said sharply. “Orlando has been more than patient with you. Five years and you couldn’t even give him a child. That’s your biggest failure.”