Claimed By My Husband's Enemy Novels & Stories

I could even hear the rhythmic beat of his heart from his chest. A fact struck me suddenly. This man hated Moore. He was my husband's enemy. And so am I! The enemy of my enemy is my friend! Within seconds, a new plan popped into my head. Maybe I can join hands with this man because we all have a common goal. But can this man be trusted? I think I must be crazy. This man is more dangerous than any man I've ever met. Perhaps he was a more ruthless man than Ron. He didn't even keep his word. Do I really have to do this?

I stand beside him, silent, the dutiful wife. "Adrian." A man in a gray suit claps his shoulder. "I hear your wife is playing tonight. How delightful." Adrian's smile is tight. "My wife will play a little piece. Nothing special." In my past life, they would have sunk into my chest, heavy with shame. Now, I smile sweetly and innocently. "Nothing special," I echo. Adrian glances at me. Something flickers in his eyes. A question, maybe or the first stirring of unease.

The thought of leaving this hell-calling home supposed to make me happy and unleeched from the chain instead, I felt worse. I was getting married to someone I hadn't met before and the fact that they were enemies with my family, made me even more bitter. Aware of the bad blood they have with my family would make them treat me like a slave or even worse and the thought of it made me shiver. Lost in my dilemma, my elder sister spoke, "But Mom, doesn't this mean that we will be inlaws with our enemy?" Veronica asked my mother and then, a knowing evil smirk that I was used to seeing crept her lips as she sipped the glass of wine she had been holding since the beginning of this marriage discussio

she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He held her gaze, refusing to look away. Refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing him flinch. “Curiosity,” he lied. “Understanding the enemy is the first step to defeating them.” A flicker of something, pain, anger, perhaps even a sliver of bitter amusement—crossed her face. “He was a dreamer,” she said, the words clipped. “He believed in building things that mattered. In people. In possibilities.” She took a shallow breath. “He wasn’t a fraud, Mr. Voss. He was a man who trusted the wrong person. And it cost him everything.”

I froze at the sight in front of me. My husband was in his office chair, a blonde straddled him, both with no shirts on. In that moment, my heart felt like someone put a knife into it, pushed it deep and twisted it. My world shattered, and a deep whimper escaped from my lips. “H-H-Henry.” I sobbed. Whoever the woman was jumped, not expecting his wife to walk in. Does she know he is a married man? The stranger turned her head. She wasn’t a stranger after all. The woman straddling my husband is none other than my best friend of twenty years!

“I’m a married woman, Rafael! I don’t belong here. You shouldn’t be doing this. My husband... he’s trying to make things right. He owes you, but he’s working on paying you back! Don’t... don’t use me like this. Don’t make me your... your pawn. That’s barbaric!” Rafael stepped closer, the intensity of his presence suffocating me. His words cut through the air like a slap. “Oh, I see,” he said, his voice oozing with disdain. “So you think your husband is some kind of knight in shining armor, huh? The reality is, your husband is living his best life while you’re here, getting all worried about him. He doesn’t want you. He never did. He married you for one reason—to use you as bait to make money

I threatened him and he laughed "Stefano hates you my sweetheart and lets me tell you he declares that whore Claire as his mate," he said to me in a mocking way and it felt like the floor has slipped from the surface "This can't be true, you must have done something otherwise Stefano can't do this to me," I said to him with tears in my eyes "don't cry he doesn't deserve you and you are my daughter and you are not going back to some enemy place. I have searched for you for years but I have you and I am not letting you go" he said to me and I look at him with hatred

he snapped his fingers to wake me up from daydreaming, he laughed at me and gave another orange, "What's that deep thought you're thinking about, huh?" "Why are you doing this?" I suddenly asked. His smile faded for a second, he looked away and pouted his lips. "What do you mean?" I sighed, "It feels odd that my husband's enemy is helping me. You should be make my life miserable now since your enemy isn't around you." He looked at my eyes, I suddenly felt guilty from what I just said because of his eyes, "He's my opponent in business world, but we used to be friends before. He helped me a lot, so helping you is the only way I think to pay him back."

All eyes turned to me the beautiful bride. I kept my chin level. My steps were measured, graceful years of my mother’s quiet lessons about dignity in the face of humiliation serving me now in ways she never intended. Walk like you chose this. Walk like you aren’t terrified. Walk like the Okoye name still means something in this room. It didn’t. That was the whole point. The Bellingtons had made sure of that. Forced into a marriage with my enemy’s son, I had told myself that hate would protect me. That I could walk through those doors, say the words, sign my name, and feel nothing. That the cold wall I’d built around myself would hold. 

I turned to her immediately. “I’m going to find her.” The words came out without hesitation. Without any doubt. I meant every single one. Harper studied my face, looking for uncertainty. She didn’t find any. “You can’t know that.” “I do.” “How?” I stepped closer to her. “Because nobody touches my wife.” The words slipped out naturally. Like they belonged there. Like they were the truth. Harper’s breath caught. So did mine. Neither of us spoke for a second. The room suddenly felt too small and too quiet.