Romans & histoires Cold Husband

Shortly after we said "I do," the Family sent my husband, Dario, down to the Mexican border. He told me it was a meat grinder down there—cartel territory. where guys were zipped into body bags every day. He said he had to go—to expand the territory, for the glory of the Family. He claimed it was too dangerous and that his enemies would paint a target on my back, so he wouldn't take me with him. I believed him. I stayed behind in his old, rot-infested house in New Jersey, taking care of his bitter, spiteful parents. I spent my days and nights in the Family's moldy laundromat, washing bills stained with blood. He told me he sent every dime he made down there to the widow of a brother who took a bullet for him. He asked me to be understanding. I never complained. Day after day, I pressed expensive suits in that humid laundromat, waiting for him to come home. It wasn't until the eighth year that a mobster came back drunk. When I asked about Dario, he froze, then sneered at me through a haze of alcohol. "Dario? Are you kidding? He’s been a King in Manhattan for years. He’s the youngest Underboss of the Corleone family." I stood frozen, the iron in my hand burning a hole right through a shirt. "And he got married seven years ago. Biggest cathedral in New Jersey. Half the mob was there to toast the groom..." He pulled a crumpled photo from his leather jacket. Snuggled up against my husband was a woman in a high-end couture gown—the very same "poor, widowed sister-in-law" he had told me about. The next day, I contacted a fixer who specialized in fake IDs. On the application for a one-way ticket to Europe—a ticket to vanish off the face of the earth—I filled in the fake name I had prepared long ago. He trapped me for seven years with a sham marriage. From now on, I’d be done with this damn loyalty.

"What do you think, Kenzo? Do I look sexy in this" pushing the door open to his suite room, he was met with the most unexpected scene, with sprawled legs on both sides of the bed, a book in her hands, in a flowy lacy thin white gown which stuck dangerously to her body, doing absolute justice to her perfectly rounded boobs which poked out dangerously through the see-through night gown, his long distance wife was right there, on the bed. She finally looked away from the book which was seated on both palms of her hands, she tucked it aside and then raised her head up, her eyes meeting his. "Missed me, dear husband?" Three weeks and four days ago was their 7th year wedding anniversary, and she wasn't available, she was never available, not for the first, second, fifth, nor sixth. So, why was she here now? After years of living totally apart despite being married, their main focus was their company, or at least, hers. They married for love, people think they didn't, they think it is a contract marriage, they married for love, or maybe just him. He married her because he loved her and he thought she did too, but maybe he was wrong. Why was she here now? This is a short, fast-paced romance designed to keep you hooked from the first page to the last.

Tall, handsome, sweet, compassionate caring, and smart? Oh, now you're making me laugh! But it's true, that's how you would describe Nathan Taylor, the 28-year-old lawyer who took California by storm. Ladies would swoon at the sight of him but he was married to Anette, his beautiful wife of 5 years. Their lives looked perfect from the outside with Anette being the perfect wife and Nathan being the loving husband. However, things were not as simple as that. Nathan Taylor was hiding things from Anette, he carried on with his life like everything was okay when in reality Anette would be crushed if she found out what he was up to. But what if she already knew? What happens when the 28-year-old Anette takes the law into her own hands and gives Nathan a little taste of his own medicine? ~ "Anette, I didn't think you'd find out about this I'm sorry." The woman said and Anette stared at her, a smile plastered on her face. "Oh don't worry sweetheart. There's nothing to apologize for. All is fair in love and war."

"Dear ex-wife, I want you back!" ~~~~~~~ Stacy, a strong and devoted wife, discovers the painful truth that her husband Nathan has been cheating on her with her best friend Rita. The betrayal strikes deep within her heart, and unable to tolerate the breach of trust, Stacy takes the brave decision to divorce Nathan, severing all ties with him. Life after the divorce proves to be a tumultuous journey for Stacy. With shattered dreams and a wounded spirit, she finds herself grappling with the challenges of starting anew. In the face of adversity, Stacy musters the courage to reinvent herself and discovers an unexpected path in the most vibrant city of dreams, Los Angeles. Drawn to the allure of the city's nightlife, Stacy finds solace and empowerment as a stripper in one of Los Angeles' premier clubs. With a newfound sense of freedom, she embraces her sensuality and unleashes her hidden talents on the stage, captivating the audience with her mesmerizing performances. The neon lights and pulsating music become her sanctuary, where she can momentarily forget the pain that still lingers in her heart. However, fate has a twisted sense of irony in store for Stacy. One fateful night, as she prepares to grace the stage with her magnetic presence, she receives an unexpected request: to strip for a VIP client. The name sends a chill down her spine, for it is none other than her ex-husband Nathaniel Hawthorne.

When Delia finds out she’s pregnant she’s so excited but her world is shattered when she finds out her husband’s having an affair with his secretary who also claims to be pregnant. Delia demands a divorce and leaves before Thomas can change her mind.

On a public holiday, I took Henry's mom, Johanna, to a new salon at Vanderbilt Court for a makeover. Halfway through, she suddenly cried out. I rushed over—burnt smell hit me hard. I yanked the machine off her head. Too late. Her hair was fried. Blisters spread across her scalp. I called the salon manager. She barely looked at us, lips curling. "What a hassle. If you can't afford luxury, don't pretend. I won't charge you. Now get out." I pointed at her. "You burned my mother-in-law. You're paying for her treatment and taking her to the hospital. Or I report this." Her brows shot up. Hands on her hips. "Oh, so now you're faking injuries for money? You even broke our premium equipment. You owe me a hundred grand today. And just so you know—this whole mall? My husband owns it. Pay up, or I'll make you." My heart stuttered. Vanderbilt Court... Johanna had just bought it and handed it to Henry. And he really had a side chick right under our noses.

When His Majesty King Dominic Thornfield was attacked, my husband, Roland Wentworth, Commander of the Royal Guard, was busy placating his first love, Vivian Sinclair, who had stormed off in a fit of anger. I did not light the signal flare in my hand. Instead, I used my heavily pregnant body as a human shield to protect the King and help him escape. In my past life, I had lit that flare. Roland abandoned Vivian to rush back and save the King. He was rewarded for his loyal service by being made a Duke Protector. However, Vivian fell into a trap and died on the spot. On the surface, Roland said nothing. Yet, on the very day I went into labor, he threw me into the Beast Dungeon. My face twisted in agony as I demanded to know why. Roland merely glanced at me coldly and said, "His Majesty had plenty of guards around him, so why did it have to be me who came back? You must have done it on purpose, only caring about power and wealth. If you hadn't lit that flare, Vivian wouldn't have died. Whatever suffering Vivian endured, I'll make you pay it back tenfold!" In the end, I was torn apart and devoured by the beasts. Even the child in my womb was consumed completely. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the King was attacked.

For three consecutive years, Nate Jackel had a wedding dress customized each year and gifted it to the woman he loved most. When reporters asked me how I felt, I looked at the trending headlines filled with this so-called "true love" hype and sneered. “What’s there to praise about an affair between a cheating husband and his mistress?” That night, Nate rented out a rooftop restaurant and had ten thousand drones launched into the sky to celebrate Grace Lawson’s birthday. In his way, he was telling the entire world that he loved her. That was fine by me. As long as I stayed married, Grace would forever be a mistress.

My sister-in-law, Hannah Martinez, was eight months pregnant when someone shoved her to the ground. Due to the heavy bleeding, she was rushed to the hospital. I happened to drive past, but I rolled up my window and pretended I saw nothing, pressing down on the gas pedal. In my previous life, I had immediately taken Hannah to the hospital when I saw her pass out from the blood loss. However, the situation was critical. After the severe bleeding, she developed an amniotic fluid embolism. My wife, Lauren Martinez, was the best obstetrician in the city. I called her, begging her to hurry to the hospital. Yet, she thought I was throwing a tantrum out of jealousy because she was having dinner with her first love, Isaac Poole, and his family. She believed I was using Hannah's emergency to force her to come back. By the time her family finally arrived, Hannah had already died from the failed treatment of the amniotic fluid embolism. Her entire family blamed me for Hannah's death, convinced that I had deliberately caused Lauren to misunderstand and let Hannah die. My brother-in-law, Jacob Turner, who rushed back from out of town, believed their lies. In his overwhelming grief, he hacked me to death with a knife at Hannah's funeral. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Hannah was pushed and started bleeding out.

My wife, Danielle Russell, has forgotten to log her WhatsApp account out of my computer after using it. When I'm about to help her log out, I notice a notification from a group chat popping up on the screen. "We're hosting a family dinner tonight to celebrate Vince's promotion." Out of curiosity, I click on the group chat. There are only four members there—my dad, my mom, Danielle, and my cousin, Vincent Tanner. Danielle texts back, "Are we the only ones attending? What about Leon?" "It's his fault for being petty all the time. He's the type who isn't above fighting with Vince over an apple!" I'm stunned, to say the least. It turns out that my family has already viewed me as an outsider.