Corpse Husband Real Name Novels & Stories

Echoes of lustful whimpers, and groans of ecstasious pleasure, I recognize his voice, but I was still in denial, it couldn’t be it. I pushed the door. And my heart didn’t just break— it detonated. Jace was inside. Jace—my husband. Jace—the boy who held me when my parents died. Jace—the man I worked myself to the bone for. Jace—the one I signed ten million dollars of mafia debt to save. He was buried between another woman’s naked thighs. Her legs wrapped around him. His hands gripping her waist like she was the only thing he ever wanted. His mouth on her neck—the same way he kissed me this morning.

"So he's just a scumbag. All that dramatic sobbing. What is he, an actor?" "His wife and mistress were in the same car crash, but he chose to save the mistress. If I were his wife, I'd make damn sure he never came near me again." "Wait. Isn't he that rich heir from the Chesson family? I remember now. There was that news story about how he flew straight to a disaster zone to rescue a woman. Looking back, she didn't seem like his girlfriend, more like a side piece." "I know him. He used to be a professor. His wife's not the one in those headlines. His real wife is a badass traditional medicine practitioner. Her last name's Sinclair."

"Are you sure you want to go down that rabbit hole?" "I have to." I open my laptop and type: Christopher Bell. The name of my so-called husband. Pictures appear. Articles. Some damning, some praising. Christopher Bell, CEO of Bell Energies. "He’s the CEO of Bell Energies?" I exclaim. Michael looks over. "Who?" "Christopher. My... husband." The word tastes bitter. And then—I see him. Tiny. About four years old. Brown hair. Chubby cheeks. "Edward," I whisper.

He said I could not bear to live with a widow under the same roof, and I had even used divorce to threaten his future. In response, I laid out all the facts and details that happened during that period of time. I also sent the video of Larrie drinking at the airport to the popular influencers. As a result, his case went viral again. After eight years of marriage, I knew all of Orlando’s connections. Soon, I found out who had helped him forge those fake medical reports. After organizing the evidence, I called the police again. Orlando and Catherine were both taken to jail. I thought the evil villains had finally received their deserved punishments. However, it did not take long before I recei

Three days after my daughter was born, my husband was killed by a car while running to the store for some groceries. I was so devastated I passed out. When I came to, his funeral was already over, and a stranger was standing in my living room. "I'm your husband's twin brother. I'll be around to help take care of you and the baby." Later, I locked myself in the bathroom with his urn, sobbing uncontrollably, when I overheard his childhood buddies talking through the open window.

he asked, making my eyebrows lift. “Checked her body?” I was sure that in my memory I never once saw Cassandra’s corpse. “I never saw her body.” “That’s impossible. The doctor said her husband signed the cremation papers and took her ashes. How could you not see her?” “Her husband…?” This whole situation clearly rattled me. I went through every bit of information I had—and found something that instantly made me clench my fists tight That bastard. His friend—he seemed the most likely in this situation.

Lorey gathered the dirty dishes, put them back in the food tray and left the room to give the couple some privacy. Alpha Callum settled in the chair, facing the bed, gazing down at Clarice. "Are you ready to hear the bad news?" he asked. "I'm ready. Bring it on," Clarice replied bravely, bracing herself for the bad news. Alpha Callum cleared his throat. No need to sugarcoat his words. "While your husband married another woman in a lavish ceremony, a few men were digging your grave in the cemetery, burying an empty coffin in it. Then an epitaph bearing your name was placed on your grave after the burial was finished. In short, in Alpha Bruce's household you are declared officially dead."

"That’s already sorted. I made her film a video." At her snap, one of her men produced a phone and angled it toward me as a video played. "Hi, my name is Corrie North," Corrie’s voice wavered from the screen. "Wife of the late billionaire Emmette Nash. I ran away with my lover after my husband died. He's a murderer, and I want nothing to do with him. I renounce every share, every property my husband left me, and I want them transferred to Abigail De Ronte, the rightful owner of Nash Corps."

Husband's name, Jack Carlton. Moreau had told me some of this while I was recovering in the bunker. Told me how he had made sure to take care of her in a way over the years. The second file contained details about her husband and as I read through, a chill settled along the base of my spine. Jack Carlton, real name Joseph Russo. Position, Undercover. Status: Unactivated. I leaned away from the computer. Moreau couldn't have…he wouldn't… But looking at both documents on my screen, he would. He did.

I was drawing more attention than I intended, now that I had introduced myself. "Melissa " He said softly when I approached him. His eyes raked my body; he opened his arms wide for a hug "Antonio Rodriguez" I said coldly, memories of what happened 9 years ago shuffled through my memory. I stretched my hand for a shake because he doesn't deserve to hug me or ever try to be emotional with me. "It's good to see you're alive after cheating on your husband and running away shamelessly" Doris mocked, holding her husband possessively.