Damian Priest Wife Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Do you, Damian Knight, take Isabella to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?” Damian’s gaze did not waver. His voice was low, resolute, carrying the weight of a man who never spoke without meaning. “I do.” The words reverberated like an oath carved into stone. Isabella’s breath caught, her chest swelling. The priest turned to her. “And do you, Isabella Martinez, take Damian to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“And when you leave, tell my mother her little scheme failed. Though I’m sure she’s already watching through whatever spy she planted in my security team.” Victoria’s heels clicked across the floor as she approached, each step echoing in the tense silence. The key landed in his palm with a metallic clink that seemed to reverberate through his bones. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t know she’d be here. Serena said you needed me, that you were struggling after what happened with the Martinez merger. She said—” “Really?” he smirked. “You don’t know.” “Yes,” she whispered. Damian grabbed her face, his grip tightening as she whimpered. “Quit lying, bitch. You know she’s my wife, and that she lives

Petra finally looked me over, and I could instantly tell that she disapproved of me. "I was saying that Lora was my ex-girlfriend. There is nothing between us now. In fact, I've been dying to introduce you to my wife, Amelia." Beaming at me, Damian took my hand lying on the table and pressed it to his lips. I smiled back at him. Petra's eyes widened slightly. "Your wife?" she cried incredulously. Damian ignored her tone. "Yes." "I've heard so much about you, Petra," I said. "It's nice to meet you finally. Shame you couldn't make it to our wedding."

Tito said before sighing. Tita smiled at me. “Jewel is his wife who passed away when Damian was just ten.” She informed when she noticed the confusion on my face. “Didn’t Damian told you about his Mom?” I shake my head with an inhibition but she smiled anyway. “Damian really has still don’t want to talk about it. That kid gone through a lot and I was so sorry for being one of the people whom he loathe until now.” She sadly muttered. “Mom…” Aubrey called her so I look at the both of them and saw them smiling sadly.

Elena followed, blinking under the storm of light. Reporters shouted questions—about the partnership, about his marriage, about Elena herself. “Mr. Cross! Is it true your wife was a charity case?” “Mrs. Cross, do you think your husband’s ex-fiancée is trying to win him back?” Damian’s hand found hers briefly—not gently, not romantically, but firmly, a silent stay close. Inside, Vivienne Roth waited in the lobby. She was stunning, poised, every inch the woman who once shared Damian’s world. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Severin said, savoring each word, “was never talked about until now.” Damian recovered quickly, his expression hardening. “This have nothing to do with my marriage and it is lawful.” “Is it stable?” Severin asked mildly. A murmur rippled through the board. Damian’s fingers curled slightly against the table. “My personal life does not impair my performance.” Severin tilted his head. “That is not the language your father used.” Graham cleared his throat. “There have been…news about how your wife has vacated the marital residence, and the press is already speculating.”

All I could focus on was Damian’s icy presence beside me. When it came time for the rings, his grip was firm, almost punishing as he slid the band onto my finger. “Do you, Damian Cross, take Naomi Hayes to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest intoned. Damian’s gaze never wavered from mine. The weight of his disdain was suffocating. “I do,” he said through gritted teeth. The words felt like a death sentence. “And do you, Naomi Hayes, take Damian Cross—” “I do,” I blurted, desperate to get it over with.

Hazel’s POV “Damian, do you take Hazel to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honor her all the days of your life?” The priest asked. The hall fell silent as Damian took my hands and stared into my eyes, “I do.” He responded and that answer loosened some kind of knot in my stomach. “Hazel, do you take Damian to be your husband? Do you promise to be faithful to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and to honor him all the days of your life?”

“Thank you for taking care of Noah all this time.” Damian’s smile was genuine as he replied that what he had done was nothing compared to what they had given him. Then Noah’s mother’s gaze shifted to Livia, the young woman standing a little awkwardly at Damian’s side, though smiling politely. “Aunt, this is my wife,” Damian said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Livia’s ear. “Isn’t she beautiful?” His voice brimmed with pride, as if there were no woman in the world as lovely as her. “I love her.”

After all, we never had much common ground to begin with. Finally, Damian spoke first. "I saw you and your fiancé. You two are well-matched."