Dear Villainous Husband Novel Novels & Stories

But you threw away my love for another man, and I’m sure you’d gladly serve him in bed in the name of love. Jason, you bastard! I won’t let you get away with this. I have to teach you a lesson for seducing my wife, even though you’re married to Hannah. You don’t deserve to be called a gentleman. You’re just a coward who doesn’t know shame, sharing your love between two women without feeling guilty and pretending to be good in front of everyone.

He confessed. “You don’t mean that. We’re good for each other.” I try to convince him once more. “We were never good for each other. Look at what you’ve done to my wife. You killed our son and you’ve ended her career by disfiguring her hand. How could I ever love someone so vile?” He says in disgust as if I was some stray he’d walked past on the street.

"I hate people like you, born with everything handed to them. Let's see if you can feel pain—if you'll scream like an animal!" Her round, doll-like face twisted into a mask of rage, eyes glinting darkly. The throbbing pain at the back of my head made my vision blur, and I was on the verge of blacking out. Yet, clinging to the last shreds of consciousness, I managed to stammer, "W-Who are you? Why do you say my husband wants me dead?" She scoffed as if she had heard something hilariously absurd. "Husband? You stole my Harry, and now you have the nerve to call him that? Don't think that being married makes you anything but the other woman! My name is Giselle Tanner, and I was with him first,"

As for the horny part. Yeah. Absolutely fucking not. That would be a disaster of catastrophic proportions. Besides, after everything that had happened between us—after getting pregnant with his child under circumstances neither of us could forget—I doubted I was exactly the woman of his fantasies. If anything, I was probably the biggest complication he had ever dragged into his life. The one thing he wished he could undo. "Like I said," Valeria continued with a shrug, "Your husband could be different. Men in our world love fucking mind games, control, emotional torture... all that toxic bullshit that slowly drives women insane."

“Why would a husband marry another woman while he’s still married to his wife?” A wave of shocked gasps spread through the hall. “What did she say?” “Did she say husband?” “Oh my God…” I could barely see the crowd anymore. My eyes burned, but I didn’t care. I pointed directly at him, my hand shaking. “He!” I screamed. My voice cracked with rage. “He’s still married to me!” The words slammed into the room like a bomb. “You hear me, Daelan?!” I yelled. “We’re still married! Why on earth would you do to me?”

Casual. “You have a husband!” I hiss, taking a step forward. My voice is shaking, but the fury is stabilizing me. “You married Roman Vale six months ago. The hottest billionaire in the city. If you’re so desperate to fuck someone, why don’t you go screw your husband?” She exhales a cloud of smoke, her eyes glittering with cold malice.

“You’re probably running on caffeine and sarcasm. Eat something real. – L.” Her fingers tightened on the card as she reads the note. Your husband, Lucien Vale The husband she had barely spoken to since the wedding—who hadn’t even shown his face—had sent her flowers and lunch? She frowned, peeling open the lunchbox. Inside was perfectly packed chicken korma with basmati rice, a slice of mango, and a small container of homemade truffle mushroom soup. She knew the scent before she even opened the box—it was her mother’s recipe.

As I ran up the stairs I bumped into a hard chest. “Sorry,” I said without looking up and continued my way upstairs only to notice I was being followed. I paused and slowly turned to see Moretti behind me. “What d-“ “Want to rebel again?” He asked slowly as he came closer. His body few inches away from mine. Yes! My body screamed. Fuck yes. I want that asshole of my husband to eat shit. But I knew making another mistake like this would cost me. “No” I said firmly. “Are you sure?” He asked me quietly and I nodded.

“You’re too beautiful to die.” “And who would kill me?” “My husband.” It didn’t matter who her husband was. I wasn’t the least bit scared of some asshole with a thick wallet. I was the most notorious criminal in this city. He’d be so terrified that he would watch me fuck his wife. “I’ll take my chances.” “My husband is a very powerful man.”

“A secret affair, a younger, volatile lover. Maybe he wanted more, she wanted out. Things get heated. He snaps, strangles her, stages a drowning. Panics and leaves.” “Or,” Omondi mused, staring down the empty corridor, “the husband found out. That is a classic crime of passion. But the lack of rage in the scene… the neatness. That feels calculated. Like a message.” He turned to Auma. “First, we find Adrian Vale. He’s our best link. Then, we have the unpleasant task of informing the husband that his wife is dead, and she wasn’t alone.” Auma nodded, her expression grim. “Imagine that knock on the door. Your world ends, and then you find out it was already broken. Some things are just rotten. I