Flower Husbands の小説・ストーリー

“Genesis. Your eyes, they just glowed right now,” Killian spoke, his hands cupping my cheeks, his hands felt gentle almost as if he was holding a flower, I wouldn’t mind being a flower. Flowers are beautiful. My mind wandered off again, and I heard the voice in my mind let out a small snicker. “What about my eyes?” “They changed…” He let go of my face, and I felt like I had been deprived of the sweetest feeling. I wanted it back. But I had to soldier on. “Don’t yours when you communicate with your wolf,” I asked tucking the small strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes following my movements intently, tensioned filled the air. ******************************************************************************************************************************************** Genesis was a loner living as a slave in a pack that killed her family; some people didn't even know she existed. She believed that her future was bleak and is doomed to forever be a slave for a pack she hates with all of her might. what happens when she meets meets her fated mate who turns out to the the Alpha King Kilian a thousand year old Lycan who has a fierce and cruel reputation and who has publicly announced to the supernatural world countless of times that he did not wish for a mate. Will he reject her? And what will happen when Genesis finds out just how powerful she really is, and who her parents really were.

Mikey Wilson once had a fiancée and a lovely son. But an accident happened, Mikey's wife suddenly disappeared. Later when he met her again, she forgot him, even their son. Elena Hill's family had an accident, her parents were assassinated, her younger brother was injured and has not regained consciousness. The Hill family's entire property was robbed by a relative. At this moment, a man named Mikey appeared, offering a contract to tempt Elena to do something wrong. How was Elena step by step deceived by Mikey and lured into the billionaire's love trap? Why did she forget about Mikey, why was her family murdered? Let's help Elena answer! *** Mikey was motionless, his sharp eyes looking at the girl standing with her hands on her waist, red in the face, he said: - I will give you a sum of money, moreover, I will help you find out who killed your parents and make them pay. I will also take back your parents' property and company for you. Condition, just you to be my lover for a year. Well, it's not bad, is it? Elena picked up the backrest pillow of the sofa and frantically hit Mikey, hitting and scolding: - Go away, you lured me to go cuckold into your wife's head? I hate the kind of people who steal other people's husbands the most. And now you want me to do it! My life has been so pathetic so please forgive me. I don't want any more bad luck. Do you understand? Mikey snatched the pillow from Elena's hand, then he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap: - I need you to cure my illness, please help me for a year.

On my twentieth birthday, I had to choose a husband before all of Olympus. Everyone thought I would choose Apollo Olympion, the radiant heir of the sun god and the man I had loved for years. In my last life, I did. Because of me, he gained Zeus’s favor, sacred estates, and the right to rise above every divine heir. But after our marriage, he gave his sunlight to Celeste, the dying flower nymph my mother had taken in. When Demeter drove her away, Apollo blamed me. From then on, he hated me. He humiliated me, broke me, and finally let my sacred medicine become slow poison. I died carrying his child, on the night the spring inside me withered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my twentieth birthday. This time, I let them have each other. So before Zeus and every god in the Golden Hall, I chose Cassian Hadeion, the last blood of Hades. The cursed underworld prince everyone mocked. Apollo sneered. “Choosing him just to make me jealous?” I ignored him. Because in my last life, after I died, Cassian was the only one who avenged me. Then Apollo stepped closer and whispered, “Funny. That wasn’t who you chose last time.”

Liesa Valtieri was just a psychology assistant—nothing glamorous. When her supervising therapist passed on a case, Liesa took it up. That decision dragged her into a long-term, hands-on job: fixing the emotional blind spots of business tycoon Angus Romano’s fractured personalities, one world at a time. --- **World One: The CEO and His Personal Doctor** Angus reclined dramatically on the hospital bed, eyes dark. "You only lost love," he rasped, "but I lost a leg." Liesa glanced at his chart, then his uninjured limbs. "...Angus, it's just mild discomfort in your right leg." He stared at her. "If you don't love me, this leg can go." She rubbed her temples. "I love you. Happy now?" He smiled, instantly healed. --- **World Two: Prison Kingpin and Rookie Guard** "Do you like me?" he asked, casually. Liesa didn't hesitate. "No." He nodded. "Alright. Then I'll escape tonight." "...Wait..." --- **World Three: Noble Lady and Her Devoted Attendant** Liesa handed him a book. "I want you to study more," she said. "Grow up educated. Contribute to society." The attendant hugged her waist. "No," he said calmly. "I just want to stay with you and sleep." "..." --- **World Four: Heiress Wife and Her Husbands… Plural?** Angmar Romano crossed his arms. "I'm Liesa's husband," he said. "The wedding was ruined by a certain jerk." Across the room, Durgus smirked. "Sorry. First come, first served." Liesa stared at them both. "...OMG," she muttered, "two Mr. Romonos? And they're twins?" --- **World Five: City Lord's Wife and Her Scheming Husband** Angus sighed, voice full of regret. "I've only wanted one thing," he said. "To be a kind, harmless man." Liesa, speechless, replied, "Could you put down the knife on my neck first?"

I slept with my husbands Beta. It was a mistake, or not? But I'm addicted. How can't I be? I am Diane Demora, Luna of the Delta Pack, but my marriage is a lie. For two years, Julian has played the perfect husband—gentle, patient, understanding. Yet every night, he leaves my bed empty. He lets me believe I'm infertile and there's no need for sex. After one final rejection, I run. I end up in a dark bar, desperate to forget. That's where I meet him—an older stranger whose touch awakens parts of me I thought had died. He claims me with a hunger I have never known, and for one reckless night, I let myself belong to him. Then everything falls apart. Hidden among pack records, I discover a medical audit. Three months after our wedding, Julian had a vasectomy. The truth shatters me. He never wanted a family. Never wanted an heir. Never wanted me. All he ever wanted was my father's throne. On my way to confront him, I uncover something worse. Hidden in the library shadows, I find my husband on his knees before a man whose face I cannot see. You think that's the worst of it. You're wrong. The nightmare peaks when Julian introduces the pack's new Beta and my personal guard: Dom Vormos. The same man from the bar. The same man who unraveled me with a single touch. The same man I can't forget. Now I'm trapped between a husband who wants me dead and a Beta who wants me far too much. But I refuse to be a victim. Julian will pay for every betrayal. And as for Dom? If claiming him is what it takes to become the worst wife this pack has ever seen, then so be it.

When my wedding gets delayed for the 99th time, I call the company in charge of planning the wedding and tell them to swap my name out for Julian Foster's childhood sweetheart, Madison Hart. "We understand what you mean, Ms. Sinclair. But are you sure you want to make the change? It seems that Mr. Foster has no intention of delaying the wedding this time." As I listen to the shocked host's words, I stare at the draft on the monitor. Groom: Julian Foster Bride: Olivia Sinclair But the design's special note shows, "Adjust the theme according to champagne yellow, Madison's favorite color." Madison is Julian's childhood sweetheart. Even though he claims that she's only lending a hand in referencing the wedding's designs, the truth is, she's the one calling the shots in the wedding's flower arrangement, wedding gifts, as well as the wedding anthem during the bride's entrance. She even leaves an airy comment about my wedding dress. "A fishtail gown suits her more." After dragging the document into the recycle bin, I reply calmly, "Yes. Please change the bride's name to Madison." I shall return the wedding that's filled with Madison's traces to her and Julian without altering a single thing. After that, I will retreat from this bunch of nonsense unscathed. Finally, we shall part ways permanently. Julian can stay with the woman he truly wants to be with, while I can enjoy the unbridled freedom on my own.

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

On the very day I returned home, my would-be mother-in-law slapped a check across my face. “Five million dollars. Walk away from my son. I’ve dealt with gold diggers before, who think a pregnancy can lock a man down. You’re not nearly as smart as you believe.” Before I could say a word, a girl in a white dress shrank behind her, clutching her sleeve with trembling fingers, her eyes brimming with tears. “Mrs. Sterling, please… don’t do this. What if Adrian finds out? And… if he truly cares about her, I’m willing to step aside.” I let out a soft laugh. So that was the story she had written for me. A calculating woman trying to steal her man. I bent down, picked up the check, and tucked it neatly into the deep neckline of Lily Bennett’s dress. “Here. A tip. Your performance wasn’t bad.” Then I pulled out my black card and flicked it onto the table. “Ma’am, I’ll offer you ten million. Keep your son on a leash, and tell him to stop bothering me. I find him revolting.” I paused, then added lightly, “Oh, and one more thing.” I gestured toward the delicate little flower she was guarding so carefully. “The girl you’re protecting? My father brought her home last year. His illegitimate daughter. “If anyone thinks they’re joining my family, they should probably ask the Bennetts for permission first.”

Back when we were still in love, I heard from someone else that Charlie Grant had been getting unusually close to his secretary. He never offered an explanation. He let me dig for the truth on my own. Over the past five years, I quietly collected countless photos of them together—having lunch, leaving late-night meetings, even traveling for business—but none of them offered conclusive proof of cheating. Until the day he proposed to me. There was a giant screen set up. It was supposed to play a romantic video Charlie had prepared just for the proposal, but the screen suddenly cut to something else. A video of Charlie at a hospital, standing beside his secretary as she underwent a pregnancy check-up. In the video, the doctor clearly referred to Charlie as her husband… and the father of her child. His secretary burst into tears on the spot and apologized to me repeatedly. She sobbed as though she were the victim. Charlie, however, stood there with a cold expression and said flatly, "She's an unwed mother. She was helpless. I was just accompanying her for the checkup. The doctor must've misunderstood." Everyone braced for a dramatic scene. However, I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I only reached up and slowly removed the delicate flower hairpiece from my head. I set the hairpiece down. Then I looked Charlie in the eyes and spoke calmly. "You're right. It is sad that she’s pregnant and all alone. "This marriage proposal was meant for her. Not me." I gave a faint smile. "May you enjoy a blissful life. And… congratulations on the baby."

I am someone with a strong desire to share every little detail with my lover. The blush of dawn outside the safe house window, a slightly-too-bitter espresso, the new flower shop on the corner. Even if Carlo's shadow just flickered through my mind for a moment, I couldn't stop myself from hitting send. His replies were always brief, but they were instant. I used to think that was just how a cold man like him showed his love. That all changed seven days before the wedding, when I found an AI auto-responder on the burner phone he never let out of his sight. It broke down every sentence I sent, categorizing them and extracting keywords to generate the most perfectly dismissive answers. When I said I missed him, it replied, "Behave." When I said I was scared, it replied, "I'll handle it." When I wanted to argue, it replied, "Be sensible." So, for half a year, the one replying to my messages was never Carlo. Meanwhile, in another chat window, the messages between him and another woman were piled high. From simple good mornings to random midnight thoughts, From secret talks about family business to whether they should take the yacht out on the weekend. I finally understood. Carlo wasn't a cold person. It wasn't that he didn't like to share his life; he just didn't want to share it with me. And I finally decided to make a heartbroken exit from this absurd charade.