Greyston Holt Spouse Novels & Stories

He did not want anything to taint his grandson's future. Bronton had tried to repair the relationship he had with Gracie but never succeeded. They were neither friends nor enemies and he preferred it that way. Gracie had gotten married again after Eliam had divorced her. She had given birth to two more kids beside Bronton. They barely talked, only sent occasional holiday greetings and happy birthdays.

That was how the Westons wrapped themselves around my life, how their family became entangled with mine. I hated that I still found him intimidating. Even now, even after marrying into this viper’s nest, he could silence me with a single glance. At his right, Estelle leaned back in her chair, perfectly coiffed hair gleaming under the light, lips curved into a cruel smirk. She's Jon’s second wife, by the way. And she's nothing like the first—the sickly, fragile woman who had at least been kind. Her name was Agatha and she passed away.

"There's no need. From now on, his life or death has nothing to do with me. Cordelia, you've worked hard these past few weeks, but I'll be getting married soon." Cordelia immediately understood the unspoken meaning: from this moment on, matters concerning the Holt family no longer required my attention. After hanging up, I finally noticed the headline blazing across the trending list online. [The Holt family's eldest son rises from the dead—cancels wedding on the spot after learning his ex-wife miscarried.] The accompanying video showed Charlotte, her makeup streaked into a mess of tears, kneeling on the floor in desperation, begging Gavin to finish the ceremony. But he shoved her aside with

She replied coldly, “It’s Layla. She’s getting married to Jonathan Gray today.” The news caught William by surprise. “What?” he asked in disbelief.

"Oh my goodness! You've gotten married! Oh, my baby is so grown up! Please, come in Mr..." "Greystone, Alexander Greystone," Alexander said, stepping closer and lifting his hand to shake the hands of my parents. He wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry that we dropped in unannounced. I was sad that you missed our wedding and I wanted to meet the couple that blessed me with this amazing woman." My mother swooned over Alexander and invited us in. We followed them to the dining room. I looked around, the modern interior of the house was completely different from when I last saw it. The house had been completely renovated.

he replied in a curt tone. Cristine turned her gaze to Helen, scanning her carefully, and couldn't resist giving her a sharp look. "Helen Reynolds. Elise Peterson’s protégé." Cristine glanced back at Matt. "I heard you married this woman and that you two have children. You really kept that one hidden, huh, sweetheart?" Cristine nudged her nephew with a faint, smug smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yes, just as you heard, Auntie. I have a wife and two beautiful children—well, we’re just dating, my beloved and I," he added with irony.

Helen held Stefan’s hand and remarked with meaning, "The child has grown up. Who do you think took care of him all this years? It's not a problem if you want him to come back to your family…. But I want to be Mrs. Gray," "Not possible!" Conan was the first to say no, "I won't marry you even if all the women in the world die." Helen had known for a long time that he wouldn't consent that readily. She pulled Stefan and was about to leave. "Then we have nothing to talk about." "Stop!" Mrs. Poppy Gray couldn't bring herself to reply when she saw the child limp away, "You can get whatever you want, Money? Or stocks? We can talk about it.”

All evening, Stewart had his eye on a tray of pastries in the corner. They were ready to go get some when they were interrupted to talk about a project. York had just greeted Vesta across the room and was now gesturing to Granger and Moran, saying, "Mr. Harden, Mr. Albright." Granger nodded back. Thorne ended his call just then and came over to join them. Moran coughed a little and scratched his nose, remembering the dance York and Charlene had performed earlier. Given that Charlene was Thorne's wife, it had been a long time. The idea flared in Granger's eyes. But Thorne didn't appear to mind. When Thorne saw York, he even called him "Mr. Watson." York responded, "Mr. Henderson."

We returned to the hall, and after one final hug, my aunt took her place, and I took mine, my face lifting into a hollow smile as I returned to pretending to be someone my husband had shown me I would never be. ***** ALEXANDER Stepping outside, I spotted Greyson in the building's shadowy corner, a cigarette burning between his fingers as he paced back and forth like a wolf trapped in too small a space. He paused after a few turns, leaned his forehead against the stone wall, and slowly exhaled. And the sight took me aback. He was mostly hidden in the dark, but my wolf eyes saw everything—the tight set of his shoulders, the way his free hand curled into a fist, and even the faint tremor in his

“Mr. Grayston, I don’t think you need to be worried about Chris anymore. He found his niche. Trust me, the woman you’re bringing would be incapable of handling Chris, but his wife doesn’t take bullshit..” “Has he married?” “Yes, Mr. Grayston. I also didn't know he was married. I discovered this just last week when I went to his residence late at night. He was booted. He went home with a hooker, his wife chased the hooker and booted his nuts.” The elderly gentleman could not contain his laughter. “Who is his wife?”