Istri Baru Suami Mawar Novels & Stories

he said and put his two hands on the bed, a guy in a black shirt shows up, "Boss, we confirm that Madam Marisa, get home safely," the guy said that making Harreld smile, "How about his husband?" he asked seriously, "According to a spy, inside the mansion, his husband didn't come home, since they get married," the guy said which made him irritated, "How about the spy in that bastard company?" He asks annoyed,

“Am I? Of course I am. Seriously Charles, my world crushed when he told me he was going to call off the marriage. For a minute I wanted to cry my eyes out, what has he done to me? I just can't hate him even if he keeps pushing me away.” “He's an asshole and I'll make him pay for almost breaking your heart.” He said threateningly. “Oh my goodness! Charlene, I still can't believe you're getting married tomorrow. You'll be living with a stranger now.” He pouted cutely, he blinked his eyes leisurely and played with his fingers. “A stranger?” “Of course he's a stranger that'll soon become your family. Oh! My heart is aching.” Charlene rolled her eyes cheerfully, she grabbed a pillow on the bed an

"Did you see him?" "Yes" Brother Kiki smiled. "Looks like he's into a boarding house here. You have to take care of her so that she does not belong to someone else for the sake of our friend Mount Everest, ”whispered Willy. Kiki nodded. He agreed with what Willy said. Irawan, whom they call Mount Everest, is a friend who is always indifferent to women. she has never shown any interest in the opposite sex, following the betrayal of Praptini, her college senior who is now married to a businessman in Dubai.

“I still prefer your food though.” I can't help but smile. “Liar.” I accused him. “I am not lying. I just love the food that my wife cooks for me.” “TSK.” I am forcing myself not to smile. After we had finish eating, Maru went to me and offer his hand “Wife may I dance with you?” I smirked. “Where’s the music?” Again in a snap there’s a romantic music playing. “May I?” I nodded and accept his hand.

For a moment, I let myself pretend we were just brother and sister at someone else’s wedding, sharing a dance and nothing more. His answer was clipped. “It is.” Something in his tone made my chest tighten. “You don’t look very happy that I’ll be living in the same city as you.” Marco’s jaw clenched. “Not at this price.” I swallowed. “You mean me being married to Adrian.” He gave the room a quick scan, his eyes automatically finding Adrian. My new husband was across the floor, dancing with his sister. His face was as composed and unreadable as always. Marco leaned in and lowered his voice. “He’s not the right man for you.”

He paused, frustration flickering across his face, then desperation. “I messed up,” he whispered. “But I love you. You know that, right? I’ve always loved you.” I stared into his eyes, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Did you ever truly love me at all? In our three years of marriage, tell me?” What hurt most was his silence. It spoke volumes—louder than the thunder outside. Victor’s expression crumpled as he reached out again, this time grabbing my wrist with a trembling grip. “Please, Alisa. Don’t leave me. It was a mistake. I didn’t even know she was pregnant. We just did it once, okay?”

Iris greeted him with a bright smile, leaning in to place a tender kiss on his palm. Did you see anyone getting jealous over an old man? Me. This man right here is jealous. Unashamed and proud. "Look, Mateo, Iris has a husband," Trina announced, sending my heart racing with alarm. "Mama, boyfriend," Iris corrected loudly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Trina chuckled and settled herself comfortably beside Mateo, seemingly unfazed by the slip-up. . . . I found myself perched on the bed beside Mateo, watching cricket highlights yet again.

One would think the wedding was his since he'd singlehandedly been planning every step of his master plan carefully for weeks since the mysterious demise of Darius Martel. Initially, the wedding truly was his to Darius' widow, Cayetana Martel, but out of the blue, he woke up feeling like I was of age to marry either of the Martel daughters and prove I had his blood running through my veins. In all the twenty-six years of my life, I hadn't imagined myself marrying anyone anytime soon, that too, a woman like Sofia. I was raised to be merciless, cold and heartless. Looking into those innocent milky pools of the most uncommonly striking green eyes I'd ever seen vividly reflected the delicate nat

He said. On the days that followed Tristan continued to woo his wife. While she had not yet decided to welcome him back to her heart eventhough she had acknowledge that she had still feelings for him, it didn't change it just simply submerge by the trials and difficulties they faced. She had decided not to avoid him anymore, they even went out on dates which made her heart swelled with emotions she cannot explain but kinda like it, since she had never experienced to be courted like that. Their marriage started on the wrong reason, and almost ended with lies and deception.

He asked. “I will be doing countless things that he won't like now, like getting engaged..” I was saying, but Tyson interrupted me. “There won't be any weddings.” He said, and I almost jumped on him hearing that. “Really? Are you going to help me?” I asked, but he got closer to me, and whispered to my ear. “No, I'm helping me. Zina Blackwood will only be my wife.” He said, as he brushed his lips on my cheek, and I froze.