Jennifer Morrison Husband Novels & Stories

"What about your ribs? The pain seems severe." "I hit the kitchen counter when I fell." Her voice is mechanical, like she's reciting a script. I glance at Alex Morrison. He's a handsome man in his thirties, well-dressed and articulate. The kind of man who would never hurt his disabled wife. Except I don't believe him. "Mr. Morrison, could I speak with your wife privately for a moment?" "I'd prefer to stay," he says smoothly. "Lily gets confused sometimes. The head injury, you know. I can help clarify anything she might get wrong."

Before handing her the phone, I asked, "Who's your husband?" She wiped away her tears, her lips trembling as she said, "Jaxon Moretti..." I put my phone back in my pocket and sighed in frustration. Why, of all people, would Jaxon Moretti be her husband? The man who killed my father and tormented my brother! My jaw clenched, and she seemed a bit dismayed by my reaction. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

Max, before his greed led him to do dirty deals. "So, back to why I am here. We got a phone call that your husband was kidnapped, and we made inquiries from your children, receiving the reports that your husband borrowed money from Damian Tucker and hasn't paid it yet," Jonathan said, watching Mrs. Jennifer's face intensely. Mrs. Jennifer stood in front of Jonathan and frowned. "Yes. I didn't know when my husband borrowed the money, but he claimed to be doing business with Damian's father, before Damian took over the company," Mrs. Jennifer disclosed.

“You're lucky, ma'am. It seems like Sir. Gabriel loves you so much, unlike my ex-husband who cheated on me!" Celina’s throat closed up. She blinked rapidly, fighting the rising tide of panic and disbelief. “Yes. That’s… right.” She forced a nod, swallowing hard. “We’ve been married. W-We are doing great." Marissa gave an understanding nod and smiled warmly. “He’s so proud of you. I always thought you two made a great couple. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Celina’s knees felt weak. A cold wave washed over her as Marissa’s words settled into her like icy needles. The man she had been sharing stolen moments with—the man who whispered sweet promises and touched her like she was th

Manipulation, power, control—these were the threads that bound us together, whether she liked it or not. Jennifer Jenkins, the polished, dignified wife of Professor Callum, seemed like the epitome of grace to the outside world. But I knew her story all too well. Her husband had been a close friend of Amara’s father, the man who had made everything easy for Amara during her school years. To the public, Callum and Jennifer were the perfect couple. Everyone knew about their open marriage, but they didn’t know the full truth. Jennifer had been fucking her elder brother, Callum, for years. The three children she had, all of them belonged to him. No one ever suspected, but I had gathered the piece

But as my eyes looked into the room my heart stopped altogether in the middle of my chest. Sitting behind the desk was none other than my husband. His eyes bore into mine, a stoic and passive expression etched on his face. “Mr. Scott, the ladies from Walvern Media are here,” Jennifer announced. Miles Scott. Oh, my God. How had I been so dumb? How could I have not put the pieces together all this time? They had been in front of me the entire time. My husband, whom I had just met yesterday, was the richest man in America and the 8th richest in the world.

She had been hoping for this outcome for as long as I’d known her. "Oh my God. What happened?" I asked, wanting to hear the details as my curiosity piqued, a wide grin spread across Jennifer’s face. "She had been cheating on my father with James the driver. They’d been at it for years," Jennifer said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. My eyes widened further. I knew the driver she was talking about, honestly he wasn't all that, "James of all people" I wondered out loud, Mr Maxwell despite his age was a hundred times more good looking, "How did you find out?" I asked.

At the bottom, in neat handwriting: "The Collection - Phase One Complete." "Morrison wasn't working alone," I said. "This was organized. Professional." "You think Alexander Richie was part of it?" "I think Alexander Richie learned from it." I showed him another document. "Morrison died of a heart attack in January 2019. Alexander married his first recorded wife, Sarah Mitchell, in March 2019. Two months later." Mills stared at the timeline. "Like he inherited Morrison's... hobby." "Or his client list." I picked up Jason's phone records, the ones that had been bugging me for days. "Remember that mystery number Jason called the night before he died? I finally tracked it down."

“But, how is it that you were married to her all these years and didn’t even know what she liked to eat? That’s pretty pathetic for a husband…” “Ex-husband,” Adam corrected with a smirk. “What about you?” I snapped, glaring at Arlington. “Your pathetic pining for my wife from a distance, for years, has clearly gotten you nowhere. Talk about pathetic…” Arlington froze for a moment before smiling politely. “Not so distant, I admit.” “You are not the father of my child,” I replied, stepping aside for a nurse who had come down the corridor. “And neither are you, Adam.” “You’re sure of that?” Adam asked, crossing his arms. “How many times have you slept with Alice over the years? A dozen? Less?”