La Esposa Del Fantasma Mga Nobela at Kwento

Leaving his wife and sister at the table. Roma look at the untouched food on the table left by her husband, she called out to the help to clear the table. “Ohh my, I can’t believe Adrian is back and didn’t even bother coming home.” Her comment sounded sarcastic. But Roma ignored her. A woman who seemed to be in her early forties said. The woman who is Adrian aunty, Belinda, she is the Junior sister of Edward and she stays in the family with her adopted daughter Kira.

he added, which sent her shivers down her spine. The look on his face gradually changed, his lips curling into a devilish smile. "And that would be none other than my wife." "Althea Theodora Corazon-Sibal." * * * ALTHEA felt a shiver down her spine once her eyes dropped to the two corpses lined up on the side. Tears rolled down her eyes as she quivered in fear of the monster right in front of her. A man who would do everything just to impose a horrendous love that shouldn't exist in the first place. "Te amo, Amor."

The sound of footsteps grew closer and faster, causing the woman's spirit to turn to look at the man who had walked in with a panicked expression. Rachata looked at the event in front of him with extreme confusion and shock. His wife was lying down with a knife in his hand. Looking at the stone slab, the bloodstains were still stuck. What are you doing here? The distraction and worry made him helpless. The young man hurriedly put the knife back in place and immediately carried his wife’s body out of the room, while the eyes of the girl spirit still looking. ‘No, it is impossible. Why can’t you see me?’

I muttered bitterly after drinking from my glass. "It was just a marriage for convenience. I was his contract wife," I added while pouring myself another glassful of tequila. "And that woman we saw with him in the restaurant," I scoffed while motioning my hand in the air. "That was his real wife." "Real wife?" Selene frowned. She stared at me with disbelief written all over her face. "Are you drunk?" she snapped. "Not yet!" I growled. "I'm not drunk! That's his real wife! She came back from the dead after years!"

My roommate, John Swift, asked in shock, “Pete, are you throwing that away? I thought you cherished that photo a lot.” I shook my head and cut Bella out of the family portrait. I tore it into pieces. John seemed to understand. “Pete, is your wife alive?” I pulled out my phone. Someone had sent me a text two weeks ago. [Bella’s still alive.] There was a photo attached to the message. It was a selfie of Bella and Carlson. Two weeks ago, I found out that my wife, who had supposedly been dead for five years, was still alive. When I first found out the news, I could not even sleep.

Never in a million years did I expect her to cheat on me and have children with another man through surrogacy A trace of panic flickered across Krystal’s face. She averted her gaze and held her tongue. Dale Abbot, on the other hand, approached me with two glasses of red wine in hand. He said, “Don’t get upset, sir. Since you can’t give Ms. Markham kids, she borrowed my sperm to produce heirs. No one is taking your place as her husband.” While downing the glass of wine, Dale handed me the other drink and uttered, “I’m counting on you to take good care of my children.”

The moment I pushed the door open, I stopped. A family dinner was underway, loud and lively. I ignored the stares and stepped in, eyes burning. "Olivia, did you tell my mom that our marriage is fake?" For a second, I still hoped she would deny it, say it was all a misunderstanding. She didn't. She met my eyes without flinching. "Yes. I thought you could get along with Randall, but you went too far. This is just a consequence." Whatever hope I had left broke apart. I let out a quiet laugh.

She looked exactly like a good wife. It turned out everything had been made up. Every business trip had been fake. Maybe guilt had gotten to her, so she had used an even more obvious cover, trying to make me feel loved while making herself look like a good wife. Every dish served at the reception was expensive, but none of it tasted like anything to me. When it was time to make the rounds for the toast, they came to our table. Sinead looked a little awkward, and so did the friends around her. Still, they all played along well enough. One of Sinead's timid friends almost called me by name, but Sinead stopped her in time.

Her situation was so pathetic that she laughed at herself in the mirror, tears pouring down her eyes as she loathe herself. Drusilla draws near, reaching out to her mirror as she caresses the image. The woman without an identity is the so-called dead wife of Ethan. "My dear husband. Drusilla George, is coming to haunt you, and you're going to pay back in a hundred folds," she swore, and she wasn't just talking.

“The woman… who is she?” “We don’t know yet. Please, go home.” I stumbled back to the car, barely breathing. Was it her? Did I just lose her…? Back at the house, something felt off. The air was too still. The silence, too loud. I stepped inside cautiously, every sense on high alert. Someone was here. And then I saw her. But it wasn’t Eveyeln. It was Erica. My wife’s sister. Smirking. Before I could say a word, she threw herself at me, her lips pressing hard against mine.