Logan Chitwood Wife Mga Nobela at Kwento

the reporter announced. "Can you please turn that up?" I asked the cab driver, my stomach tightening with sudden dread. "It is rumored that the man in the blurred video is Mr. Lockwood's stepbrother. And everyone, get this, Mrs. Sylvia Lockwood was a stripper before she got married to Mr. Gray, and their whole marriage was just on paper as Mr. Gray Lockwood only agreed to marry Sylvia due to the wishes of his grandfather... Stay tuned with us for more exclusives on this story," the reporter continued.

Upon seeing Liam, Chuck immediately stood up, but his eyes lit up when he laid them on Gwyneth. "Mr. Luther, long time no see. And who might this be..." Chuck didn't have any ulterior motives, but appreciation for beauty proved to be universal, and he was no exception. Without a trace of hesitation or animosity, Liam responded with an air of confidence, his hand gracefully encircling Gwyneth's waist. His voice resonated with conviction as he introduced her, "This is my wife." Chuck said, "Ah, Mrs. Luther, I've heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Then, behind him, a voice spoke, calm, smooth, and sharp all at once. “My, my. Growing a conscience now, Doctor?” He froze. Slowly, he turned his head and saw Lisa standing in the dim light, her arms folded, her smile small and cruel. “Strange time to find your moral compass,” she said softly. “You should’ve thought about that before.” Her words slithered closer, almost a whisper. “If you’re thinking about backing out now… I’d remember the photos. You and that young woman from the hotel. The one your wife still doesn’t know about.”

“Arabella, I just thought the bangle was pretty and wanted a look. If you didn’t want me to, you could’ve just said so… why did you push me?” The music screeched to a halt. All eyes were on us. For the past seven years, any woman who dared to challenge me was thrown out of this estate without a second thought. I once shoved a movie star's head into a freezing fountain in front of all of Chicago. She had tried to climb into Santino’s bed. "What's wrong?" Santino pushed through the crowd, pulling Fiora into his arms. He looked down at an extremely faint red mark on the back of Fiona's hand, his brows knitting together at once.

"Of course not!" I sat down. It was almost funny, attending my own wife's wedding and whatnot. I started looking around. Before long, the older woman beside me struck up a conversation. "Those two look perfect together, don't they? It wasn't easy for them to get married." I gritted my teeth, but the bitterness still came. "What made it hard?"

To distract myself, I listened to an audiobook on my phone and nibbled on some saltine crackers, ignoring the look of disapproval on Aiden's face at eating in the car. Mercifully, we were soon turning into the long driveway of the Manor, and I sat up to watch the passing scenery, nostalgic at the familiar and comforting sight of the tall cypress trees that lined each side of the gravel drive, the glimpses of well tended flower gardens and just over the small hill to the west, was Lake Maria, named after Julian's first wife and Aiden's mother. A whimsical smile played on my face as I recalled many a happy memory in my teens spent running and messing around the banks of that lake, I would spen

The stocks, the bonds, the accounts I'd barely had four years to enjoy before the cancer came. "He'll take care of everything," I whispered, more to convince myself than Whitmore. "He's my husband. He loves me." Whitmore's silence spoke volumes, but he gathered the documents without argument. He'd tried to talk me out of this three times already. Suggested trusts, stipulations, safeguards. But I was tired. So tired. And I wanted to believe that my life hadn't been as lonely as it felt in this sterile hospital room. "There is one more thing," I said, my voice cracking. "My last wish. I want to see Adrian. One more time. At the estate."

The house was much livelier now, compared to the quiet stillness before. "You used to want a dog, but I always thought dogs were dirty. Now, after keeping one for a month, I finally understand the joy of having a dog," she said. A fluffy white puppy rubbed against my ankle. A framed photo of us rested on the wooden cabinet. In it, she wore a white dress, and I was dressed entirely in black. Angela looked at the photo and smiled as she drifted into memories. "Do you remember this picture? We were so poor back then. We asked a passerby to help us take it and used it as our wedding photo."