Marcos Montero Ex Esposa Novels & Stories

From the look of things he takes pretty good care of her so unless something else is going on here, it's most unlikely that she owes Montero any money. "Look, I have a visitor in my car. She quite prominent in Florida. Except you want to start a war, I'd advise you let us go. You'll have your money." I don't know how my sister has control over men. First she managed to steal Montero's heart and make herself the queen of his drug dealing empire, then she went on to my husband and is obviously playing a huge part in his life as well. I could barely keep my husband not to talk of controlling him. Like she used to say to me, I wonder if we really emerged from the same womb.

Lucien Cortez will wish he was never born. LUCIEN’S POV I sat at the front of the church, tie perfectly knotted, cufflinks gleaming, heart cold as steel. The air buzzed with murmurs. She was late. Of course, she was. I should’ve expected it. The infamous Zara Moretti, known for crashing underground auctions, threatening politicians, and setting a rival’s mansion on fire just for fun. Now she was my bride. My punishment. This wasn’t a union. It was war wrapped in lace and forged by blood deals.

"From every damn angle of this world, he needs 'me'. Which means... I should stay calm, love my body, and grant myself a Dior bag. Easy peasy." I was about to brush past them to shower when Laura gasped like she'd seen a monster dick on her phone screen. "What?" I asked. Soda peeked at her phone and matched the gasp. "What is it?" I repeated and snatched her phone... only to react the same. Only worse. I dropped to the floor like a corpse. The article headline read: "Billionaire Michael Montero Spotted with a Mystery Woman—His Fiancée Natasha Kaufman Nowhere in Sight."

"I know enough to keep him coming home to me. Which is more than you can say, isn’t it? After all, I'm his wife, and you're just… his ex." Monica's expression became stern. "We'll find out," she whispered angrily before heading quickly towards the elevators. In the afternoon, Monica was seated across from Marcus Lee in a stylish, contemporary office with a view of the city. The wide view didn't make Marcus's facial features any less harsh. "He fell for it," Monica said, a mix of triumph and resentment evident in her voice. Marcus spun the golden liquid in his cup. "Outstanding." "All is going according to plan."

The woman looked familiar but Ana could not tell where she had seen the face of the woman. "You are Ana Morrison, right?" came the woman's soft voice. Ana was shocked when the woman mentioned her name. She stared at the woman with a confused expression. The woman sat next to Ana and smiled at her. "I know you don't remember me because you only had the chance to meet me once. I am Mr Scott's first ex-wife," the woman said. "Ms Monica," Ana mentioned her name and Monica smiled. "I wasn't expecting to meet you here," she added and her gaze shifted to her small baby bump.

he added, sincerely looking at her eyes. Mari rolled her eyes and looked away. “I don’t care about the woman you loved, Mr. Montero.” she said, bluntly. “If you want to marry her, then let her remember you.” she added. “She doesn’t want to remember me at all, her heart doesn’t even know me.” Yin's tone was sad. “But no matter how I tried to make her remember me, she doesn’t want me and she’s dumping me.” he said with meaning.

“There will be no wedding. I’m free starting today.” But then— Something else caught my attention. “The sudden appearance of Don Ernesto Montevallo’s only child is also trending right now.” I froze. The screen flashed, and there he was. Miguel. My heart lurched. I barely registered the news anchor’s words. “Don Ernesto Montevallo, a longtime bachelor, shocked the business world by revealing his only son, Miguel Damien Montevallo. According to Don Ernesto, it took two decades before he reunited with his child from his ex-wife.”

The thought made her chuckle under her breath, and Victor raised an eyebrow. "Is there anything interesting, Mrs. Montero?" Her heart stuttered, and the air supply suddenly low. "I—" Mrs. Montero. How ridiculous, she had only just realized: they were married. Husband and wife, spend the rest of their life together. Her gaze fell to the surface of the water below them, as emotions too strong to explain began to draw her in. "I was just thinking, a week ago I would have said I don't have a sex bone in me," she says with a shrug.

I stood tall, meeting their eyes without flinching. “I understand your anger,” I said calmly. “Yes, I am Elena Morrison — Julian’s ex-wife. I changed my name and rebuilt my life after he destroyed it. I did not disclose my identity because I knew he would use it against me. But my work here has always been honest. My results speak for themselves.” Sophia, sitting quietly watching the exchange with wide eyes but said nothing.

“Do you, Celeste Marlowe, take Alessandro Romano to be your husband? Every eye in the room landed on my face again. God. Imagine being emotionally blackmailed into saying vows before breakfast. “I…” My throat felt dry. “I do.” The words tasted like betrayal, mostly toward myself. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Plain silence followed those words. No warmth, not even celebration. Just tension. You’d think we had just laid the dead to rest. Then Alessandro turned toward the guests. “From today onward,” he said evenly, “Celeste Romano is my wife.” The room stayed silent. “You will treat her accordingly.”