Novel & Cerita Mr Fashionable

Everyone knows me as a gentle and calm wife. On our wedding night, my husband, Julian Chapman, sleeps with another woman. I tell myself that it's part of being married and that I should be understanding. He blows through the 30,000 dollars I brought into the marriage. I kept my silence. Then, he brings home one mistress after another. I pour them drinks myself. When his gambling debts finally catch up with him, he sells me to a brothel without a second thought. "This is my wife. She's quiet, obedient, and easy to deal with. Take her instead. Do whatever you want with her." I laugh. He has no idea that I had a reputation before I ever married him. They called me the Queen of Hell. I ha

Sofia, I'm eagerly awaiting your updates from Spain! Sofia stood tall and confident, her sun-kissed skin radiating a vibrant glow that caught the eye of everyone in the room. Her perfectly applied makeup accentuated her striking features—high cheekbones, full lips, and bright eyes that sparkled with enthusiasm. She wore a pair of chic Marc Jacobs jeans, priced at an impressive two hundred dollars, that clung to her curves with a perfect balance of comfort and style. The rest of her outfit—a crisp white blouse tucked elegantly into her jeans—was completed with sleek, pointed-toe heels that added a touch of sophistication to her overall look.

"So what if you have money? With a husband as ugly as yours, I bet you can't even eat properly every day. Do you have nightmares at night? Poor Jules. You will have to face an eyesore every single day. It is bound to shave years off your life..." She suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Her face filled with amazement as she stared toward the entrance of the boutique. Following her gaze, I looked up. Marco strode in wearing a khaki trench coat, every step confident and effortless. He was so strikingly handsome, like a runway model walking straight off the catwalk.

I remained silent and stared at Madison calmly. When she saw that I didn't respond, Madison grew even more arrogant. "Do you really think you've become a socialite just because you’re running a company and have won a few projects?" Her imposing demeanor carried a certain air of authority. "Just wearing a branded dress doesn't make you sophisticated. Someone who's both an ex-wife and a mistress should be more cautious. I'd advise people like that to control themselves and stay low-key," Madison said, looking quite pleased with herself. After her remark, I couldn't help glancing at her expensive attire.

She swiftly made an appointment at his prestigious shop, promising a touch of elegance and sophistication for the weddings as his works had spoken for him. As the appointed day arrived, excitement lingered in the air as Gabriella, Isabella, and Emily readied themselves to visit Freddie's establishment. The three women were eager to meet the renowned stylist and explore the possibilities that could make the weddings even more special. The journey to Freddie's shop was filled with laughter and chatter, their enthusiasm lighting up the car. They exchanged ideas, dreams, and hopes for the weddings, eager to merge their visions into a beautiful reality. Arriving at the stylist's opulent shop, the

I didn't bother with any makeup other than a swipe of deep red lipstick. When she's going to die, what does a female need with mascara? Felix gracefully gets up from the couch. He sets his whisky down on the glass coffee table while maintaining eye contact with me. Ropey muscles bulge and contract beneath his white shirt as he stalks towards me. Because he is so attractive, most girls would take one glance at him and then spend the next month masturbating in public. She had honey-gold skin, dark eyes with hoods, a sly grin, and thick chestnut hair that you could tell was as soft as it appeared to be. The high-end attire and flawless fashion sense also help. Even his aroma, which is deep sand

Marco Francesco escorted a woman across the marble steps toward me. She was wearing a lush red dress that clung to her like a second skin. Her heels clicked with confidence, hips swaying like she knew what I wanted. Long dark hair, porcelain skin, light blue eyes—not as intense as hers, but the resemblance was enough to twist something in my gut. Francesco stopped in front of me, a scowl on his face. “She looks like her,” he muttered.

Autumn bent down and hugged Mrs Fraser who held her more than she could have bargain until she finally released Autumn at Charlie's urgency. "Mrs Fraser." The three turned to see Iris who was dressed extravagantly unlike everyone in the room who barely wore a pop of color. Iris was wearing a bright lemon haute couture dress. The dress was strapless, with a choker-style neckpiece attached to it, giving it a modern, edgy look. "I've heard so much about you." Iris muttered bowing in respect waiting for Mrs Fraser to probably tell her to come and hug her as well but she remained frozen in her spot.

Evelyn said, gesturing to a tall, elegant woman with a confident demeanour. Francoise greeted us warmly. "Welcome, darling! Evelyn told me you need a makeover." Evelyn nodded vigorously. "My brother's wife needs to look stunning for the press conference tomorrow." Francoise wasted no time. She began working magic on my hair, transforming it into elegant waves that cascaded down my shoulders. As I gazed in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. The reflection staring back was polished and glamorous, a stark contrast to the girl who had walked into the store just hours before.

This here, screams power and wealth. I take my eyes off the interior for a bit and there, I notice, seated in one of the chairs is a woman. Not just a woman but a very beautiful woman. She is clad in a red, silk dress with matching red lips. She has a bored expression masked with a smile on her face, so she looks like she is trying very hard— but failing— to look happy or interested in whatever is going on this evening. She had matching diamond necklace and bracelet. I don't need to be told who the mistress of the house is because her appearance and demeanor scream it loud enough for me to not miss it. This is certainly Francesca. She looks like a Francesca, sophisticated like her name.