Novel & Cerita My Dreamy Old Husband Novel Free

Hello, I'm Rose. I thought my life was perfect with my husband Luke, until I came home from a trip to find the truth. I couldn't reach him because my phone had been lost. But finding his second phone on the couch , that was an opportunity to call my friend and informed her that I am back. I dialed her number, that's when I saw it. Sophia's name came up as "Honey," and the texts between them broke everything. Luke wasn't in love with me. He married me because of my father's business connections. "Once I get what I want from her father, I'll divorce her," he wrote. My heart was shattered, and I couldn't believe my eyes as Luke and Sophia entered the house together, looking like lovers. A marriage based on a lie, what choice is there? Find Out!

While the whole world knew about Lyra Hades as the heiress of the 'Hades Group', I, her twin sister, Leilani Hades, was nothing, but her shadow whom nobody knew existed.'Marry Jaxon Grant in my place, and I will consider helping you' When my beloved nanny, the only one who ever cared about me was on the sickbed, at the verge of death, the only condition my twin sister gave in exchange for giving me money for the treatment, was to marry her boyfriend in her place. 'She couldn't be with a man who was just an adopted son. A dog of the Grant's family who was likely to not get any inheritance' that was her excuse for not marrying him, taking advantage of our identical face to fool him.However, there was something weird about my new husband from the day we got married. His aura, his charm, everything about him screamed power. He wasn't an ordinary adopted son whom my sister had mistaken him for. My husband was hiding something from me, but what was it? Does he have a hidden identity?

One marriage of convenience. Two dangerous men. A secret that will burn an empire to the ground. Elena married Lorenzo Moretti for one reason: survival. To save her dying mother, she became the "Porcelain Queen" to the city’s most feared Mafia Don. The contract was simple: her company in exchange for his protection. No touch, no love, just a beautiful, silent cage. But the silence is shattered when Lorenzo’s estranged son, Dante, returns from Sicily. Brutal, reckless, and hungry for everything his father owns, Dante doesn't see a stepmother—he sees a challenge. What begins as a cold war of glances in the hallways spirals into a visceral, forbidden obsession. Caught between the man who saved her life and the man who makes her feel alive, Elena enters a world of blood and betrayal where every kiss is a death warrant. Now, a pregnancy has turned the Moretti household into a ticking time bomb. With a husband who is physically incapable of being the father and a son ready to kill for the throne, Elena must navigate a deadly game of shadows. In this house, the only thing more dangerous than the truth is the lie that keeps you alive.

Three years of contract marriage, and Silas has been the picture of icy restraint — buttoning his shirts all the way to the top. Knowing he doesn't love me, I decide to stop lying to myself. But just as I'm about to flee with the divorce papers, I stumble upon a forum called Mischief & Mayhem. The pinned post screams in red letters: "URGENT! I'm actually an incubus. I've spent three years pretending to be cold and celibate so I won't scare my wife. But she just asked for a divorce and I can't hide it anymore... HELP: How do I win her back in 30 days without revealing what I am?" In the attached photo, a black heart-tipped tail is shamefully coiled around a suit trouser leg, its tip hooked around a tie. That tie — I bolt upright in bed. That's the limited-edition tie I gave Silas. My iceberg husband is secretly a lovesick male incubus?

A never-ending lie starts with a desire for something. How far can you go for the person you treasure the most? How deep can you dig to make everything go according to your plan? Solana Stone was deprived of love and yet her heart never seeks for revenge. She was forced to marry the illegitimate son of the Evans family, replacing her adoptive sister who stole her boyfriend. Her life with her husband was simple. She learned to live a comfortable life in a small house with him and later found herself falling in love with her husband. It was like magic, she was enchanted. But how can she be happy with the life she has when she’s been living in a lie?

By my third month on the job, I discovered that my coworkers had been calling me "the old crow" behind my back. The nickname came from none other than Jace's condescending secretary—because at 32, I was still clutching onto an eight-year relationship that hadn't ended in marriage. I confronted Jace. "Do you know your employees have been calling me the old crow?" He didn't even bother to look up. "That's just Sadie—she speaks her mind and means no harm. You're 32; why get so worked up over what a young girl says?" Then he gave me a faint, mocking smile. "Though honestly, it's a pretty fitting nickname." It felt like a cold hand had wrapped around my heart. So that was it—eight years of my youth, nothing more than a joke to him. I turned and walked away, handed in my resignation, and blocked every way he could reach me. But for the first time, the man who had always seemed so calm and untouchable finally panicked. "Elara," he pleaded, "please come back."

Everyone knows that I'm the woman whom Oliver Reed, the richest man in Jeston, loves the most. Ever since I get pregnant, Oliver dotes on me even more and obeys every whim I have. One day, I realize that I've gotten kidnapped to an auction house after waking up from my nap. To my horror, my husband and his friend group can be seen sitting beneath the stage. Someone says with a grin, "Hey Oliver, how is it that you have time to bring Caroline to the hangout with you today? Everyone keeps claiming that Alexandra has you wrapped around her little finger now that she's pregnant." Oliver looks at the woman next to him. While he looks relatively exasperated, he still says dotingly, "I've been spending so much time with Alexandra that Caroline is already mad at me. Today, I managed to block out some time in my schedule to spend time with her." I do my best to squirm and struggle so that I can seek help from Oliver. Finally, I'm able to attract his attention. But he slowly lifts his bidding card while saying, "Number 7 keeps squirming, so she must be a slutty one. Here's one million dollars—I want her to be on the stage."

I was three months pregnant when our enemies ambushed me on a private drive in Manhattan’s East Side. A bullet punched through the window. Glass buried itself in my shoulder. With the last bit of strength I had, I hit the Moretti family’s encrypted distress signal and called my husband, Adrian Moretti, for help. He didn’t come. Later, I found out he had pulled the Moretti family’s best trauma surgeon and security detail away that night to stay with his old flame, Evelyn Langdon. She had just lost her husband. She was carrying his child. She said a nightmare had left her gasping for air. I lost our baby in the emergency room. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Evelyn’s new post. [Some people don’t need to ask. He’ll still drop everything and come running. Thank you, A. You always know what I need most.] In the photo, Adrian was kneeling by her bed, fastening the ruby necklace around her throat. The same necklace he had promised me for our tenth anniversary. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I called Professor Clark. “Professor, I’ll take the classified seat at the Artemis Northern Institute. Start the Black Ice Protocol. Wipe my public identity as soon as possible.”

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

My husband worked overtime in the studio and suffered from an explosion. His body was blown to pieces. When my bestie frantically told me the news, I just nodded calmly. She called and texted me nonstop. She urged me to go to the site to recognize my husband's body. I blacklisted her and bought a ticket to go abroad. In my previous life, when I heard the news, I stopped at nothing and rushed to my husband's studio. However, I only saw my husband's cold ashes. My bestie said that my husband had poured out his troubles to her once. My husband said that I had run up a mountainous debt for gambling. He wanted a divorce, but I threatened him that he would have a sky-high debt if he divorced me. Even my mother cried and accused me of often going to the casino and taking men home at midnight. But none of this was true. I treated my husband very well; just a few days ago, I gave him a million-dollar watch as a gift. And I had never done anything related to gambling. Facing their accusation, I chose to call the police to prove my innocence. However, the police discovered my diamond necklace at the explosion site, where forensic experts also found my fingerprints. I failed to prove my innocence and became the heinous murderer who killed my husband. My mother took me to court for justice and took over my business empire. In jail, I was retaliated and died. When I opened my eyes again, I regained my life on the day when my husband suffered from the explosion.