My Husband Faked Death To Live With His Mistress 소설 & 이야기

"I was reborn." Julian's eyes widened. He was completely stunned. I continued. "In my last life, after you disappeared, I gave up my spot at Columbia and spent ten years on a pilgrimage. I thought I was atoning for your death." My voice was flat, as if telling someone else's story. "Ten years later, I learned the truth. You weren't dead. You were with Scarlett, building an empire on my ghost. I died of a heart attack and woke up at your funeral, in this life."

Netizens had already uncovered the truth about her. [I thought she was just a pretty influencer, but turns out she's a homewrecker.] [Climbing the ranks as a mistress is one thing, but to deliberately provoke the wife? That's cruel, especially since she lost her child.] [I know about this. There was a little boy who was stabbed to death on Star Avenue recently. That must've been the wife's son. Word is, the father was with the mistress at the time, sending his own son out to run errands, and the boy was killed by a lunatic.]

After my husband picked up his secretary and our son, they went into the hotel for a business meeting. Photos of them were trending online. I gave him a call to ask him about it, but he hung up on me impatiently. “I’m meeting a client. Obviously, we’re meeting at the hotel! Can you stop being unreasonable?” I was busy contacting IT support to retract the trending topics. Two hours later, I received a call from the emergency department of the hospital. When I reached the hospital, my son was already dead.

Three years after his wife died, Simon Radcliffe went to file the school enrollment paperwork for his daughter, Poppy Radcliffe. Instead, he saw Eleanor Marlow, the wife he had buried, alive and well. She had one hand holding Poppy's and the other hooked through the arm of his brother, Jeremy Radcliffe. Simon was about to rush over and demand answers when his best friend, Kevin Sutton, held him back. "You've seen it now, Simon, so I might as well tell you. Eleanor never died. She faked her death to get away from you so she could marry Jeremy. Everyone else already knows." All of it was because Jeremy had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and wanted to know what having a real family

The night we get married, Hugo Lambert caresses the burn on my shoulder and says, "They said you risked your life to go into the fire and save Hayden back then. I didn't believe them, but now it seems like they were telling the truth." He smiles bitterly. "So, in your eyes, I'm nothing more than a stand-in for him." Before I can explain, he silences me with a kiss. After a night of passion, I just assume he's jealous and teasing me. But after that night, Hugo starts seeing other women and never comes home again. Even when my father, Bernard Colgan, is on his deathbed, Hugo is still spending the night with his mistress, Janelle Langdon. I call him for the first time in three years. "Hug

"Is this enough? I can get more. I'd rather the money come to me than go to the mistress." I counted the zeros. More than 150 million. Well, that was screw-you money, certainly. "More than enough. Alright, here's the plan. We can…" … We came up with the perfect plan and decided to fake our deaths. The date? My sister-in-law's birthday. The one to push the blame to? My husband's mistress, Lorelei. Oh, some people might call me cruel, but you should've seen the message she sent me. I'd love to make sure she gets a life sentence.

In the darkness, a suffocating sensation crashed over me, making my heart seize in sharp, wrenching spasms. As it turned out, Maddox Harlow had convinced my husband, Trevor Penn, to abuse me. Then, Maddox had pursued me himself, persuading me to fake my death and abandon everything just so I could be with him. However, this very man who claimed he would marry me was now planning to marry Callista Whitcombe right after burying me alive.

Calvin Yale, my husband, didn't visit me even a single time before I died. It wasn't until three days after I had died that he bothered to step into his stepmother, Margaret Sommer's ward. "Where's Clarissa? Get her out here now," Calvin ordered. Margaret lay in the hospital bed, her pale eyes dull and lifeless. She mumbled, "Clare's dead." Calvin furrowed his brow and scoffed. "You're saying someone like her, who's always fighting to stay alive, would actually die? Did she find out Jenna lost vision in her right eye and needed her help, so she went and hid?"

My husband, Marco, the man who sent me to die with bare hands. At this moment, he was fully geared up, wearing a heavy bomb disposal suit. Like a heroic knight, he charged desperately into the sea of fire. He didn't even spare a glance at me, lying in a pool of blood only a few steps away. He threw himself madly toward the unscathed Gina, shielding her tightly in his arms. Then, my world went completely black.

I commented. I made her seat in front of me and hug her from behind. She is resting her back in my chest. I kissed her forehead. It is just like it was yesterday when she asks me the work of being a fake husband. That is the ridiculous thing I heard but the most wonderful thing I agreed with. I, Wilson Martinez, the fake husband now the real one is signing off.