Nathaniel Buzolic Wife Novels & Stories

Yet, his father's terms came with a high price of choosing between his wife and his inheritance or losing it all. Nathaniel's ex-wife, or rather, his one time contract wife, Olivia, was more than just a business partner. Their journey together was marked by challenges, misunderstandings, and even affection. He couldn't deny the connection that had developed between them, even if it was born out of necessity.

I guess he had seen it coming all along, he knew this was going to happen, yet he went anyway, why would he do that to me. Now that bitch is gaining sympathy from everyone, gaining popularity as the youngest widow in the city, going for different photo ops, acting like she is hurt. Nathan was never married to that bitch, he is my husband, mine. I have a marriage certificate that proves that, I’m sure that our marriage would not be registered in court if he had been married before. I am his wife and nobody would bury my husband without my permission, not when I am still alive.

I would absolutely love that. “Do you know,” Jane said to me, “Nathan was in a very serious relationship that ended right before he got signed for this film. His fiancée is apparently a Swedish supermodel. Her name’s Clara Olsson. And, apparently, they ended a four year relationship over a petty dispute!” “Really?” I asked, trying to show interest. Anything to distract me from my thoughts. “Speak of the devil,” she said, glancing behind me. I turned around. Nathan grinned and waved as he walked towards her.

"Oh, and this is Nicole, by the way, my wife." Trish narrowed her eyes as she scanned Nicole. "This is... your wife?" she questioned, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Seriously, Nathan? You married someone like her? How come I didn't know you were already married?" I just shrugged, not wanting to dive into my personal life. "Can I ask why you're here?" "I just found out you're the CEO of Maxwell Group. I wanted to come by and congratulate you in person. As a friend, I’m really proud of what you’ve accomplished, Nathan," she said, sounding genuinely sincere.

Nathan stroked his wife's hair. "Where are you going tomorrow?" Nathan asked softly. "To the boutique, I have a meeting with the design team." Nathan nodded. "I'll drive you, okay?" Elena smiled. "Do you want to stay with me, Mr. Nathan?" "Sure. I don't want some other guy flirting with my beautiful wife." Elena chuckled. "Jealous?" Nathan pulled his wife's body into his arms. "Yes. But not as bad as you were last night."

"I was ashamed. But I swear to you, Isla, there’s no part of my past that threatens what we have now." "Unless it follows us," I murmured. He took my hands. "Then we face it. Together." --- The following days were a whirlwind. Wedding plans moved forward—Judith booked a vineyard for the reception, Nathan finalized the catering with his head chef, and I found the dress. But beneath the beauty of it all, the shadow of Boston lingered. Then came the second message. This time it was a photo. A picture of Nathan and a woman—Ava, presumably—standing outside the old bistro. She was smiling. He was holding her hand.

Nathan leaned back against the chair, folding his hands together. “Nathaniel got married to a Russian woman about seven years ago. At first, everything seemed perfect. The business thrived. They had a daughter. Life looked golden from the outside. Then he met his mistress. A much younger woman. He left his wife and child behind without a second thought, thinking he was untouchable.” Allan’s jaw clenched, listening carefully.

He reached into his sleek leather briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers, holding them out to Ethan. “Here’s the original copy of the divorce agreement my client signed during the talk show,” Nathaniel announced, his tone professional but cutting. The silence in the room deepened. Beatrice’s face turned red with fury, while Clement’s brows furrowed, betraying a flicker of unease before he masked it behind his usual stoic demeanor. Ethan, however, was visibly caught off guard. “Nathaniel Hawke?” Ethan asked, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes darted to Zara, then back to Nathaniel. “How—how do you even know my wife?”

Some silent murmurs went up from the crowd while Xavier creased his forehead into a frown, he didn’t even know what Bianca was about to say now. “Nathan Hernandez was my first husband” she announced and everyone went crazy. Even the ones who were watching from home all went into a state of shock. No one saw this coming and even Nathan himself was left dumbfounded. What the heck was happening. “What do you mean?” The reporters continued to ask but instead Bianca with a smile on her lips halted them before pointing her hand towards Nathan. “Why don’t you ask him, he is standing over there. I think my work here is done” with that she saw them rush over to Nathan while the smirk on her lips disa

She leans past me, peering frantically down the hallway toward the street. "Yeah, I know," I say, stepping into her space and forcing her to retreat inside. "You called Anders. He told me exactly where you were." Betty scowls, slamming the door shut and throwing the deadbolt. "Who were those people, Nathaniel?" she breathes, lowering the bat to rest it against the wall. I glance at her, and then look directly at the blonde woman clutching the wooden bat like it's Excalibur. Betty sighs, rubbing her temple. "Oh. Nathaniel, Lucy. Ex-husband, best friend."