The Cold Husband Novels & Stories

"Crazy you,, I'm already married so don't ever call me again" "It seems that your murderous husband has taught my angel to be an opponent" "Watch your words yog, my husband is not a killer" "Ckckck,,, don't be angry dear your husband is indeed a cold-blooded killer if you want to come back to me then I will gladly accept you"

His voice is bitter and a touch frightened “Yes, he wants his money. I told him I’d get it somehow. I just needed a bit of time, but he had his men grab me and hold me down on a smelly pool table. You don’t know how terrified I was. He came close to breaking my hands with a fucking hammer.” At that strange, surreal moment, I feel no love in my heart for my husband. He seems like a stranger. Someone I never knew. Someone who just smashed my wonderful life into a thousand pieces. “Why didn’t he, then?” He looks down at the table and his hands become fists. “Because …” That coldness in my heart grows. “Because what, Nigel?” Tears crawl down his cheeks. “Because he wants you.”

Then together with Peter, they sailed away from us. "They're husband and wife. Cory and Peter," Adam said beside me. I just nodded at him. "How will you contact her?" I asked him. Didn't he tell me there's no reception here? "We have a two way radio on the cottage. That's what the guests are using to contact them. The caretakers are just residing on the neighboring island, anyway." I nodded. We went inside the cottage. I looked around as I admired the rustic vibe of the place. Almost everything was made of wood.

three months ago. Our marriage was like a well-acted movie, perfect on the outside, empty on the inside. Cipher D’Amato, billionaire, tech mogul, and coldest man alive. To the world, we were the perfect couple. In reality, I was just his shadow. I pushed the door into his study softly, and there he was as usual, his head over the desk surrounded by documents and folders, while his glowing tablet was still warm to his hand. His curly, dark hair covered his forehead. Even in his sleep, his jaw was still strained as if something was making him angry in his dream.

His movement was gentle, unlike his behavior the past few days. “There are many things you don’t know, Helga.” His voice lowered, almost a whisper. “And you’re not ready to know them.” Helga held her breath. A storm brewed inside her, a mix of fear, anger, and a curiosity she couldn’t suppress. “I’m not a doll you can order around at will. I’m a human being. I—” Zean suddenly stood. His cold demeanor returned in full force, like a door slammed shut. “But starting tonight, you are my wife. The wife of a mafia. So be prepared.”

The way that had no performance in it whatsoever. She felt the weight of it settle across her shoulders like something physical. Julian stepped behind her and touched her back — light, proprietary, the touch of a man confirming what’s his. “You’re going to make a wonderful wife,” he said softly. “And I am going to be the best husband to you. I won’t make you cry. I won’t make you suffer. I promise you that.” She heard the words. She knew they were the right words. The words she had needed to hear — once, a long time ago, from someone else entirely, in a life that had gone differently.

I had a feeling there was another woman somewhere because countless times I had heard him discussing ever so sweetly on a phone to a woman but when I did interrogate him, I would end up with a slap or an insult. Twined tears trickled down my cheeks the more I pondered on my marraige. Was this even a marraige? I suddenly became claustrophobic and goosebumps raided my skin. As if on cue, I heard the clicking sound of the door being opened and I swiftly pivoted my face to its direction. Holding my stare, I jerked once we set our eyes upon each other. There he stood, my cold and mysterious husband. He was dressed in his white signature shirt and black trousers. It was partially unbuttoned to rev

A cold rush moved down my spine. “You’re not… you’re not my husband,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. He smiled. But it wasn’t Marcel’s smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. It was cold. Empty. “Hi there,” he said softly "and thank you for not interrupting my session last night” My heart sank, his words echoed in my head. “It was you last night…so my husband didn’t....” before I could finish, he grabbed the metal rod lying on a dumpster and swung it at me....pain exploded at the side of my head

Nathan, who was one of them, was also clapping his hands with all his might. Wiping away her tears, Hilda proceeded, "I believe each and every one of you are curious about who my husband is and are wondering whether it's true that he is an old and unattractive coal boss. Right now, I can tell you that my husband is a young and handsome man. He is also the kindest and best man I have ever met in my life! He is at the scene today, but I couldn't announce his identity because I don't think I deserve it!"

My heart, which had been beating with a cold, steady, tactical rhythm, gave a single, hard thump of confusion. He was kneeling. Right there, on the smooth, balanced tiled floor, in front of this audience of friends and allies, my husband was on one knee. This wasn't the cold monster from the crimson room, his face contorted with rage. This wasn't the icy, near-corpse from the bed. This was a stranger.