The Husband Novel Novels & Stories

The journey continues, and I promise I will not leave you waiting long. My next book is already on the app- PUNISHED BY HUSBAND, FORCED BY BIKER DADDIES . I am pouring everything into it — new voices, deeper silences, and perhaps a few answers to the questions this one raised. BLURB- My husband thought cheating would break me but he was wrong. I let him keep his lover… and took his pack and three alpha bikers wolves bound by loyalty and blood… and me... their human mate with a hunger for revenge.

“Right now. In my husband’s office. On his desk. I want you to ruin his perfect little wife while he’s away making money.” That was all Noah needed. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into her husband’s luxurious corner office, locking the door behind them. The second the lock clicked, he pushed her against the large mahogany desk, kissing her hungrily. His hands roamed greedily — squeezing her breasts through her blouse, then unbuttoning it roughly to expose her lacy bra. He yanked the bra down and sucked hard on her nipples while his fingers returned between her legs, pumping faster. “So fucking wet for your husband’s intern,” he growled against her breast. “You’re such a naughty wife.”

My husband has never touched me since we got married. I told myself it was stress, work or a phase…But it wasn't. What it did to me, I didn't have a name for — until my body started making decisions my mind never agreed to. So I went looking for medical help. I found Dr. Horace Adams instead. One examination. One look from him. And I walked out of that hospital feeling like he'd seen straight through me … and enjoyed every second of it. I told myself I'd never see him again. Then I found out what my husband had really been doing behind closed doors. And the next morning, my new CEO walked into the office. It was him…I mean the doctor that had examined my body.

“My husband says I don’t satisfy him in bed… and for that, he wants to take a lover. I want him forbidden from such an act and reminded of the sanctity of matrimony.” My eyes narrow, I wasn’t expecting such a personal, intimate matter. I was expecting matters in relation to theft or even inheritance. He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, he cuts in again. “Well, have you even bothered to inquire what could satisfy him in bed?” The woman looks down, embarrassed. “Many of them are impossible to achieve.” He scoffs. “How impossible? Or are you just weak?” I cut in quickly, my voice firmer than I feel. “Is your husband here?”

There was nothing new today except her story, and if I had known, I wouldn’t have bothered with it. I clicked on it, expecting a photo dump of her free time, but all I got was a flyer for a gala she was attending. I had clicked on the next story, not caring much about it, but something overly familiar caught my eye, and I was tapping back. I had to be wrong; it couldn’t be… But it was, just as I had suspected. They were having a medical gala for gynecologists, and guess who was a fucking host? My husband. The man I was fucking married to, the one that had just made promises to me some days ago.

, Adrian responded, his voice sounding helpless and anxious. My hands hurriedly clamped my mouth holding back the scream from escaping by chance. So I was right all this time. My own husband would go such lengths to humiliate his contract wife. Loosing the zeal to wash up as I couldn't risk being found out, I redirected my steps towards Mr. Hawthorne's study room with a plan to hide in there until he returned. My hands casually stroked the thousands of books on his shelf I'd always admired as I was also a lover of books. I reached to pull out another book from the shelf which turned out to be a frame instead.

“You’ve given that man three years of your light, Evelyn. Let Paris be the place you remember who you were before him.” Before Khalid. Before the whirlwind romance at the Met Gala, before I’d quietly closed my design studio to become the wife who understood his late nights and global ambitions. Before Natasha returned and I became furniture in my own marriage. I looked across the studio to the small desk where my laptop sat. The manuscript file was open. *The Husband I Once Loved*. The title still made my stomach clench. Khalid had read the first seventy pages last night. The confrontation that followed had been brutal—his hurt, my exhaustion, the way his voice cracked when he asked if I rea

Her breathing became uneven. Everything that had seemed impossible three days ago was now becoming reality. The secret house. Sophia. Lily. The photographs. The missing memories. The anonymous warnings. And now someone claiming that the man she had called her husband for seven years wasn't her husband at all. A sharp pain pulsed behind her eyes. She squeezed them shut. Fragments of memories flickered through her mind. Rain. Screaming tires. A man's voice shouting her name. Not Daniel's voice.

"Importante iyon." "Grace." "May private island." Napakurap ako. "Ano?" "Private island." Nakatitig siya sa screen na parang may nakita siyang himala. "May private island talaga siya." Napahawak ako sa noo. Hindi ko alam kung alin ang mas problema. Ang misteryosong kasal ko. O ang best friend kong mas interesado sa bank account ng asawa ko kaysa sa marriage mystery.

I kept my voice low. "No matter what you say, I'm the one he's legally married to. You'll always be the other woman, and your son will grow up without a father." She opened her mouth to fire back, but her phone rang. She turned the screen toward me. The caller ID read, "Hubby." Then she tapped it on speaker mode. Miles's voice came through, easy and familiar. "Hey, honey, are you home yet? Hector says he's hungry." Phoebe glanced at me, slow and deliberate, then spoke into the phone.