Tiziano Ferro Husband Novels & Stories

I even saw rose petals scattered across the bed in the last picture. How romantic and thoughtful of him. If I had been foolish enough to question him, he would've said the caption was about friendship or rebuked me for being jealous of Yasmine. Eanes and I had been married for three years. Yet, not once had he ever made our relationship public. Now, not only was he spending our anniversary with another woman, but he was doing so in the most public way possible and declaring his love for her. Clenching my phone, I let out a bitter laugh. As I laughed, I suddenly made up my mind. I liked, commented, and shared his tweet, wishing them a wonderful time together.

“You're lucky, ma'am. It seems like Sir. Gabriel loves you so much, unlike my ex-husband who cheated on me!" Celina’s throat closed up. She blinked rapidly, fighting the rising tide of panic and disbelief. “Yes. That’s… right.” She forced a nod, swallowing hard. “We’ve been married. W-We are doing great." Marissa gave an understanding nod and smiled warmly. “He’s so proud of you. I always thought you two made a great couple. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Celina’s knees felt weak. A cold wave washed over her as Marissa’s words settled into her like icy needles. The man she had been sharing stolen moments with—the man who whispered sweet promises and touched her like she was th

The Ferri family had a son. Marco delivered the intelligence on Tuesday morning — a full profile assembled with the speed of someone who understood that time was the constraint and had worked accordingly. Alessandro Ferri had died in nineteen seventy-eight, fifteen years after the agreement, leaving behind a wife and one son. The son — Matteo Ferri — was now sixty-one years old. He lived in Milan. He ran a modest import business that had been his father's and was legitimate and unremarkable in every way except that it had survived three generations in a city where businesses like it usually did not.

“You have turned us into a joke.” Tiziana slowly lifted her chin. “Stefano loves me,” she said stubbornly. “He always has. After my husband died, it was Stefano who pursued me, not the other way around. I did not go searching for this...” Riccardo raised his hand sharply. It remained suspended between them for a long second. Then, slowly, he lowered it again. “Go to your room,” he said flatly. “I do not want to see you tonight.”

💖 prologue 💖 She felt his lips nipping her neck driving her crazy and she moaned softly. “, please don’t”, she whispered unable to find her voice. “ I can’t……. you drive me crazy”, he said” I must have you Cassie I must”,😘 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋 Meet Cassandra reis married to Domingo Salvador a rich businessman with investment scattered all over. But if anyone told her she would cheat on her husband who she loves with a handsome stranger she would probably trim his head off.

We are both laying on the sofa. My eyes flutter from her question. "Well... I don't---" I hold up my thought. I can't be with her. She is already someone's wife and of all the people it's the actor that I loved so much. "No, I can't. No... Why did I allow this? This is a mistake." I flinch when she picked up a strand of my hair. "I'm sorry so sorry you have to be in this awkward situation... Since I'm a married woman." She finally broke the silence.

As the wife of the Don, I never imagined my husband would lock our own daughter in an icehouse and freeze her to death, all because he suspected I'd kidnapped his mistress's sons. It started the day before. I found out that my husband, Alessio Moretti, the boss of the Moretti family, had twin bastard sons. Rage, pure and hot, blinded me. I snatched the photos from the private investigator and stormed into his study. "Your whore gave you twins?" I didn't bother knocking, just slammed the photos onto his desk.

I stared silently out the floor-to-ceiling windows and took a sip of champagne. Outside, the Malroy City sunset hit the peaks of the Aespen Hills and painted everything gold. My phone buzzed. It was a message from my husband. [What do you want for dinner tonight? I’m cooking.] He attached a photo of the trout he had just caught next to our lakeside villa in Reydonia. [That looks good.] I stood up and left the event venue. Behind me, the giant screen displayed Hansen Group’s latest financial report. The numbers soared, and the applause continued. I didn’t look back.

I told her, rubbing my forehead. She nodded slowly and told me to take all the time I needed to understand what was going on, and she lay down to rest because she had talked to me a lot and she was tired, and I left the room quietly. When I went back to my room I sat on the bed and I took out my phone and checked the Minister of Defence. He has been married for many years and all his children are older than Jonathan, so he had an affair when his children were all grown up. He had never gotten divorced and was still married to his wife who is also from a rich family, and his children are also doing well for themselves.

“No, god, who has time for that? Anyway, then he cooks me dinner. And I mean cooks it, a full pasta meal with dessert - really cook, like the pasta was made from scratch. His mother taught him how to make it.” “So, you are marrying him for his pasta?” Emily raised her eyebrows. It wasn’t the most outrageous reason that Megan had contemplated marrying a man for. “No, I would marry him for his – hey, watch it you arsehole! That guy almost sideswiped me, Emily, I swear it and have dash-cam evidence. Anyway, what have you been doing rather than answer my calls?” “I have been in a meeting all afternoon. Well actually not a meeting.” Emily confessed. “A recording studio.”