Una Esposa De Mentiras Novels & Stories

I leaned closer to him, and with my face just beside his, I said, "Let me correct you on that, Edward. You are the failure. And I am nothing like you. Damn, it is such a pity, Edward, you tried so hard and still, you couldn't be a decent husband. You were even shittier as a father. But you know what you are never going to get to even attempt? Being the grandfather to the sons, my wife, Dr. Estera Roberts, gave me." He gasped. I chuckled. "I married her you fool. I was never married to Mary Antoinette. I am not her real husband. It would be pitiful, wouldn't it? If I had truly done so and ended up with your cast-off." I drew back and saw his face blanched. "I even have it on tape, Edward. Yo

My roommate, John Swift, asked in shock, “Pete, are you throwing that away? I thought you cherished that photo a lot.” I shook my head and cut Bella out of the family portrait. I tore it into pieces. John seemed to understand. “Pete, is your wife alive?” I pulled out my phone. Someone had sent me a text two weeks ago. [Bella’s still alive.] There was a photo attached to the message. It was a selfie of Bella and Carlson. Two weeks ago, I found out that my wife, who had supposedly been dead for five years, was still alive. When I first found out the news, I could not even sleep.

No one could believe I’d left Luca Vitali. Then the pieces clicked into place. The way my body had gone rigid in the Lincoln, when he’d spoken to his consigliere in Sicilian dialect. “She speaks the dialect?” he whispered, spinning on the guard. “Fluently, Don. She handled the casino’s Sicilian accounts in it for years. You never knew?” A deafening buzz split his skull. I’d known. All along. Every word about the real marriage license, the fake one to placate me. Every lie, every betrayal.

Peals of laughter spluttered out of Leila and her friend as Marina cradled the stinging flesh, tears streaking down her cheeks. “You whore.” Lady Carter spat, her eyes gleaming with fury. “She was one before I married her,” Collin added. “The greatest mistake of my life.” “I’m glad your eyes are open now,” Leila yelled from where she stood, watching the drama with satisfaction. “How dare you lie to the Carter family? You knew you were barren, yet you stayed in this marriage, deceiving my son.” Marina opened her mouth, but no word came out. Her vision blurred with tears.

Brandon's management team, the bodyguards, and that arrogant property manager were all instantly pinned to the ground, crying and wailing. Cassie watched the dark gun barrels aimed at her and finally broke down completely. She screamed at me hysterically, "Arthur! You can't do this to me! I'm your wife! I was wrong! I was really wrong! Make them let me go! Please! Don't you love me? You've sacrificed so much for me. You can't be this heartless!" However, the only response she got was the soldiers coldly pulling her arms behind her back and binding them tightly with restraints. Her precious designer dress was pulled out of shape. Her carefully styled hair hung in disheveled tangles, making he

Ethan Borromeo: "I never believed in destiny… As everyone says… that when you meet your soulmate, the stars align, and the heavens open a door for a coincidence to meet the one you’re destined for. It was just a childish, funny quote to me… before meeting Sophia… my wife. And being with her feels like everything falls into the right place. Sleeping next to her… Watching every smile on her lips… Protecting her from pain… It’s my fulfillment. I’m content. If that isn’t called destiny… I don’t know what is." Sophia Soledad: "I really wanted to believe every word coming from your mouth… every sweet gesture you’ve made for me… but how can I, Ethan? Because I know you’ve said all those things to S

The woman drank water and sighed once before answering, "Your... wife." The man was so confused, he did not believe what his woman had said to him. He pointed out all the dimensions in which he inculcated the case in his mind, even though Jane wasn't dead. Kate told him the whole story, shifting each real event into a fallacy. The statements appeared to be credible, but the man required confirmation because he had planned everything.

And now, standing in front of me in our kitchen, he was attempting to play the role of the wounded, betrayed husband—not because he was actually remorseful for what he’d done to me, but because someone else had answered my distress call before he could control the fallout. "You have got to be absolutely kidding me, Marcus." "I'm completely serious, Elena." "Marcus. Stop." His voice suddenly rose, the control fracturing. "I come home after trying to reach you all night, only to find another man walking my wife through the front door—" "Your wife?" He stopped mid-sentence. I took a deliberate step forward, moving out of the shadows of the foyer and into the harsh light of the kitchen. "Your wi

The moment I pushed the door open, I stopped. A family dinner was underway, loud and lively. I ignored the stares and stepped in, eyes burning. "Olivia, did you tell my mom that our marriage is fake?" For a second, I still hoped she would deny it, say it was all a misunderstanding. She didn't. She met my eyes without flinching. "Yes. I thought you could get along with Randall, but you went too far. This is just a consequence." Whatever hope I had left broke apart. I let out a quiet laugh.

"But he isn't the one holding my hand right now." What the hell. She was playing. She was making a mistake. I did my best to stay composed. I tried to smile. I tried to show she was joking. Then the cameraman asked. “Why did you say that? We know Mr. Santiago is your husband.” She blinked. “Is he? I remember divorcing him six years ago.” Then she immediately pressed her palm to her mouth, faking innocence. “Ups. Sorry. We are married. Happily even. Dante is the villain. Mateo isn’t.”