What Is William Afton's Wife's Name Mga Nobela at Kwento

This showed that he was not the playboy that rumors had suggested. "You remembered your wife and daughter!" Thea exclaimed, filled with emotion. William exclaimed anxiously, "Miss, could you please help me find them? My wife's name is Sophia, and my daughter's name is Jade Fletcher. Before I had my accident, my daughter hadn't even been born yet. I wonder how they have been doing all these years." Thea's eyes turned red, and she finally found out her name. She was not called Isabella, but Jade. So she was not cursed like Victoria's mother: she was not an unwanted bastard.

To my face, they were polite, deferential even, out of fear of the Don. But the second Luca turned his back, the sneers and whispers cut through the low hum of the room, sharp as a switchblade. “A steward’s daughter, at the Don’s right hand? It’s a disgrace to the honor of the Families.”“She’s just the help that kept him alive when he couldn’t speak. Thinks she’s the Donna now?”“He’d never marry her. No bloodline, no name. Shames the Vitali legacy.” I stood alone, invisible, a ghost at the Family banquet.

Whitmore turned to me, smiling casually — as though her answer were the most natural thing in the world. "She's Madam Seraphina Ashford," she said. "Aldric Ashford's wife."

“Not in my company. Not anywhere.” I laughed, sharp and incredulous. “You don’t get to decide that.” His gaze darkened, not angry, not loud. Just… firm. “I already have.” I stepped closer, heat buzzing under my skin. “You don’t own me, Adrian. "You rendered that statement null when you signed the contract Elera" He said, his eyes intense, his body closer to mine, I could feel the heat from his body, raw and hot. I felt myself shrink back, he was right, I was the CEO's wife, well, at least on paper, it would make him look bad if I was just a common employee.

"Nice to see you again, Aunt Amanda. It’s been so long. Oh, isn’t Will here tonight?" "William’s in Europe, busy with work. You know how he is a very busy architect, Vanessa. Stop by his office sometime!" Mrs. Amanda replied warmly, just as William’s father approached the group of women. "Wow, Sebastian Tobias’s eldest daughter is all grown up and so beautiful. How are you, Vanessa? Are you married yet?" Mr. Garreth MacRay asked, shaking Vanessa’s hand. Mrs. Lindsay answered this time. "Ian, my daughter’s been busy helping her father at the company. She’s been slow to get married. What about William has he married or found a girlfriend?"

I said calmly, “You are Stacy. My wife died long ago. You even handled the cremation yourself.” She stared at me in disbelief. “How can you not recognize me? I am Wendy. Stacy is the one who died!” Hearing that made my heart sink even deeper. So, she knew everything, yet she chose to pretend and watched me become a widower. I said coldly, “How could I fail to recognize my own wife? You’re not her. No matter how alike you look, you are not the same person. She is gone. Why are you using her name to commit atrocities?”

That was how the Westons wrapped themselves around my life, how their family became entangled with mine. I hated that I still found him intimidating. Even now, even after marrying into this viper’s nest, he could silence me with a single glance. At his right, Estelle leaned back in her chair, perfectly coiffed hair gleaming under the light, lips curved into a cruel smirk. She's Jon’s second wife, by the way. And she's nothing like the first—the sickly, fragile woman who had at least been kind. Her name was Agatha and she passed away.

As if God's grace had soothed me down, I demanded, "I'll need you to repeat that again, William. Who is she to you, and who am I to you?" A hint of panic surfaced in William's eyes, but that did not change his attitude. With his chest puffed out, he said, "You need me to repeat myself? Fine, she's my wife, Selene Tousson. You are nothing but my colleague, Melanie Crossfire. Honestly, you can't just cling to me just because I treat my wife like a queen while your husband treats you like trash." Discussions and whispers rippled through the crowd. "I knew it. She's mad. Still, I feel sad for her. Her husband drove her to this."

he let out a small laugh and stopped when he noticed the disappointment on her face. “I don’t understand,” She whimpered. “Go inside, freshen up and rest a bit. When it’s dinner time I’ll explain everything to you” he rubbed her arm and left. “Ma’am” a lady dressed in black came. “I’ll help you with that” “Who’re you?” “I’m Anita, your personal attendant, ma’am” She replied. * * * Apparently, the only reason she was married to this gorgeous man was for the growth and stability of his and her father’s company. Her attendant had told her everything while she helped her sort herself out.

“You’re not alone. You never were. But if you keep pretending, you’ll drown before anyone can reach you.” Celina swallowed hard. For the first time in weeks, she felt something crack. “No, I did,” her father cut in, stepping forward. His voice was harder, older, filled with barely contained anger. “We heard from your cousin. Word’s spreading. This man you married—he has another wife? Another life?” Celina finally turned to face them, her eyes red but defiant. “I didn’t know.” “That’s not the point!” her father snapped, the sharp crack of his palm hitting the dining table reverberating through the room like a gunshot. The plates rattled, and so did Celina’s resolve.