Who Is Your Jjk Husband

Mr. Rajendra Singh Chauhan got his darling granddaughter and the only heir of the Chouhan family, Krishika Chauhan, married to a lowly worker of his office knowing that Krishika will never be able to adjust in a middle class family. After all, what became such a compulsion due to which Rajendra Singh Chauhan had to get his granddaughter married to a lowly worker in his office.

“Where’s that bastard?” My eyes snapped toward the woman storming into the room like a hurricane. “I couldn’t stop her, Mr. Darian!” I waved the guy away and studied the woman whose hair looked like it had gone through war, clearly fighting her way up here. My brothers looked just as entertained as I did confused. “Which bastard?” “My bastard of a husband! Where is Darian Freeman?” My brothers burst out laughing like they’d just witnessed the world’s finest comedy show. I, however, failed to see the joke. She smoothed her wild hair, fixing those hazel eyes on me. “Tell me where he is. I swear I won’t kill him. I just want to shove these papers down his throat,” she said, waving the papers in my face. “There must be a mistake,” I said, still trying to piece this insanity together. “Oh stop feeding me fairy tales! Where is that son of a bitch?” “Are you insane? There’s clearly a mistake here! I am Darian Freeman and I am one hundred percent sure I am not your husband!”

“Congratulations on your wedding! Although we must have missed our invite in the mail. We’d like to catch up with…” There’s no reason to keep reading the mail beyond that point. It’s a variation of the same kinds of mails I’ve been receiving since the wedding three weeks ago. I pause at the door to his study, sounds of a woman riding on throes of orgasms, filters through the open crack. What would people say if they saw a woman with her legs spread out, in between her legs, my husband of a few days, sliding in and out of her? He keeps his dark eyes on me, bringing his signature scotch to his lips. I can’t take this anymore. How could he do this?? How did I end up with a man like this?? “Get out of my house!” I snap, The woman shrieks, scrambling to cover herself up with pieces of clothing. I grit my teeth hard. “She’s my guest.” “Take your guests elsewhere. This is not a whorehouse.” I snap, gritting my teeth so hard it feels like my jaw would crack. “Would you do what they do?” “W-what?” He leans forward, I keep my eyes above his waistline, specifically on the middle of his forehead. “Would you, instead of them, suck my cock?” His accent makes the word sound even dirtier than usual. Isaac's family demanded a husband, he delivered and now his life is a mess. A marriage on paper, a disaster in practice. Isaac Valentine needed a husband, not for love. And he met the last man he would ever choose, Ivan Romanov. The deal is clean. Everyone wins. Until it isn't. After all, what's more dangerous than a marriage of convenience? Real feelings with an expiration date.

The night Enzo was made boss of the Moretti family, I gave him my virginity. He was the heir I'd been promised to since before I could speak. We kissed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, tangled in the humid, twilight heat... His rough, urgent hands hurt me, but I didn't pull away. Even the pain felt sacred, a sacrifice I was willing to make for love. Lost in the heat of the moment, he promised me a pair of the most beautiful crystal shoes, so I could dance the opening waltz with him at his coronation ceremony the next day. The first dance is always reserved for the new boss and his future bride. I cried with joy, believing my years of secret pining and patient waiting would finally culminate in a fairytale ending. But I was wrong. So terribly wrong. The next morning, I dragged my aching body out to get his favorite espresso, only to overhear the guys joking as I returned: "So you finally popped the family cherry, huh? How was Vivian on your first night as boss?" Enzo's voice was lazy, mocking. "Face of an angel, body of a devil. She's a hot little viper in bed." The room erupted in sleazy whistles. "So, you really gonna marry her, young boss?" "Are you kidding me?" Enzo scoffed. "Vivian's just a warm-up. Once I get some practice in, I'll go tame the Falcone ice princess. When I get bored, I can always circle back and put a ring on her." I stood frozen in the doorway, my vision blurring, the coffee cup trembling in my hand. Before the world faded to black, I sent a coded message to the Don: "Uncle Romano, for the promotion in three days, get me a transfer. As far away from Enzo as possible."

On the night of her wedding anniversary celebration, Emma Taylor caught her husband, Harry Smith, kissing his own assistant. In an instant, her world collapsed before hundreds of guests, her dignity shattered beyond repair. But amid the betrayal, James Walker appeared—Harry’s uncle: cold, stern, and a man who despised infidelity. He became Emma’s strength… and the very reason she found herself drawn into a forbidden feeling. While Harry drowned himself in Sophie’s arms, news of his affair spread like wildfire, dragging the prestigious Smith family name into ruin. Between heartbreak and forbidden love, can Emma find a new path for her life? Or will she once again be consumed by her past? A story of love born from the ashes of destruction.

After the doctor confirmed her pregnancy, the first thing Eliza Lockett did was ask her lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Ms. Lockett, once both parties sign, the marriage will automatically dissolve after the 30-day cooling-off period." Eliza's expression did not change. "Can I sign his name for him?" The lawyer hesitated, then quickly shook his head. "No. He must appear in person." "He agrees to the divorce," she said evenly. "He's just busy with work and can't come. If you don't believe me, I'll call him now and let you hear it yourself." She took out her phone and dialed Alban Sidham. "Alban, there's something I need to talk to you about—" He cut her off before she could finish. His voice was cold and edged with impatience. "Didn't I tell you to handle your own affairs? I don't have time for your trivial matters."

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

At eight months pregnant, I was hit by a car and gave birth early. But unexpectedly, I regained my hearing. Outside the operating room, my husband was talking to the doctor. “Mr. Griffin, the baby is fully developed and stable. A normal delivery should be possible—” Albert Griffin cut him off immediately, “No, induce the labor now! I promised Summer that I would let our child rightfully join the Griffin family. Paulina is almost a month old. If she gets any older, people will figure out the truth. “If this baby doesn’t make it, that’s fine. She can always have another one. But this is the only way she will truly believe that Paulina is her own child.” I closed my eyes tightly and forced myself to stay calm. He thought his lies were perfect, but he was wrong. I heard everything. And if he could lie and pretend, so could I.

"Touch me until I cum so hard that I forget my own name," I gasped, my lips brushing his, trembling beneath the weight of his stare. "You will forget more than that, wife," he rasped, gripping my throat with one hand and sliding the other down my body, "I will make you cum until you forget how to fight your feelings for me." * Elena Thrown into a marriage with the city’s most dangerous mafia king, I had one mission, to seduce him, overwhelm him and make him end it. So, I moaned louder, touched deeper, played the part of a woman consumed by lust, all in hopes he would be repulsed. But Dominic Moretti doesn’t fall for games. He plays them better. Colder, rougher and unrelenting. Every fake moan becomes real. Every forced kiss turns savage. And every time I think that I have the upper hand, he flips me over and makes me forget I ever wanted to get out of this marriage. He doesn’t believe in love. I don’t believe in staying. But when lust ignites war and pleasure starts to hurt in all the right ways, it’s no longer about breaking the marriage, it’s about surviving it. One of us will break. One of us will beg. But we will be both drenched in each other's lust before it’s all over.

"Qubool hai(I accept)," I said with great difficulty and a lone tear escaped from my eyes. I looked at my husband and found him smiling at me. His smile was so mysterious and unusual which created a shiver in my whole system. At the time of Rukhsati(sending off the bride), my mother requested to my husband," Please, take care of her." " Don't worry. I will love her and take care of her so much that she will forget her own family," He replied chuckling but I felt something fishy in his voice. Will he really love me and take care of me the way he is promising to my mother? Erina was just a 22-year-old girl when she was forcefully married to a stranger. She is doubtful about this stranger's intention behind marrying her. Will she ever come to know about her stranger husband's intention?