Your Uncle’s My Husband Now Back Off Ex Novels & Stories

The words hit me like a slap. “She’s my fucking ex, Uncle!” The words tore out of me, raw and jagged. “Second-hand goods I already broke in. I can’t even count how many times I’ve had her and how many ways. And you… you don’t find that revolting? Screwing your own nephew’s leftovers?” A collective gasp rolled through the ballroom like a shockwave. Phones rose in slow motion. Flashes detonated sharply and some faces froze in horror. Others… Christ, some looked openly entertained.

Her heart pounded as she opened it, her eyes scanning the words. “I just want to say hi. And please be prepared, because very soon I’ll claim you and my children again. I admit, I chose Gold over a diamond like you, Lia. But just tell your husband, tell him your ex is back. Tell him in a way he’ll understand, like this—DEAR HUSBAND, MY EX IS BACK.”

The suitcase still sits in the foyer, a silent witness to my return. He grabs my arm, his grip firm and bruising, yanking me back. “You’re my fucking wife!” he snarls, his face inches from mine, breath hot with anger. “What do I tell people? My family? The board? That my wife is parading around Norway with my uncle while I’m left dealing with the mess you left behind?” I wrench my arm free, the skin stinging where his fingers dug in, my heart pounding hard against my ribs. The house feels too big, too echoing, the grand foyer suddenly suffocating.

"I'm not going back to Julien." "Don't be stupid," Uncle Bernard said. "You have no choice. He's your husband…" "Ex-husband. The divorce papers are signed. It's over." I looked at him, and saw him for what he was. He was not the benevolent uncle who'd saved me, but a man who'd seen a transaction where there should have been family. "And even if it wasn't over, I wouldn't go back. Not to a man who cheats on me, humiliates me, and hits me."

Donald whispered. Uncle? Anne's heart stopped. Hades looked at Donald with cold eyes. "You're causing a scene. Leave my fiancée alone.”

The thought of Haliyah being with another man, especially Damon, made my anger worse. Damon wasn’t just any man. He was my uncle. Haliyah was my wife. She should have been at my side, not alone with him, hidden away from everyone else. She was mine. That was supposed to keep her from even entertaining the idea of another man, especially not someone from my own bloodline.

"Is that so? And you think it’s acceptable? Having an affair with your husband’s uncle? The scandal alone will bury whatever is left of your pathetic career." I let out a sharp, sassy laugh and lean back, crossing my legs. "Ex-husband, Georgia. Let’s keep our prefixes straight. Accuracy is important in legal matters, or so Owen tells me." I tilt my head, letting my gaze sweep over her. "And as for what’s acceptable... is it acceptable that you’re having an affair with your late husband’s son? I mean, if we’re talking about family trees, yours is looking a little more like a tangled thicket of 'don'ts,' isn’t it?"

I wrapped both arms around my shoulders, shivering against the chill. My mind still couldn't piece together everything that had happened. I tried replaying the events, but they refused to line up properly. Johnson. Running. Duncan. The bond that snapped into place without warning. Duncan. Everyone knew who Duncan was. He hadn't left the pack quietly — he left because of what he did. He was Johnson's uncle. And now, I had been claimed by my ex-husband's uncle. My life could not have gotten worse than this. Then something stirred from deep within me. My wolf. She churned and pressed against my ribs, restless and insistent.

he asked, leaning close. I gave him a mischievous smile as I leaned closer until our lips were almost touching. “I called you Michael, your birth name,” “I'm a decade older than you,” “You don't look like it, and I don't care,” I said in a sultry voice. “I'm your husband's uncle,” he said, taking off his trousers completely. “Oh!” I gasped playfully. “If that's the case, then,your nephew's wife shouldn't be completely naked in front of you. It's forbidden,”

The next time I saw Chase Reed, it was at a little guesthouse in the Rockies. I'd just finished feeding my son breakfast and was wiping his mouth when Chase came out from the kitchen carrying a tray. Our eyes met. I saw his pupils dilate in shock. Three years had passed. His skin was weathered and reddened from the sun, his face covered in stubble, with new lines etched around his eyes from the harsh elements. Then his gaze landed on my son. He froze mid-step, his eyes going wide with disbelief before flooding with joy. He hurried over, his eyes locked on my little boy. "Sweetheart... can you say 'Daddy'?" I lowered my head, turned sideways, and pulled my son protectively into my arms