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Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Immortal Husband

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 791    |    Released on: Today at 21:34

e Goodw

d punctually in the conference roo

ward, arrogant and smug; Ruby even had her a

lawyer to declare me disinherited and prepared to tak

ed me not to put up a futile struggle, saying

wns, my gaze utterly cold, as if I

dating the will, I unhurriedly pulled from my bag a ma

the marriage certificate onto

d silence. Uncle Arthur's eyes nearly bulged out o

d that I fully met all the conditions stipulated in the will and

roared, accusing me of a sham

rriage, you can go check. But now, take

actly this man named Cyril Sweeney was, and how a

y man. As for my husband, he's a proper commercial airline captain, a hundre

lding in disgrace by security, I felt an unprecedented s

partment to pack. My best friend Dara Or

rriage that her jaw dropped. She worried that I had

nience of a secret marriage brought by his identity as a cargo pilot. Only t

headed alone to the address Cyril had g

Sweene

my clan, thirteen ancient vampire elders and

ss the room. My powerful high-tier coercion mad

ne and only mistress of the Polaris Clan.

eveal any supernatural power in front of Joseline, a

y an ordinary civil aviation carg

ering: "How are you going to hide your hundreds of billions in offshore trusts

. Evertt was so frightened that he immediately d

e mortals for me," I ordered. "Anyone who frightens her, or lets those old lunatics

ress's uncle is hiring a private investigator to try to di

Polaris Air Cargo Group airtight. As for that private investigator, let him have

the Frostfir Forest outside the window, knowing

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Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Immortal Husband
Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Immortal Husband
“I entered a contractual marriage with Cyril Sweeney just to protect my antique restoration studio from local developers. I thought he was merely an eccentric, wealthy cargo pilot, but I soon realized I had married a monster. His skin was colder than ice, he could throw a grown man across a room effortlessly, and strangers in tailored suits dropped to their knees calling him "My Lord." But the most agonizing part was his violent rejection of me. Whenever I got close, or accidentally scraped my skin and bled, he would shove me away like I was a plague. His glacial eyes would turn pitch black, his throat convulsing as if fighting a demon. "Run before I kill you!" He roared at me with a feral, terrifying rasp, his hands clawing at his own throat. The final straw came when I found an antique pocket watch on his desk, holding a faded photograph of a young girl. I realized I wasn't a wife; I was just a convenient, nameless replacement for a ghost he still carried over his dead heart. I didn't understand why he looked at me with such desperate agony, nor why my blood drove him to the brink of madness. I didn't know the girl in the photograph was actually me from ten years ago. As I slammed my truck into reverse to escape his haunted glass villa, I had no idea the real nightmare was just beginning.”