My Husband, Treat Me Well

My Husband, Treat Me Well

Greatwrites

5.0
Comment(s)
365
View
10
Chapters

Damien couldn't help himself when a beautiful woman, drugged by her boyfriend, came into the hotel, kissed him and took off her clothes. They both had a one night stand, but this lady, Zara, didn't let it go, she wanted revenge, she wanted to use Damien like he'd used her, and being married to him would help her get revenge on him. "As long as I live, I'm his lawful wife, while all of you're only his mistresses," she said, even when he was involved in scandals with other women, and finally left him when she learned that he'd cheated on her again. But life brought her back to him a few years later, to his amazement. The man had already gotten what he wanted from her, but she couldn't understand why he still wanted to torment and pursue her.

Chapter 1 One Night Stand

The 22nd birthday party of the five-star hotel in New York was coming to an end. Damien's steps were a little messy, and his face was even redder than before, like blush, when the elevator was in the 8th floor. Victoria held Damien's hand and squeezed it tightly, she couldn't let Damien get into Reagan's bed. She'd thought about it and made this decision.

She led Damien to the innermost part of the corridor to the last room, where the waiter had just brought the food and hadn't yet closed the door.

"Hello, that man in there's my friend. I'll go in and you don't have to lock the door." said Victoria. The waiter didn't doubt that she knew the man and drove the food cart away.

Victoria came along the doorway and saw a tall figure in the room wearing the hotel's nightgown. It looked as if the person had just taken a bath. Suddenly Damien pulled her out of the door crack with a jerk and quickly closed the door.

Victoria raised her head and glanced at the camera. Fortunately, the room they were in is in a dead corner. The camera can't take pictures. After thirty minutes, she left the room, pulled her long wavy hair aside and went to another suite as if nothing had happened.

When Damien came out of the room, he turned around and saw a woman. She was shivering and had cold eyes, but the discomfort didn't make her think much. She rose from the floor and staggered to the man. She needed something badly now. She didn't know what she needed.

"Get out of here!" Damien yelled at her.

When the distance between them was less than ten feet, he saw the woman's face clearly. Her long black hair had been combed by professional stylists into beautiful and intricate long braids, elegant and classy. The white dress she wore showed off all her assets, a beautiful butterfly clavicle, plump to a good figure. The bottom of the dress ran in a curve from top to bottom, and her long white legs stood out on the right side. The corners of her skirt were decorated with shiny small diamonds. She wore 8 cm high red stiletto sandals, and he could see that she was a cheerful, open and sincere lady.

He was still staring at her without giving another command when she was carried away by two men. Damien saw her narrow face with abnormal blush and couldn't help but smile at the crazy lady. Then he asked her to leave and walked towards her.

"I feel a little sick. Can I've some cold water?" said Zara, struggling with the high-heeled shoes on her right foot, which she'd have preferred to throw away.

Finally, she put her right arm on Damien's neck and gently moved her left hand. The high-heeled shoe was successfully thrown off by her. Her faint perfume smelled like the fragrance of medium white lotus and small lily of the valley; like an internationally known brand delight. All over her body, she looked so gorgeous and noble.

Without hesitation, she put her slender wrist around Damien's neck and walked to the door. However, her legs were so soft that she couldn't support her body. Then she knelt down on the white carpet while holding Damien's hand.

Zara, the woman holding Damien's hand, had no patience. She vigorously shook off her hand, ready to call the hotel's front desk. She held onto him to get up and gently wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

"I'm not feeling well. Help me." Zara's soft, pleading voice had a special flavor in the dark night.

She picked up the microphone on the wall and spoke with it before shoving it into his hand. Damien looked at her with a sharp look, "Did someone send you here? Who told you I arrived in New York today and who're you?"

But before he could finish his words, the woman sought access to his mouth. After finishing the kiss, she said, "You must save me quickly."

Damian suppressed his reaction, grinned and pushed the woman off him without hesitation. Now, he admitted to himself, the crazy woman was charming. She'd kissed him and he couldn't help but return the kiss.

"Get out!" Damian yelled at her again.

Zara staggered back a few steps to stand safely, she couldn't hear what he was saying, she only knew that the man's emotionally thin lips were opening softly. Without hesitation, she pulled down the zipper of her dress and her dress fell to the carpet.

At the sight of the sexy body in front of him, Damien's eyes grew deeper. Although Zara's head wasn't clear, she was so horny. She walked up to him and took off her bra and pants. Without thinking, Damien pulled her into the room he was in earlier and pounced on her like a hungry wolf.

***

The sun was shining brightly, the air conditioning in the room was too strong, which woke up Zara, who was fast asleep. She carefully opened her eyes and looked around her surroundings. Why do I've a pain, she thought.

She sat up and was shocked when she saw the marks on her body, because as an adult she certainly knew what had happened to her.

She thought: How could this happen? Who's this man? Damn it! Why can't I remember?

Zara sat on the big bed in a daze and wanted to cry, but this wasn't the time to cry. She got out of bed, her legs were still soft, and it was hard to go to the window and open the curtain yet.

The sun was blinding outside. It was already afternoon. Looking at the scenery outside the window, she knew she was still in the Peninsula Hotel. The scenery outside the window was very beautiful. The breeze was blowing gently, and the wind with the fragrance of flowers was brushing the curtain. The pink curtain fluttered and fluttered. It was a bit of an aesthetic feeling, but now she wasn't in the mood to enjoy it.

Zara's thoughts were jumbled. She rubbed her aching eyebrows and sighed softly. Things had come to this, and there was no point in saying anything.

There were two exquisite boxes on the nightstand in the room, and a white chiffon dress was open. She was ready to take a bath and quickly get out of here.

It was a little difficult to enter the bathroom. There were several expensive men's toiletries in the bathroom. She knew it belonged to the man who'd slept with her last night.

Zara shook her head and filled the bathtub with water to relax. As she filled the tub, she remembered last night's crazy night and muttered to herself, "Who was that man last night?"

Continue Reading

Other books by Greatwrites

More

You'll also like

The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle

The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle

C.D
5.0

I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me. Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years. The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought. I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction. With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun.

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

Alma
5.0

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Temple Madison
4.5

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book