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.