Her Mysterious CEO Husband

"John... who do you like more, me or your fiancée?" In the bedroom, the woman's voice was so sweet it gave Isabella goosebumps.

Isabella Taylor had received a text from her fiancé John Williams, asking her to come to their soon-to-be marital home. He said it was urgent.

She had taken time off work and hurried to the house.

To her shock, when she opened the door with her key, she heard this seductive female voice coming from the bedroom.

"Of course it's you... my darling..." John panted between ragged breaths. "Isabella is just... a cold fish... She can't compare... to you... baby..."

The bedroom filled with intimate sounds and heavy breathing. Though Isabella was inexperienced herself, she knew exactly what was happening behind that door. Each sound felt like a knife twisting in her heart, the pain so sharp it nearly took her breath away.

She could never have imagined that the man about to marry her would be with another woman in their marital home, on the wedding bed she had personally prepared.

They were so desperate they hadn't even closed the bedroom door.

John stood there, completely naked, his muscled body glistening with sweat as he gripped the woman's thighs. Her legs were spread high in the air, her wild moans echoing through the room with each powerful thrust of his hips.

Beneath their bodies, the bed sheets were completely disheveled and crumpled from their frenzied activity.

Isabella felt bile rising in her throat. The house—she had renovated it. The bed—she had bought it. The bedding—she had just replaced it new. Now all of it was defiled.

She wanted none of it anymore. Not the house, not the bed, and certainly not John.

Isabella pushed the door open and calmly looked at the two people in front of her.

"Oh, you're here!" The woman on the bed was the first to notice her and even greeted her.

John turned around at the sound. Seeing Isabella, he scrambled off the woman, wrapped himself in a sheet, and ran over to grab Isabella's hand. "Isabella, let me explain."

Thinking about how those hands had just been on another woman, Isabella felt disgusted and pulled her hand away forcefully. "Don't touch me. I find you disgusting."

"Isabella, it wasn't my fault. She seduced me..." John tried to explain.

The woman on the bed sneered, her eyes full of disdain.

Compared to John's embarrassment, the woman was calm and unhurried. She didn't even bother to put on clothes, just draped a blanket over herself and leaned against the headboard, watching the drama unfold.

Isabella suddenly felt that all of this was meaningless and didn't want to entangle with John any longer. "John, we're breaking up. I'm not marrying you."

"Isabella, you dare? Aren't you afraid of your grandma..." John was sure Isabella wouldn't dare.

Isabella indeed didn't dare. She was getting married for Ella, who was in the late stages of cancer and whose only wish was to see her get married.

John continued, "Isabella, I'm a man—I have needs. If you'd been more... willing, I wouldn't have had to look elsewhere!"

Isabella let out a bitter laugh. "So now it's my fault?"

"Come on, it's just physical. Every guy does it," John said with a smirk.

Looking at John's shameless smile, Isabella felt utterly disappointed. She raised her hand and slapped him across the face.

"What the hell, Isabella?! How dare you hit me?" John looked at her in disbelief. "Well, wedding's off. See how you explain this to your precious grandma."

"If you won't marry her, I will!" A tall, slender man walked in from outside.

The man pointed at the woman on the bed and said to Isabella, "Let me introduce myself. I'm her boyfriend, oh, now ex-boyfriend."

Then he shook hands with Isabella and said, "Hello, I'm another victim."

John rushed forward, roughly pushing the man away and sternly reprimanding, "Take your hands off her. Don't touch my fiancée."

"Yours? I thought you just said you weren't marrying her? Well, as it happens, I need a wife."

With a casual shove, he sent John tumbling to the ground.

The man bent down slightly and said softly to Isabella, "Miss Taylor, if you don't mind, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Before Isabella could respond, he wrapped his arm around her and led her away decisively, completely ignoring John's angry shouts behind them.

Isabella thought he was just putting on a show to spite John and his ex-girlfriend. Little did she know, he was dead serious, taking her directly to the City Hall.

Isabella did the craziest thing she had ever done in her life: she married a man she had just met.

Because she had no other choice, the wedding had to go on.

She couldn't let her grandmother worry. She also couldn't force herself to continue the wedding with John. The thought of John's betrayal made her feel as if she had swallowed a fly.

Isabella learned that his name was Michael Johnson.

After leaving City Hall, Michael kept both marriage certificates. Though Isabella found it odd that he took her copy too, she didn't question it, given their unusual circumstances and brief acquaintance.

Michael offered to drive Isabella back. After a moment's consideration, she directed him to the hotel where she had been staying for her wedding.

During the ride, he assured her not to worry about the wedding arrangements—he would handle everything to ensure she had the perfect ceremony.

Thinking about John's betrayal and threats, and comparing them to Michael's gentlemanly behavior, Isabella felt a surge of boldness.

Before she could stop herself, she stammered, "Th-thank you... I really do need a wedding... Would you like to... come up for a while... we could..."

Her voice trailed off as she blushed deeply, head bowed in embarrassment. She wished she could take back her words and couldn't bring herself to look at him, missing the flash of delight that crossed his eyes.

"Yes," he responded in a deep, quiet voice.

Silently, he followed her out of the car and up to her room, walking a step behind her the whole way.