Breaking Bad with my Cold and Arrogant Husband — Novel

About

In a world where love once thrived, Arianne finds herself at a crossroads, facing the wreckage left by her husband Zach’s betrayal. A viral video has shattered their fragile existence, exposing the truth behind his cold facade and the warmth he once promised her. With their son, Liam, bearing witness to the fallout, Arianne must navigate the treacherous waters of heartbreak and betrayal. Can she reclaim her voice, or will the silence of their crumbling marriage swallow her whole?

As Zach's arrogance clashes with Arianne's newfound resolve, the stakes rise. Each encounter is a delicate dance between anger and longing, revealing the layers of love that once bound them. Arianne’s journey unfolds amid whispered judgments from neighbors and the haunting memories of happier days. Will she find the strength to break free from the ties that bind her to a man who has become a stranger?

With every page, the tension thickens as Arianne uncovers secrets that threaten to unravel everything she thought she knew. In a battle for redemption and self-discovery, can she redefine her identity and emerge from the ashes of her marriage? The answers lie just beyond the horizon.

Breaking Bad with my Cold and Arrogant HusbandChapter 1: Our Love is Out of Tune

A viral clip.

A successful man.

A concert crowd.

And one very public moment of betrayal.

I heard his car before I saw him—engine too desperate, like it was trying to outrun the damage already done. I didn’t move from the couch. I sat there, spine straight, heart hollow, folding Liam’s blanket over and over in my lap like it could stop my hands from shaking. The door creaked open, revealing him.

“Arianne,” Zach said, breathless. He closed the door behind him like this was still his home.

I looked up slowly, meeting his eyes. My husband. In the flesh. Still wearing the shirt from the night before—creased and tainted by the ghost of another woman’s perfume. His assistant. His alibi. His filthy mistress.

“You lied,” I said.

He flinched at how even my voice was. He probably expected fire. Instead, he got ice.

“Please, let me explain,” he said, stepping forward.

I held up a hand, stopping him at once. “Explain what? That you weren’t in Maldives? That the camera angle was misleading? That the arm around her wasn’t yours? Or that you somehow tripped and landed in her embrace while the crowd cheered?”