The Imposter Bride (Natalia and Magnus) novel Chapter 207

"Passengers flying to United Kingdom, please note that your flight is about to take off shortly. Please carry your ID and ticket with you and head to the check-in gate."

The sweet voice of the airport cabin crew echoed through the airport intercom. Callum gently nudged Natalia. "Buttercup, let's get going."

"Uh-huh," Natalia murmured, nodding her head as she followed Callum towards the check-in counter.

Just then, a tall man emerged from the exit opposite them. His face looked stiff, and his complexion was worn. A man in a suit trailed behind him. Passing by the check-in counter, he glanced at Natalia, who was about to check in and froze. He took in her lavender Italian maxi dress and white trench coat.

The moment she turned around to pull her luggage, he felt as if he was struck by lightning. "My wife!"

Impossible. He closed his eyes. His wife had been dead for five years. How could it be her?

But when he opened them again, the figure in the lavender dress was there, with her back to him. That shape was etched into his marrow for the past five years, and he couldn't be mistaken.

"My wife! My wife!" His voice was hoarse and filled with emotion.

Natalia had barely taken two steps when she heard the urgent calls from behind her. The voice was somewhat strange, yet vaguely familiar. Natalia continued walking, not slowing her pace.

Wife? The man couldn't be calling her, could he? She wasn't even married. She wasn't anyone's "Wife," so he couldn't possibly be calling her.

Before she could take another step, the man from behind rushed over, grabbing her slender wrist. "My wife! Is it really you? Am I dreaming?"

The man's voice was deep and filled with pain. Natalia turned and saw the man holding her. His eyes were bloodshot, and his handsome face looked haggard, but his eyes were fervent, hopeful, and pained.

Who was he? Why didn't she recognize him? And why did her heart ache at the sight of him? His weathered face pricked every nerve in her body.

"Sir, let go..." Natalia began in a soft voice. She didn't know this man, and she certainly didn't understand why he suddenly rushed over, grabbed her, and called her "Wife." Was he some kind of lunatic?

Natalia tried to pull away but found she couldn't break free. Seeing the mixture of joy and confusion in his pain-filled eyes, she turned to Callum for help. "Callum, I..."

Before she could finish, Callum threw a punch, knocking the man who had been holding her to the ground. "Let her go!" Callum shouted.

The man on the ground quickly picked himself up, and when he saw Callum, his heart filled with even more pain, spreading throughout his body. So, Magnus’ wife had been rescued by this British man and was hidden away for five years. He lunged at Callum, grappling with him.

This man was Magnus, who had just returned from a business trip to the U.S.

He looked a bit gaunt. Yes, gaunt. Natalia was sure that he hadn’t always been this size. Even his complexion had changed. It was no longer a healthy flush, but a pallid, tired hue.

Who was he? Why was he calling her his wife? And why did she find him so familiar?