Why Did My Husband Demand His Widowed Sister-In-Law As Second Wife?

"Do not dare to act like my wife..."He grabbed her forearm and hushed dangerously into her ear. Cold shiver ran through her veins as she closed her eyes to let the forming tears cascade down her eyes. "But..I am your wife."she stuttered. "Yeah a wife who took her sister's place to dig on my money, Rain Anderson."He jerked her with such force that she stumbled and fell on the sofa behind her. She squeezed shut her eyes and let the remaining moisture release her eye sockets. She had suffered his insults and abuses for long two years for a promise which she gave to her parents and sake of the holy vows she took with him but finally her last string of patience broke. She couldn't let him play with her self respect. She wiped her tear stricken face and stood up to match his level.It was the time when she must face him to save their marriage and give him a taste of his own medicine if she wanted to get her love and self respect back. "Its Mrs. Rain Blackwood,Mr. Nicholas Blackwood now whose bitch of a sister and your fiancee ran away on the day of your marriage with her boyfriend and I had to take her place to save our families' reputation.So, better you keept it in your mind before judging my character. "She breathed out and left her husband, Nicholas Blackwood in complete shock. He stood there like a stone statue as it was the first time she rose against his tortures.

After five years of marriage, I received a wedding invitation from abroad. The groom is my husband, Arnold Willowstream. The bride is my younger sister, Yasmine Cooper. In disbelief, I decide to fly to Ainland and witness the wedding for myself. But the moment I see Arnold holding Yasmine and kissing her deeply, my heart shatters completely. Fireworks explode in the sky, and glowing words appear above—"Happy Marriage, Mr. Willowstream and Ms. Yasmine." In that instant, it feels like a blade piercing straight through my chest. Watching them look so happy together, I feel like I'm the one intruding on someone else's marriage. Love is a game for two—there's no room for a third. If he's already gotten married to someone else, what place do I have left in his life? Rather than waiting to be pushed out, I choose to walk away on my own and at least keep the last shred of dignity.

My husband, Commander Jonathan Shelby, was leaving for the military. During his farewell dinner, our neighbor, Mrs. Murphy spoke with glee, as if she was gloating at somebody else’s misfortune. “You’re truly a magnanimous woman. Commander Shelby gave his military spouse quota to Anna instead of you, and you’re still sending him off!” I found her statement ridiculous. “Impossible. My husband hates pulling strings. In the past, he also had a quota on hand. Instead of giving it to me, he gave it to an educated young man so that he could return to his city.” Mrs. Murphy only grew more animated. “I saw the approval report with my own eyes. Under the column of Commander Shelby’s family member, the name ‘Anna Stewart’ was written on it. “Commander Shelby has been supporting two households for a long time. Weren’t you aware of it?” I felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck me. I turned to look at my parents and Jonathan. Guilt was written all over their faces. My parents took my hand. “Anna is a widow. Being a widow alone has already spoiled her reputation. If she remains in the village, they’d judge her for the rest of her life. “Nancy, you’re Jonathan’s legal wife. You need to help her out.” At that moment, my heart ached as if someone had sliced it piece by piece. Fine. I would be as magnanimous as they wanted me to be. I would personally give Jonathan to his widowed sister-in-law.

After Calvin’s older brother passed away, he devoted himself to taking care of his brother’s wife and daughter. He justified it by saying that ‘family should look out for each other.’ To others, the three of them looked just like a close, happy family. When my mother was on her deathbed, he was busy comforting his sister-in-law, who had been brought to tears by her own son. I knelt on the floor, crying and begging him, “My mom is dying. Please, just visit her one last time, I am begging you!” However, Calvin’s voice was ice-cold as he snapped back, “Tell your mom to die later! I am busy!” I waited for two whole hours, and in the end, my mother never got to see her son-in-law one last time. Broken and exhausted, I finally asked for a divorce. “Why don’t the three of you just stay together and enjoy your happy little family.”

On our wedding night, my husband Grayson's sister-in-law, Scarlette, stumbled drunkenly into our bridal suite and threw her arms around him, refusing to let go. "Kayla, my husband died young, and I really just want a child. Please, lend him to me for one night," she cried through her tears, shoving a toy into my hand. "I promise I'll return him tomorrow. And if you get lonely… you can use this to comfort yourself." I stood there, dumbfounded, my gaze shifting in confusion to Grayson, who was already helping Scarlette steady herself. "You're really going to sleep with her?" He avoided my eyes, his tone strangely urgent. "Don't overthink it. She's drunk and talking nonsense. I'll take her back to her room to rest." As he started to leave with her, I stepped in front of them, blocking their way. "Grayson, it's our wedding night tonight. Are you seriously going to walk out with her?" His expression darkened as he pushed me aside. "You're my wife now—try to be more sensible. Don't get jealous over something so trivial." Then, carefully, he guided her out of the room. I wanted to run after him and stop them, but when I saw the deep concern in his eyes as he looked at her, the truth finally hit me. The love this man had for me was no longer mine alone. And if that was the case, why should I cling to a marriage that had already soured? I might as well walk away with my head held high.

On the day of the funeral, Marcus asked me to share him with his sisters-in-law. The moment the news broke, Selena, the eldest brother's wife, hurled her wine glass to the floor. Vivian, the second brother's wife, raised her voice and tore into Marcus for having no sense of decency. But the Hartley family's men dropped to their knees, begging the two widows to become Marcus’s mistresses, to carry on the bloodline in honor of their fallen husbands. I stood off to the side watching, and something in me snapped. I shoved through the crowd, slammed my hands on the long table, and demanded to know exactly what Marcus thought I was to him. I called him no better than a thug. Then I turned on the two sisters-in-law, called them frauds in widow's clothing, and by the end I'd said something unforgivable to just about everyone in that room. After that, I couldn't let it go. I hired a lawyer and sued them for fraud, for a staged marriage. They turned it around on me and said I was plotting to swallow the entire Hartley estate and drive what was left of the family into the ground. My father's business was sabotaged again and again. Three key shipping routes went dark. The dockyard was seized. I was thrown out of the estate and died in a damp basement in Sicily, with no doctor and no family. The landlord found me when he came to collect rent. I only learned the truth after I died. They'd been working together all along. His public reveal of the mistress was merely meant to drive me to snap, giving him a valid excuse to end our marriage. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in that living room, on that same day. The portraits of the two brothers sat on the long table. Selena stood in a black dress, eyes rimmed red. "Marcus, your brother's body is barely cold, and you want us to be your mistresses?" Vivian wore a pale blouse, her voice trembling. "I'd sooner die than betray your brother." This time around, I was going to give them exactly what they asked for.