How To Be The Perfect Wife According To Experts?

I spent years being the perfect wife—patient, loyal, invisible. I built a home, raised a child, and loved a man who slowly stopped choosing me. When betrayal became routine and silence was expected, I realized my sacrifice meant nothing to them. Walking away wasn’t an act of revenge. It was survival. This is the story of a woman who gave everything to her family—until she finally chose herself

Love For The Wicked Book Three. In my eyes, the world is a huge sandbox created for the big boys. Girls, money, business… and I always strive to come out on top until my father gave me an ultimatum. I needed to find a wife, or I’d lose my rights to the family business. I found the perfect woman for the scheme I devised, of course. She was beautiful, feisty, the picture-perfect wife to make my father believe I was done playing games. In return, she needed a favor, the kind that takes nine months to deliver. The rules were laid out meticulously, from the no touching to fake falling in love. After a year, we would part ways amicably with no hassle, no demands, and no regrets; after all, it was all just a game. As my plan took its course, it dawned on me that playing house was a game I never should have played. She started to grow on me, from that sexy little pout to the late nightcap, the endless dirty banter, and even the fights we had. I realize I enjoyed having her around. Trouble is, how will I make her believe I am not playing games anymore? That I don’t want her to be just my contract wife, that I don’t want twelve months with her but more?

"If you won't satisfy me, then don't try to stop me from getting pleasure elsewhere," he said icily, turning to leave. "Will you stop seeing other women if I do it?" She asked sheepishly, facepalming in shyness. She couldn't believe she was considering it. "That will depend on how good your performance is," the ice melted from his eyes and all around him. When Abigail finds herself in an arranged marriage to save her father and revenge on her stepmother and sisters, she was never prepared to fall in love with a jerk like President Tony - the multi-time billionaire CEO of the Wrights Empire, and a playboy, who thought that no woman had the five or maybe six qualities he wanted in an ideal wife. Whereas, Abigail was determined to bring him graciously on his knees, till the only woman he'd ever want would be her, and her alone.

"Holy crap, you are so boring!" He pushed her against the wall, placing his hands on either side of her and staring into her eyes in frustration. He is shirtless and has flat abs touching her body, which is giving her goosebumps. "I don't know how to kiss." She looked at the man, pouting her lips. He scoffed at her boring reply. "Teach me how to kiss." She mumbled, licking her lips, and grabbed his attention. He looked down at her and stroked his hair with his fingers, pulling her close by her waist. "Stand on my toes." He smirked, sending chills down her spine. She climbed over, placing both feet on his toes. "Look into my eyes." He grabbed her chin and make her look into his eyes. She looked into his green-pricing eyes, rolling her fingers on his trimmed beard. "Concentrate on my lips." He synced, licking his lips. Her heart skipped a beat as he pressed her thin lips between his thumbs. And she moaned in response, rolling her eyes at his lips. "Seal your lips on mine and chew it up like an ice cream." He explained the first step, bending his head to seal her lips. "Aaaachuuuuu!!" She sneezed loudly before he sealed her lips. "ANGELINA." He yelled at the top of his lungs. "I’m sorry, hubby." Angelina closed her eyes, covering them with both hands. Angelina is a twenty-year-old college student with lots of goals in life, but she doesn't have parents to give her pocket money and support her financially. But one day, she married a billionaire and then her tragic life turned into a romantic one. Now the question is - how will Angelina satisfy her husband and his desires when she has only experienced struggles in her past life?

Everyone calls him the perfect husband. Successful. Devoted. The kind of man who remembers anniversaries brings flowers “just because,” and makes the world believe love can still be pure. He smiles the way heroes do. He listens the way good men should. He protects his wife like she’s his entire universe. But perfection is a story he tells so beautifully… No one ever questions who wrote it.When whispers start slipping through the cracks, it becomes harder to ignore the truth lingering beneath his polished surface.What if he’s the most dangerous lie of all? "It's not revenge ,it's the circle of life..." Get ready to dive into a thrilling world of suspense, love, and danger in The Perfect Husband. warning ⚠️ This is not a healthy love story. It deals with manipulation, control, and mind games that blur the line between devotion and danger. If stories about psychological abuse are triggering, this book may not be for you.

The night my husband came home from another flight smelling of another woman's perfume, one question was taking over social media. "Where have all the homemaker over forty-seven gone? "If life as a homemaker is so wonderful, why doesn't anyone ever speak up about it?" My husband, an international airline captain with over a million followers, signed us up for a livestream. He wanted me to prove that homemaker hadn't vanished. According to him, they were simply loved, protected, and cherished by their husbands. He was certain I'd play along. After all, for 22 years, I'd been the perfect wife. Even when my swollen joints hurt so much I could barely hold a spatula, I still washed his uniforms and made sure dinner was waiting when he got home. Even when he walked through the door carrying another woman's perfume, I would only touch my wedding ring and tell myself the same lie. "He's just having a little fun. In the end, he'll always come back to me." On the day of the livestream, he smiled at the camera and told everyone how happy our marriage was. I was in the kitchen baking, carrying dish after dish to the table. Then the host asked me one simple question. "Would you want your daughter to grow up to be the homemaker as you?" My husband smiled and typed his answer onto the teleprompter for me to read. "Of course." I walked into the frame with the last dish in my hands. I looked straight into the camera. "No," I said. "I wouldn't."