A Wife's Nightmare Plot Summary Novels & Stories

*Satvi Pov* I got up abruptly from the nightmare with sweat covering my entire body. I patted myself hoping to reduce the increased pulse of my heartbeat. Rubbing my face, I looked around to find that I am in some unfamiliar room. Then I remembered my so-called marriage with that mad man. If I am not wearing this black beaded necklace, he put around my neck, I wouldn’t have even felt like I am married. I am getting this stupid nightmare of someone trying to kill me, and that face belongs to my husband.

"You're my wife! Damn it, we're already married. We have kids; their names are Stacey, our eldest, Stella, our second, and Smael, our third born. Argh, I don't know. I don't know what to call that. Maybe it was just a dream, but it feels real. I even saw you burried—" That man. Everything was a dream to him, but I want him to punch him because why even did I die immediately in his stranglehold? He's annoying! But deep inside of me, it's like I'm being tickled. It was a miracle that he dreamed of me. When he woke up, I was really like his wife. When I walked out to him because of the irritation, I heard him screaming. I quickly went out and caught him sleeping again. When he woke up, he told

And being like that was her edge among Samantha. I lay beside her. I kissed her forehead before looking for my comfortable position. I positioned myself facing her. Looking at her made me feel easily and relieved. All I want is to spend the rest of my days beautiful with her along with our little man. I am hoping that Samantha would be locked in prison so that my family would find peace. "Good night, love," I said and kissed the tip of her nose. I quickly fell into a deep sleep after a long day, but it was short-lived. Suddenly, I was jolted awake by a nightmare that felt all too real. In the dream, I saw my dear wife Athara and son Athro being pushed off a cliff by a mysterious woman.

If I was going to walk into a room full of men who thought they owned the world, I was going to look like I could buy the ground they stood on. Then my phone buzzed on the vanity. “The summit begins in forty minutes, Miss Vale. Everyone important is already arriving.” I locked the screen. “I know,” I whispered, tonight was the annual dignitaries business summit, a place where billionaires shook hands and stabbed each other with smiles. A place for deals, influence and power. A place Damien Blackwood would never expect to see me. Not as his ex-wife. Not as the woman he dismissed. Not as the wife he thought he had all figured out.

Anna’s POV --- Morning By morning— The internet is on fire. --- The Headlines Every news platform. Every business blog. Every gossip account. All repeating the same story. > CONTRACT MARRIAGE EXPOSED CEO’S WIFE “HIRED” FOR IMAGE CONTROL ROMANCE OR CORPORATE FRAUD? And somehow— Reading it the second time hurts more than the first. --- The Mansion The dining room feels unusually tense. Not because of Xavier. Because of me. Because every time my phone vibrates, my chest tightens automatically now.

Dale got out of bed and opened the door. The moment the door swung open, Krystal dumped the infants on him. He was so close to dropping them during a moment of fluster. “Ms. Markham, what are you doing? They are your flesh and blood. How could you?” Krystal threw the medical report in his face. “How much longer are you planning on lying to me, jerk?” Dale grabbed the paper for a look. Knowing the jig was up, Dale dropped the act. “Big deal! Maybe you should reflect on yourself, Ms. Markham. Your condition doesn’t allow you to have children. For all we know, you might have let more than your hair down during your younger days, and that’s on you.”

A young husband hurried past the window carrying flowers, laughing as his pregnant wife reached for his hand. The husband kissed his wife's forehead before handing her the flowers. Jessica looked away before she could watch the rest. Rain tapped softly against the glass. She barely noticed. Her colleagues laughed together in the cafeteria behind her. She couldn't bring herself to join them. She had promised herself something that morning. She had promised herself that this morning would be different. She was tired of waiting for answers. Tired of hoping things would change. She told herself the same thing on the drive to work, while changing dressings, and between patients. Yet every quiet m

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.” “I know exactly what I’m saying.” He reached for me, his hand closing around my wrist. “Come here.” I tried to pull away. His grip tightened. “Jason, let go.” “Why?” He pulled me closer. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, thick and sour. “Why won’t you let me touch you? You’re my wife.” “You don’t want to touch me. Go and touch her instead." His eyes narrowed. “Her?” “Your freaking mistress.Get out of my room.”

I asked weakly. “Whatever,” he scoffed. “Now go home like the good lady you are and wait for your husband.” “Husband?” I said quietly. “I don’t have one anymore.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Whatever you make of it,” I hissed and turned away. “Sylvia!” he shouted, grabbing my hand. “Let me go!” I screamed. “Have you lost your mind?” “Let her go!” A commanding voice rang out as someone twisted Greg’s wrist. “Aaah!” Greg screamed.

Wanted to grab his razor from the sink and open the door and— My eyes fixed on the razor. Silver. Sharp. It would be so easy. One quick motion across his throat. Watch the light leave his eyes the way he'd watched it leave mine. Justice. Revenge. Murder. I stared at the razor, my mind fracturing between what I knew and what I'd dreamed and what I could prove. Because that was the question, wasn't it? Should I kill my husband for something that hadn't happened yet? For something that might have only been a nightmare?