Being His Unwanted Wife Novels & Stories

"Go take care of your pregnant girlfriend. I'm sure she needs you more than your almost-ex-wife." "It's not what you think." He reached for me, but I jerked away. "Isn't it?" Anger gave me strength to push myself up, using the wall for support. "Get out." My voice shook. "Get out and take her with you. I don't want either of you in my life anymore." "Would you just listen?" Frustration edged into his tone. "To what? More lies?" The world tilted dangerously, but rage kept me upright. "The great Kyle Branson, always three steps ahead. Well congratulations – you got everything you wanted. An heir with the woman you actually love."

“Trust me, I'm sure everyone knows that I'm Damon the great Kingsley's wife” “Hmm”, he seemed satisfied with my answer “So, how long is Harry going to be my bodyguard?” “Until I find someone suitable for that position” “Suitable?” “Yep”, he said popping the 'p'. “I'm actually looking for a kind of bodyguard who's really not interested in women” “So that he won't be interested in me in other words” “Exactly”, he grinned and I laughed. “Not that there is nothing wrong with you. You're a beautiful and an attractive woman, and you're also my wife and I don't like sharing”, I laughed out loud at his words.

“I’m his wife. Mother of his two kids.” The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. For a moment, everything went silent except for the low hum of the TV. My chest tightened painfully. “His… wife?” I whispered, looking at Richard. “You’re married?” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. The woman his wife stepped closer, her expression twisting into disgust. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you didn’t know. You think a man like him doesn’t have a family? The late nights, the ‘business trips’… you really thought you were special?”

“You’re joking.” “I wish I was.” “Okay,” he said slowly, one hand drumming the steering wheel. “You’re going to have to unpack that, because I’m lost.” I leaned back in my seat, exhaling. “It’s complicated. Brayden, my husband, married us both. Long story short, it wasn’t my choice. His mother had her claws in everything, and when he was in a coma, she convinced him that Alessia was his only wife. When he woke up, he didn’t remember me. Or us.”

I stated and glanced at her. “And?” she asked and I smiled at her. “And he met a wonderful girl before immediately married her. He was scared she will leave him and got her tied to himself because he wanted her forever. More than that he was scared of losing her like everyone else. Everything was fine again and his father already passed away way before and even his wife got pregnant. But then started a whole game of flowers, incidents and photos which pointed out of that wife having an affair along with his mom’s words. The past contempt showed it’s face that everyone does everything for money and didn’t want to be in the place of his mother. So, he threw that person out. But then tried to f

He chuckled as he stared at me without emotion, his eyes running across my body with nothing but cool disinterest, “I don’t want you to think that being my unwanted wife is going to be easy on you. If you get everything you want and I get nothing, then where is the justice in that, hmm?” I stayed quiet, knowing that he wanted to punish me for the unfairness of the situation that he found himself in. I couldn’t blame him really. It was because of my fucking step-sister that he was ever put in this position in the first place, and now, as the thing closest to her that he could get his hands on, I was sure that his anger at her would be taken out on me.

She wasn't just an unwanted wife. She was a witness to a monster.

He lifted a shoulder nonchalantly, "Grace will never be my wife. I needed some time to figure out a way to get out of this marriage without starting a war." I swallowed, not understanding what he wanted to do. "But I thought she was perfect. I thought... you wanted her to be your wife." "I don't want a submissive, mob wife. I think I like disrespectful spoiled little brats more." "I don't understand..." I whispered but the words got muffled into my mouth as he pressed his lips to mine. I stiffened at first but then his hands went to my waist in an instant. I slipped my hand around his neck and pulled him down to my height.

My tormentor. "Why aren't you ready for me?" His voice cut through the darkness, sharp as a blade. His hands gripped my hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. "How often do I have to tell you about the rules?" "I'm sorry," I whispered, my throat tight. "I was sick again today, and work was—" "Excuses." He ripped away my underwear, the fabric tearing. "You smell like a kitchen maid. Disgusting." I bit my lip until I tasted blood, fighting back tears. Three years. Three years of being his unwanted wife, forced on him by his grandfather's deal. The old man's words still echoed: "You saved my life, child. Let me give you a good life in return."

I reaffirmed his thoughts. “Do you think I will let you have her? You bastard,” he swore. “You have sold her out multiple times so what is wrong with me having her? Or you suddenly do not want to share because I want her?” “She is my wife!” “I am not disputing the fact, am I?” “Of all the ladies you could get, why my wife?” He muttered. “What do you mean why? Have you seen her?” I spoke louder than the usual. Men like him won’t want something unless someone else desired it— right now his play was not new but manipulating.