Carson Rowland Wife Novels & Stories

***** The Lotus Garden's private dining room looked like a P*******t board come to life—all white orchids, crystal chandeliers, and women who'd never broken a sweat that wasn't scheduled with a personal trainer. Twelve wives sat around a table that could seat twenty. I recognized most from previous events: Margaret Vale, whose husband ran Cross Holdings' real estate division; Caroline Ashford, married to the CFO, In my head I call her the woman with a perfectly frozen forehead; Victoria , the COO's wife who'd warned me at the Hamptons about performing my own marriage. Patricia had dressed me in a cream Chanel dress that cost a good amount of dollars. "Mara, darling!" Margaret waved me over,

He let go of her hand like it was disgusting, she stumbled backwards but Alex caught her to stabilise her. David Carlson scanned his surrogate, "are you hurt?" She shook her head a little. "Mr Carlson, how can you support this terrible woman?" Emery was astonished. "Yes, who is this woman to you?! Everyone has been asking!" A reporter yelled back. "She is my wife," David Carlson informed the public immediately.

She comments. I roll my eyes. “A career he can never find out about.” I remind her. “Come on you’ve got so many good qualities I’m sure David has fallen for you charm…” I give her a blank stare. “You do know that we haven’t been together long enough for him to fall for anything. He hasn’t spent time with me alone. Most of it is spent with Kira being with us.” I tell her. “Come on. He wants to sleep with you and now he’s going to use the excuse of wanting to give more children for Kira. This is the second child; you always have to try harder for this one…” Carla comments.

They've kept their relationship a secret, and what's happening on the current scene is the most exciting part of the drama. "Are you out of your mind, Jake? Just replace me with our cheap wedding coordinator?" Patricia laughed at me while looking at me from head to toe, as if she was judging my character based on what she sees on the outside. "You're really kidding me, aren't you? It's not true, Jake… is it? I'm still me. The marriage is still going on-" "Stop it, Patricia," Jake tried to draw his voice with authority and loud, but it only came as a croak. "Ours is already done. I'm tired of waiting for you to show interest in taking care of our wedding. But what have you repeatedly made me

Carissa pushed his hand away and walked over to me. "I can explain, Rose!" "Oh?" I snickered, though tears were already pooling in my eyes. "What are you going to tell me? That the husband you've been secretly married to for three years isn't him? Or that the child you carried for nine months and gave birth to isn't his?" Her silence was her confession, and in that instant, the truth laid itself bare. No wonder she had never introduced us. No wonder there was always that unreadable emotion in her eyes whenever I brought up her husband.

My presence at the sip-and-see event sucked the life out of the party. My indifferent gaze fell on Krystal Markham. “Krystal, care to explain about today?” Krystal and I were a success story, the high school sweethearts who made it all the way to the altar. However, over the last two years, I felt her slipping further and further away. I brushed it off as the spark simply fading over time. Never in a million years did I expect her to cheat on me and have children with another man through surrogacy

"Ramona has been my rock through it all. She never complained, never demanded. She just loved me, quietly and steadily. And I'll spend the rest of my life giving her everything she deserves." The crowd erupted in applause. Then, chaos broke out. A woman burst through the crowd. Unwashed. Ragged. Wild-eyed. She shoved her face in front of the cameras, screaming for everyone to hear, "Cole is my ex-husband! And Ramona is my best friend! She stole my man!" We were on live television. Millions were watching. But before anyone could react, one of my assistants stepped in and calmly escorted her offstage. "Apologies, everyone," my assistant said smoothly into the microphone. "She's unwell. A bit d

I never break my rules. Not for money. Not for loyalty. And certainly not for anyone else’s wife. Yet here I was, standing in a room where power whispered from every corner. The polished mahogany tables gleamed under soft chandeliers, men in tailored suits whispered deals, and yet all I could see was her. Selene Hawthorne moved through the crowd like a storm contained within elegance — untouchable, graceful, and utterly oblivious to the chaos she’d already sown inside me.

"Please, have a seat." She sat down, her expression a mixture of curiosity and caution. "Now, tell me a bit about yourself," I said, my tone light and friendly. "I'd like to know more about the woman who's going to be playing the role of my wife." She cleared her throat, "I'm not like those fancy girls on I*******m who can snap their fingers and get what they want," she said, her voice strong and confident. "I don't come from a wealthy background. My name is Selena Gardner, as I said before. My sister and my grandmother are the only family I have."