Choji Wife Novels & Stories

"Well, it's not like I'm going to give up everything. Damian is still working in the royal stables, after all, and ..." "And just because my idiot husband doesn't want to help finance his daughter doesn't mean I won't. I also have control over our finances. I made sure of that before I got officially married. Mark my words, my daughter will never live in poverty while I am still around!" Mrs. Shiji says emphatically. We all smiled at Mrs. Shiji. She's not the sassy, ​​frivolous woman we'd all mistaken her for when she hired Team 7 to find her missing cat many years ago, but apparently, we're not the only ones she fooled.

Edward’s wife was not a woman a man like me should allow into his thoughts. Wanting her wasn’t foolish. It was treason. I excused myself under the pretense of taking a call, murmuring a polite apology as I stepped away from the group. No one questioned it. Men like me were always needed elsewhere, always managing something unseen. I didn’t go far. Instead, I moved closer to her, my steps casual, indirect—perfectly reasonable. The kind of movement no one would question. Our shoulders brushed. It was accidental. It had to be.

Adrian asked me with furrowed brows. "Wait just a minute, are you going to do the cooking?" I asked Adrian, remembering that he was a very good cook while we were married. Given his background, one would easily think that he doesn't know how to cook or how to do any house chores, but that's not the case with him; despite growing up in a very rich family, he knows how to cook and how to do the house chores. That was the reason why we never hired a maid or a cook while we were married.

“Until I stopped letting him steal my money? Until I stopped being convenient?” “You were nothing!” Spittle flew from her mouth. “A pathetic little orphan playing dress-up in a life you didn’t deserve. Adrian was mine! He’s always been mine!” She seemed borderline crazy,as if she were on the verge of losing it. Just how obsessed were they with having control over my life?. A crowd was forming. I recognized people from Vale Company. From other buildings. All watching. Recording. Good. Let them see. “ he was yours?” I said quietly, “Why did he propose to me?”

"Do you remember this picture? We were so poor back then. We asked a passerby to help us take it and used it as our wedding photo." We had truly shared a period of happiness once. But as work became overwhelming, Angela grew increasingly distant and sharp. The wedding ceremony and the wedding photos we had promised to do later were also postponed because we were busy with work. I remembered that this cabinet used to be filled with porcelain and antiques. I was the one who cleaned the dust every day. Now, the cabinet was covered with an array of gifts. Angela asked whether I still remembered them. I smiled but didn't answer.

"See? This is us. Our wedding day. Look at the photo!" Alena hesitated, her eyes darting to the picture. For a fleeting moment, her expression softened. Then she pointed at the photo and said, "Your wife has black hair. Look at me. I’m blonde. I understand you’re grieving, but I am not her." She turned her gaze back to him, now filled with pity. "Please let me go." Stephen refused to let go. His grip on her hand tightened. "No! You’re my wife, Alina! I know you’re angry at me, but please don’t do this. Don’t take Rose away from me."

"Mom, please don't get upset. This is their personal matter. Let's just stay out of it, shall we?" "That's my great-grandchild! How can I not care? Sebastian secretly got married and had a child. Do you all think I'm dead? My son, my daughter, and even my grandson—none of you care about me!" Chandra immediately ordered the driver, "Turn the car around and catch up to that vehicle from earlier!" "Yes, ma'am." The driver didn't dare delay and quickly turned the car around, heading in the direction Rosalie and Justin had left. By then, Rosalie and Justin had parked their car and entered a restaurant. Chandra stormed out of the car and followed them inside.

He knelt down and proposed. Without even moving an inch, I felt the crowd gathered with their phones, “Say yes! Yes!” They chorused. I knew I was cooked because it was going to be on the internet. While I stared at him thinking about the fact that I couldn't hide the marriage from my best friend, and I didn't read the contract I signed, and I was pregnant with him, and he had no idea—I had to give an answer. “Yes,” I muttered. Yes, publicly that I was going to be the CEO's wife.

Just enough. Elena pushed the contract towards him. “My mother first.” “Tonight,” he said. “And I’m not your toy.” His gaze lifted to hers. Dark. Steady. Close enough now that she could see a faint scar cutting through one eyebrow. “No,” he said. “You’re my wife.” The word hit harder than it should have. Wife. Her pulse stumbled. Adrian held out his hand, then paused. “May I?” The question was quiet. Almost private.

I quickly turned my head to the side, pretending as if nothing had happened. Instead of reacting in anger, Celeste actually flashed me a smile. She faced me squarely and lifted a leg. Then, she positioned the showerhead beneath her to rinse herself, giving me an unobstructed view of her most intimate parts. My jaw dropped. Was this how liberal she was, not seeing me as an outsider at all? When did my wife become best friends with her? I was in such luck! I watched Celeste, a smirk also playing on my face. At this moment, my wife had her full attention on her phone, completely oblivious to what just happened.