Darling Wife Novels & Stories

I drawled as I walked past her to catch up with Darryl. “She's your wife!” Her voice echoed in the quiet living room. “My wife? She's nothing close to being a wife,” I slowly turned to look at her, the anger I had been trying to control threatening to spill out. Whatever she saw in my eyes made her freeze. “You chased my wife out of the mansion, remember? You led her to her grave, and you don't really care. Just like you aren't concerned about your son who just died,” I growled, and her eyes slowly widened as recognition dawned on her face.

"The entire country knows I am your wife now. You cannot keep treating me like this." Darren let out a sinister laugh that sounded terrifying in the dead of the night. He walked toward the wet bar in the corner of the suite, pouring bourbon into a crystal glass with a steady, vascular hand. "Wife? You are nothing more than a sheet of business contract papers forced upon me by my parents, Clarissa. Don't you ever dream that I will regard you as anything more than that."

a voice rang out in a sing -songy tone, one which I knew belonged to a hazelnut haired, brown eyed, freckled, porcelain skinned woman also known as my wife, Daphne. All eyes in the hall turned her way and when I saw her dress. I lost it.

A sculpted body wrapped in a dress clearly inappropriate for a late-night visit to a married couple’s bedroom. “Darling, I asked you to wait,” he said, completely ignoring the fact that I was still there, still his wife. “You took too long,” she replied in a nearly melodic voice, walking toward him and brushing past me. “I missed you.” Darling. He had never called me that. My stomach twisted. I already knew, deep down, I always had, but it didn’t hurt any less. It was like seeing a punch coming and still feeling its full impact.

They are a family, but she can’t be Nikolai’s wife. Nikolai gets something from his drawer and gives it to her. It was only then that she noticed that Nikolai had been wearing a gold ring on his finger. “We’re a complete family, Belle. We’re married. That means you’re still my wife.” He said, giving Belle back her wedding ring.

Darryl's brilliant red sports car reached the starting line last. Many eyes turned to him, they must all be curious why Darryl's car was carrying two beautiful women. "I recognize that beautiful brunette, she is Darryl's wife. But as far as I remember, they have never been publicly together or appeared together in public. She's a recently popular singer, but it's a pity that her marriage doesn't look full and happy, right?" "And the blonde with the curvaceous figure seems to be Dulcie. She's just a slut who likes to show off, I've seen her a few times, but it seems like a woman like her is quite popular with men."

"How dare you say that to my face? I'm your legally wedded wife. I've got everything you would ever want in a woman. I have the perfect look, the perfect body. I'm literally one of the sexiest women alive. Men are dying to be with me." "Then go be with them and get the hell out of my office." Dam pointed towards the door. "No, I'm not going anywhere and neither am I going to allow some gold digger to take my place. If anyone has to die, then it's gonna be your damn mistress." "You're sick! I can't believe you are here acting like a saint when you are the reason this marriage went down the drain." "You stormed in here, claiming to be my wife, can you just mention one good thing you've done th

So where had this woman—claiming she was my wife—fallen from, right into the center of our company? --- “Can you calm down now?” I asked the woman. Her crying had taken me off guard at first, but now she was fraying my nerves. “If you’re Darian Freeman, then who was my husband?” she demanded. Her hazel eyes, reddened from crying, looked almost green. The whites were bloodshot; her makeup had streaked down her face in dark tracks. “I don’t understand you,” I said, impatient. “I was married to Darian Freeman. To the bastard who owns this company!”

she exclaimed. I grinned and returned the compliment, "Thank you, Crystal. I love yours too." Her red velvet dress had traditional holiday grace. "This is my girlfriend, Daria." Crystal and her husband talked with us and introduced us to people we didn't know. Daria relaxed and demonstrated her smart, witty side that I saw often but was usually hidden in public by her shyness. We chatted with Jack Warner and his wife for a while. They were both charmed by Daria. The three of them carried on like old friends.

Even blew on it like she was kissing a boo-boo. I saw red. "Rachel! You're touching him? Right in front of me?" She didn't even flinch. "Aaron actually knows how to treat a woman. Unlike you—you're just an animal. You pound away until I feel torn apart. Aaron is gentle. He's rich. What do you have that he doesn't?" Each word hit me like a knife to the chest. This was my wife. The woman I married. We'd been so happy once. I'd done everything for her.