Defiled Housewife Novels & Stories

Ambitious little thing, isn’t she? ‘To say the least.’ Her voice was deliberately curt. To her mind, there was nothing to recommend the woman; certainly, in comparison to her own beautiful and cultured daughter, Nina, the housekeeper failed miserably in comparison. But she had heard that a man got used to the convenience of sex once he was married. If something happened to the wife, often the man remarried in about a year’s time presiunably to recover all the comforts a wife could provide him.

Jane pushed me harshly on the floor, "Your father died, your stepmother left you, and your real mother was a prostitute. And also, you're nothing but a rat who married a rich man." I was so offended when I heard her say that my jaw dropped. "How could you say that?!" Oh, I completely neglected to mention that I am now the proud owner of this house. She poured wine on my head and whispered, "You're trespassing my territory." I glanced over at her with a frown as tears welled in my eyes; I was confused about everything happening around me. "No, this is my house, my home!" Jane smirked at me, clicked her tongue, and shook her head. "Oh, your husband forgot to tell you about the deal he made wit

“I lived in a small three-bedroom house that my dad bought when he had a decent job. Our door needed to be replaced, but we couldn’t afford it. There were cracks in it, and we put insulation over it to keep the house cool in the summer and warm in the winter. I was living there 18 months ago. Now, I am standing in front of a mansion with iron and glass doors. But it isn’t because I worked hard- “Don’t say you didn’t earn this,” Max interrupts, his voice laced with annoyance. “You are my wife. Did things start well? No. But look where we are. You deserve this and so much more for what I put you through.” Max grabs both my hands in his, “My achievements are yours. You saw a broken man and didn

It was a deliberate choice—meticulously designed to conceal the faint, fading crimson marks Jaxon had left on the sensitive skin of her shoulder the night before. She stared at her reflection. Outwardly, she looked exactly like the pristine, quiet wife Julian demanded for his social functions. But inwardly, the fragile, neglected woman who had spent years enduring this marriage was completely gone. The secret reality of the east wing had rewritten her soul. She was trapped, yes, but she was trapped inside a tactical perimeter designed to execute her husband’s financial ruin. "Elena! Where the hell are my cufflinks?" Julian’s voice barked from the bedroom, sharp, impatient, and entirely obliv

We sat waiting for mom to start talking. “You know what your dad said about forgiveness?” Mom started. “Marriage is all about forgiveness. I’ve forgiven your father a lot of times, for various reasons, like he mentioned. One of those reason’s was Delilah. She used to work here for us, right in this mansion. She used to cook, clean, laundry, use to rotate with the other workers. Delilah was one of the youngest girls working here at that time. That was 25 years ago. She was around 20 when she was working here. She worked here for about a year. She was part of our first bunch of housekeepers we hired, so they were only about 10.”

"Pack your things and get out of here this instant! Also, I'll be mailing the divorce agreement to you. So, don't even think about taking a single penny from my family." Looking at the woman I had once loved so deeply, I suddenly found her incredibly foreign and utterly ridiculous. Even with the truth laid bare, the only things she cared about were still her reputation and her interests; she hadn't offered so much as a single word of apology. "Emma, are you sure you want to kick me out?" I asked calmly, slowly tucking the pen away. "Heartwell Hospital used to be a subpar hospital on the brink of bankruptcy. I was the one who led the team and spent five years turning it into a top-tier instit

Cerelith said. I frowned. "Tainted?" Her gaze flicked down the corridor ensuring we were alone. Then, with a voice dripping with disdain , she said. "She was deflowered by one of their servants. A man beneath even the lowest of our station. And when it came out, to preserve her name, she was married to a spinster land baron thrice her age—useless, dying and desperate for a young wife. She's not here for shelter. She's here for Darrell. Again."

And in the darkness, Ethan’s shadow lingered, mocking her resolve. The next morning broke with the chatter of birds perched along the bougainvillea fence outside. The compound smelled faintly of dew and firewood smoke from a neighbor’s kitchen. Emelia stood in the living room, dressed simply in a lilac blouse and wrapper, her hair tied back loosely. She had been dusting, though her movements were distracted, mechanical.

Everyone wanted someone as wonderful and devoted as him to fall in love with them. But it was all a lie. Returning to the present, I felt my stomach churning. Something was threatening to spill out of me. I fled to the bathroom and puked my guts out. I was still in the bathroom when I heard the commotion outside. In the heavy silence of the room, the familiar voice rang out with unusual clarity. "My wife prepared a surprise for me. It should be right here in this room."

"The man is a rapist, and the woman isn't any better. Rotten trash! Go to hell!" "You disgusting thing. A disgrace to women. If I were you, I'd kill myself right now to atone!" "Are you that vile? You can't have children, so you harm other women? Are you even human?" ... Those comments were like sharp knives, carving into me until I was flayed alive. At the thought of it, I immediately deleted everything on the account and then deactivated it entirely. Then another thought surfaced. What difference would that make? What was coming would still come.