Estranged Wife Novels & Stories

Witness intimidated. The date at the top was five years old—the same year her own life had disintegrated, and the same year her brother, Hogan, was imprisoned for a murder he hadn't committed. The realization hit her like a physical blow: Darius hadn't been investigating Hogan’s case out of charity. He had been hunting the same shadow that had destroyed his own happiness. A mechanical hum signaled the front gates. Panic surged; she shoved the binder back into its hidden corner and fled to the nursery, the only room that felt anchored in the future.

Her smile, which used to feel like home, now just a distant memory I couldn’t touch anymore. She stayed for so long. In silence. In pain. In a role she never truly chose. My wife… but never really my wife. The mother of my child… but never part of my life. I put her in the wrong place, bound her with a contract I thought would keep her by my side, when in truth, I was the one slowly eroding her reasons to stay.

I decided to keep this information to myself because I knew if I told my wife, knowing the pain my family caused her, God knows she might even contemplate divorcing me. I arranged myself in my office and put on a fake smile before leaving. I made a mental note to not inform my wife of the news yet until I had enough proof and also had a meeting with my estranged family. (Alexandria’s p.o.v) it's been almost three days since I last saw my wife. I know she's been avoiding me, and I know this because I saw her peeking through the curtains of our living room windows when I was leaving for my early morning jog.

She said almost shouting. I was shocked by the tone of her voice. I glared at her. "What do you mean by that?" I said seriously. "Your wife is gone! She left you! Why do you think I’m here instead of her?! Because she already left you! She left with Alex! They cheated on us! They left us!” She said while she is crying so loud. I shake my head. That’s impossible! My wife will never do that! “What are you saying?” I said still in disbelief.

Could it be that someone else entirely, and not Sandra Ashbourne, was the true target of that warning message? My brain ponders the puzzle, my thoughts racing as my fingers grip my leather jacket. The term 'little lady' didn't just apply to Sandra's petite frame; there was also my estranged, legal wife whom my family forced me to marry—the female I had never once met in person and whose empty marriage contract my status had used to ward off Sade Wintermere's aggressive advances. And lately, her lawyers had been pushing hard for a final divorce, which my beast had been stubbornly resisting. Could the mysterious, powerful hacker behind my business losses be standing up to defend my

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