Forgotten Wife：let The Traitors Kneel Down Novels & Stories

The document fluttered through the air, landing directly at the feet of the chief foreign delegate from the western territories. "Read it aloud," Killian ordered the foreign delegate, his voice echoing with absolute sovereign authority. The trembling delegate picked up the parchment, his eyes scanning the handwritten script. As the damning words—'Cut out her womb... deliver her head on a silver spike'—registered in his mind, the foreign leader went completely pale, his hands shaking as he dropped the parchment back to the floor in sheer horror. Killian stepped forward, towering over the kneeling, sobbing bride as he addressed the entire assembly with a declaration that shattered the politics

Seven years into my mission to win Stephanie Chelle's heart, I had helped her become one of the business world's rising stars. And yet, she divorced me for her first love. All because her first love was terminally ill, and she had promised to marry him. I refused to give up and begged her to stay. "Once we're divorced, I won't remember you anymore." But she impatiently shook off my hand. "Can you stop being so selfish? Grayson is dying, and you're still fighting for my attention?" Later, I remembered everyone except Stephanie. Yet she came to me with red-rimmed eyes, begging me to come back.

Her body trembled slightly as she locked eyes with her husband, her voice wavering yet filled with iron resolve. “Our marriage is over. But remember this, Vick… the universe will not stand idle. My downfall will mark the beginning of yours. I’ll make sure you regret this for the rest of your life.” Without waiting for a reply, Amora turned sharply. Her steps echoed fast and heavy as she left her own house, leaving behind a suffocating tension that wrapped around everyone present.

And in front of them all, on the warm stone tiles, the fifth woman knelt, her hands resting in her lap, her whole body bent under the weight of the moment. My breath caught. The woman standing in front, the one with the proud chin and the cold stillness of someone who had never once been made to kneel in her life, was Tasha. Sparrow's wife. His fake wife, bound to him by a contract meant to keep her safe, and standing over the scene like a queen over a servant. And the woman on her knees, the one whose shoulders curved like she was trying to disappear, lifted her chin just enough for the light to catch her face, and my heart stopped.

"We have to tell the pack," Adrian said. "No." "They have a right to know." "They'll tear us apart." "They'll tear me apart. You're the one they'd cheer for." "Adrian." Elena shoved her hair back with a trembling hand. "Last week, I was a traitor. Yesterday, I was a Moonwarden. Today, I'm the face on a thousand-year-old carving, and the Council wants my son in a laboratory. And you want to stand up in front of five hundred wolves and announce that your family's throne was built on slavery?"

Lemos said, making Marco widen his eyes. "And now, watch what I will do to your wife. I want you to see it with your own eyes," Lemos said, then reached out his hand to pull Letta's flowing hair, revealing Letta's tear-streaked face. "Please, don't touch me," Letta said again. "Then, if I don't touch you, what retribution will you offer so that I won't hurt your husband?" Lemos said, making Letta fall silent again. Perhaps this was the only thing she could offer to prevent Lemos from hurting her husband.

A harsh reality slammed into me when the name popped into my head. Lara. My wife. The woman I had left inside, sleeping, her body still marked by my hands and my sins. I looked at the girl standing in front of me. I took a step back. Lowered the violin. She whispered, “What’s… wrong?” I breathed the name of my wife, barely audible. My wedding ring shone on my finger like a curse. She lifted her head toward me. And that was when I realized something sharp and cruel. Kaiden Draven, the man who felt nothing… had finally fallen.

one said. “New York is not our tradition,” another added. My jaw clenched. “I can rule from anywhere, I don't need a location stamp to lead. You don’t get to give me orders.” “You killed your blood, all because of an Italian. That is unforgivable.” My hands clenched into fists. “That Italian is my wife and that blood you speak of betrayed me. Do we accept traitors now?” They looked amongst themselves, realizing they had no argument to that.

don't refer yourself as my wife cause I am not your husband ", he left their sight instantly Candida stood speechless, she couldn't believe Fredo will let her down this year

And he wasn’t the only person who would come for my throat and hers, if any of the photos and images got out. I was literally forced to apologize, and I still haven’t done it properly. “You are the worst type of man. A coward with nothing to his name. If your parents wanted too they could cut you out of their business because nothing you own is yours. You’ll be a loser with no wife, no money, and nobody who gives a fuck about you.” Her drink sloshes around in the small teacup she was holding on to tightly. Only a mad woman drinks whiskey in a teacup, and my wife is topping the charts of insanity.