His Italian Wife Novels & Stories

Marco asked, looking at me with a smile while he shook hands with Mario. “Yes, this is my wife, Gia,” Mario answered. “She’s beautiful,” Marco complimented me. “She is, isn’t she?” Mario queried with an irritated face because Marco looked at me longer than he was supposed to. Marco noticed the change in his tone and then looked away from me and looked at Mario. “I was out of the country; I just returned this morning. I’m sorry I missed your wedding,” Marco said to settle the dust in the air. “It’s okay. I’m glad to see you here,” Mario answered.

Aria didn't back off the staring session as she looked into his eyes, not letting him intimidate her. "I don't care about your patience! And don't call me your wife until and unless you declare it to the world. Who knows about our marriage in Bratva, Aleksandr. You made a mockery of me among my soldiers. Among Cosa Nostra and your side of people are not aware that their queen is Italian. How is this fair?" "They know about Dinara. Your brother made sure of it!" He snapped at her.

She looked like a quiet woman, unlike Cassio who bursted into a booming laugh at the sight of Vittorio. "Cassio, meet my wife, Camilla." Vittorio said, pulling me forward. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Don Cassio De Laurent." I greeted, bowing slightly. Cassio's eyes trailed over my body. "You are such a lovely woman, truly lovely. Vittorio, you greedy man." He turned to the woman beside him. "This is Elena, my wife. I'm afraid she is not as beautiful as you are." The men bursted into laughter as Elena looked away.

He gestured to a chair bed him. “Sit.” I moved quickly, not in an effort to please him but as an attempt to escape the stares crawling over my skin. “Diego isn’t cold yet and you’ve snatched his widow. Well I would have done the same most especially with someone as hot as this one here.” One of the men said, chuckling. Bruno glared at him, and rested a possessive hand on the back of my chair. “This is Isabella, my wife and my responsibility.” He announced, his voice hardening.

My roommate, John Swift, asked in shock, “Pete, are you throwing that away? I thought you cherished that photo a lot.” I shook my head and cut Bella out of the family portrait. I tore it into pieces. John seemed to understand. “Pete, is your wife alive?” I pulled out my phone. Someone had sent me a text two weeks ago. [Bella’s still alive.] There was a photo attached to the message. It was a selfie of Bella and Carlson. Two weeks ago, I found out that my wife, who had supposedly been dead for five years, was still alive. When I first found out the news, I could not even sleep.

[ Aitana ] "My son can't keep his hands off you."Lilliana teased me as soon as we hit on the road in her car. "Please don't ask how miserable his face looked when I rejected his plan on staying indoors."I laughed alone with her.I never felt shy or awkward around her since we get along well. "Alessandro is no exception from other Italian men.They want to keep their wives locked in early period of their marriage or until they have a baby after than they turn as cold as a stranger from far land."She said and the pain I saw in her eyes was understandable.

“What?” I wiped my eyes and met his gaze. “You’ll be limping down the aisle because I stabbed you in the leg,” I said evenly, “and I’ll be walking down the aisle in a sling because you broke my scapula in three places.” I chuckled again. “We’re either going to make a great husband and wife... or kill each other trying.” He studied my face, then slowly smiled. A low chuckle followed. “Vittoria Guerra,” he said, standing with my help, towering over me, “you are as crazy as you are beautiful. And I’m very glad you’ll be my wife.”

said Tristan. "Mr. Rosellini will stay here to close the last details; And from this moment on, my wife stops working in this company," said Tristan. "What? What are you talking about?" said Dilan surprised. "I forgot, let me introduce you to my wife, Larissa Douglas. We just got married in Italy 3 days ago. As you can imagine, I am not going to let my wife keep working for you," said Tristan smiling, enjoying his victory over Dilan.

Dante says. "You better not cheat on her. Anyway, she is a lot like me and her mother. She knows exactly what we will do in a situation like that. What can we say? We are Italian. We are passionate people. You see, you are also very warm-blooded, and you would not like your wife to have an affair with another man. No Italian would like to see their partner cheating on them. We have the most wonderful fights, but we also have the best makeup sex," I laugh.

Elena said. "Meaning," Tommaso said, with the care of a lawyer approaching his own clause, "the commission wasn't 'film Moretti's car.' It was filed under a name. The new wife. La nuova moglie." He let the Italian sit between them. "The word is out, signora. In the world where it matters, the marriage is known." The hills were very quiet. Somewhere down the drive, a gate closed. "She stays in the villa," Tommaso said to Dante, "until."