Novel & Cerita Housewife Gone Wild

STORM My wife was a strange creature. I didn’t know if to be angry or amused. I knew women who could shop but never fifteen thousand dollars in six hours. My eyes were still wide. Of course it was nothing to me but still, a tough pill to swallow. She had no care, moving her head and shoulders as she drew on her iPad and typed on her laptop. In a way she looked in a zone, absorbed. What was she doing? I tried to recall the little I knew about her only to recall a name.

When the rag was pulled from Vivian's mouth, she dry-heaved for a long time before managing to rasp: "Dominic, I'm still legally your wife! This is against the law!" Dominic flung the marriage certificate in her face and let out a derisive laugh. "You really think I'm as stupid as you? My legal wife has only ever been Claire Ashford. What makes you think a few good days entitled you to act like you belonged here?" "What..." Vivian's eyes went wide. With her hands bound, she dropped to her knees and caught the edge of the certificate with her teeth, not caring that her legs were being scraped raw and bloody against the floor.

I wanted to make her jealous and threaten to do things I have never done to her before, but I couldn't. I thought of Boss, he has a wife and children. His wife lives in the same house with him and he brings in ladies of all kinds into the same house. "I hate you!" I heard the woman yell at him one day, I don't know why but I can guess it was because of the girls he brought into the house that rubbed his head and stomach, the same ladies that made him scream and laugh like a lunatic. The poor woman yelled at him, screaming at the top of her voice and I felt for her for one moment.

Something terrible is going to happen, and without a doubt destroy so many lives. Well, this is just the beginning father in-law, Zara thought before following her husband with bounce to her steps. Everything is in chaos inside the house, the maids running like headless chickens but the children of the house are nowhere in sight. She knew where they are going to be, inside their mother's room so she made her way there. She was there only twice but she knows about all the crooks and nooks of the house in that first visit so she was able to sneak Fuzail inside and out without going there.

The chicken hopped around for a moment before dropping a steaming pile of poop onto my custom-made designer couch. Then it took off racing around the living room, scattering feathers and dust everywhere. That was the last straw. I pointed at the two women, my voice shaking with rage. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house? Get out!" Martha Wilson showed no sign of remorse. Instead, she planted her hands on her hips, spat on the floor in my direction, and sneered. "Shut your mouth, you bitch. From now on, we're Ryan's first and second wives. And you think you can throw us out?"

They stopped being the caring in-laws and barely pretended anymore. They forced me to quit my job and stay home, taking on the role of a house husband for Stella. Every couple of days, they'd show up unannounced to check on me. They'd sit down and order a mountain of food. On top of that, everything had to be organic and fresh. Once, they saw Stella mopping the floor and tore me apart. "Stella's the leader of a search and rescue team! She works so hard out there. Why are you letting her do all this?"

She couldn’t help but wonder how many unspoken histories were buried in this family — and how many were about to surface. The castle grew taller, Rachel squealing each time the tide kissed the base. To passersby, they looked like a picture-perfect family sharing a simple joy. But under the hum of the waves, the truth pressed heavy — one man’s longing, one woman’s refusal, and a child unknowingly stitching them together in ways neither could escape. The waves had begun to calm, rolling gently as if the ocean itself wanted to listen. Francesca spread out the cooler’s contents onto the mat — fried rice, grilled chicken wings, plantain, and bottles of malt sweating in the sun.

"I thought you said this was your husband's house." "It is." She looked around again. "It feels more like a giant family." Mrs. Harper smiled proudly. "Exactly." Within minutes, the kitchen turned into complete chaos. "I'll help," Maria offered. Mrs. Harper gasped. "You'll sit." "I've been sitting in a hospital for weeks." "Then you'll sit somewhere nicer." "I can chop vegetables." "No." "I can stir soup." "No." Maria folded her arms. "I can supervise." Mrs. Harper considered that. "Approved."

I was also trying to tell myself that everything is okay and fine when it's was actually not okay. I am Hannah Miller, Mikes wife. To our neighbors I am the woman who always holds the elevator. I never complain about the noise. To the store clerk I am the lady who always clips coupons. To Mike I am a maid. I cook his meals. I clean his clothes. Sometimes I look in the mirror. I try to remember the girl I used to be. The girl who spoke languages. She understood business before breakfast. I gave up a lot of money for what I thought was love. I wanted to know if a man could love me for who I'm

Her gaze held nothing but mischievousness as she caressed him seductively while tracing her other hand up until she cupped his face "We have plan B, don't we… Vivie is crazy as we speak… losing her poor parents and baby, was a lot for her… Victor will be weak and frustrated," Valentina was sure Victor was only putting up a front. Vivienne was his weakness. He danced to her tune and did whatever she said. Victor was a man but listened to his wife. But now his wife had gone crazy hence he was all alone