I Am The Real Wife Novels & Stories

“You’re not my real wife Selena,” His voice dropped low. “So?” I asked in exasperation. “I’m still married to you. I’m your real wife not —- whatever her name is,” I hissed, my anger turning to shame as I remembered the feeling in my stomach when they had walked into the dining room “Selena,” Kael took another step towards me and stood directly in front of me. “You can’t question me. You’re not my real wife,” “Yes, I am,” my voice dropped low as I registered just how close together we were standing. “I left my province for you. So yes, I’m your real wife,”

I looked at his unfamiliar face, wondering when we had changed guards for the entrance. “I own this property. Are you sure you want to block my way?” The guard reacted as if he had just heard a joke. His gaze swept up and down over me. He taunted, “Bro, you should take a closer look at yourself before you lie. This property belongs to Ms. Croy of the Viapent Group. She’s celebrating her grandfather’s birthday. “Personally, I’d say that you just want to sneak in to get some free food and drink. Forget it. Don’t you know who Ms. Croy is? There’s no way you’d be able to just get into this place.”

Brandon's management team, the bodyguards, and that arrogant property manager were all instantly pinned to the ground, crying and wailing. Cassie watched the dark gun barrels aimed at her and finally broke down completely. She screamed at me hysterically, "Arthur! You can't do this to me! I'm your wife! I was wrong! I was really wrong! Make them let me go! Please! Don't you love me? You've sacrificed so much for me. You can't be this heartless!" However, the only response she got was the soldiers coldly pulling her arms behind her back and binding them tightly with restraints. Her precious designer dress was pulled out of shape. Her carefully styled hair hung in disheveled tangles, making he

"Jerome, you can't be this cold. Talia's your wife! You're really sending her to prison yourself? Without her, these kids won't have a mother!" It made my stomach turn. Now he just said it out loud—she's my wife. No shame. I almost wanted to slap myself for bringing him into her life. "You good? Talia's your wife. Your kids' mom. What's she got to do with me? You wanted what wasn't yours. You stabbed me in the back. Now you pay." As they dragged Talia off, she twisted back and spat, "I put up with being your wife for seven years—that's more than you deserved. You think you're some prize?

Edward’s wife was not a woman a man like me should allow into his thoughts. Wanting her wasn’t foolish. It was treason. I excused myself under the pretense of taking a call, murmuring a polite apology as I stepped away from the group. No one questioned it. Men like me were always needed elsewhere, always managing something unseen. I didn’t go far. Instead, I moved closer to her, my steps casual, indirect—perfectly reasonable. The kind of movement no one would question. Our shoulders brushed. It was accidental. It had to be.

I was never the wife. I got bored of the tv and grabbed my phone to scroll I*******m. I stumbled on all manner of thing including Susan’s vacation pics, then a blog headline stopped me cold. “BILLIONAIRE’S FAKE MARRIAGE EXPOSED: Damon Langford Paid Single Mom to Play Wife—Stole Her from Ex, Took Her Son Too!” I dialed Damon immediately but it went straight to voicemail again and again. My hands shook. Who knew? Who hated us this much? I was about to chuck the phone when Catherine started calling.

A real one, directed at me, or at least at the version of me the room needed to see. "This lovely lady," he said, "is my wife." One beat of silence. Then… "What!?"

I was accompanying my mother-in-law to our family-owned hospital for a follow-up appointment. She had developed a lifelong gynecological condition from complications during my wife's birth. A muscular man passed by, recoiled in disgust, and shuffled to the other side of the aisle before shouting for a nurse. "What kind of hospital is this? You just let any filthy person sit in the waiting area? This old hag reeks. Is nobody going to do anything about it?" The nurse hurried over and recognized my mother-in-law. She held up her hands. "Sir, this patient is here for a scheduled follow-up. We can't turn her away." The man lost it. "What part of that don't you understand? Take this old hag

I tapped it open. There were photos of her and Luca’s stamped, signed marriage certificate and shots of their hands intertwined, the Vitali family crest glinting on a ring on her finger. They had already married, and I had become the other woman..... I was in excruciating pain. But it was also good this way. My leaving would give them exactly what they wanted. I knew Luca better than anyone. He’d never let her post this, not if he wanted to keep it from me. She was rubbing it in my face, plain and simple.

“It seems I'll have to scrap that term off the contract, because I won't sit back and watch you get killed.” “Why?” “Because you’re my wife.” “I defended you against your family because you’re my wife. I intend to find out who wants you dead because you’re my wife.” His wife. He said it with so much seriousness, as though this arrangement is nothing more than a contract. My fingers dig into my palms. “Fake wife,” I correct. “It doesn’t matter. No one out there knows it’s fake. You are now Selene Manchester. No one messes with the Manchesters.”