Italian Wife Beater Novels & Stories

"Quinn, aren't you afraid your husband will lose it if he ever finds out the truth?" One of the women let out a sharp laugh. The tip of her cigarette glowed between her fingers, flaring in the dim hospital corridor. "Lose it? Please. He was born craving women. That night, I didn't even drug him, and he still managed to get what he wanted. He should be thanking me." Quinn Rowan exhaled lazily, voice thick with contempt. "He had his fun all night, and I got exactly what I needed. I'd say that makes us even."

And standing before me was my husband, Raphael Falcone, ready to clear the murderer's name. "Tell me why," A scream clawed at my throat, but I fought it down, "You know damn well who the murderer is." "Catherine, control yourself." It was Luca Vizzini, my childhood friend, who tied my hands. "Salvatore's gone, but you still have us. You're still Mrs. Falcone, still the Principessa of the Leone family." "The Leones have looked after Chiara for years. You know her father is all she has."

I beamed unable to contain my excitement at having a family. "Wow you're really hot." His eyes scanned me. "A really hot wife." Damien subtly reminded and like the possessive husband he his, he put his hand around my waist. "Yes sorry." Kumar said, clearing his throat awkwardly. Damien and his intimidating gaze had done it again. "Hi cuz," sizzling hot, curly haired, brown skinned Antonella came over to hug me with a wide smile. "And hello handsome." She winked at my husband. I cleared my throat and swallowed. That wasn't nice.

He replies angrily too. “Well it marriage doesn't change the fact that I was just like the other girls. I was just one of the many few notches you've nailed on that bed of yours! Damn you Vitalo! Damn you! You have no right to request for anything! Absolutely no damn right!

Other than his desire to exact vengeance upon Fiorella, Nicole did not think that Jared had any other reason to do this to them. Jared was slightly taken aback as he did not expect Nicole to be able to make the correct guess so soon. He smiled. "As I'd thought, my wife is really smart." "That's enough, don't call me that." Nicole warned, not liking what he had said as title did not suit a young woman like her at all. "My lover?" Jared teased her.

"I might reconsider marrying you. No wonder my father bought you for me." I scoffed. "Hm, you take from him. Oh, I kinda saw he had concubines, did they forget to bring you some?" He began walking to me with an amused smile smeared on his lips. "Are you trying to make sure I don't sleep with any lady before our marriage? Don't worry about that, Mami." He winked and then stretched his hand. "Vincenzo Leonid." He introduced. I examined his hand then bravely shook him back. "Alessia Romero, the woman who will kill you if you agree to the marriage, so congratulations, you have met your killer."

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.

The bodyguards pinned him down and stripped him, exposing his back. "And you loved etching your 'masterpiece' on my husband's back, didn't you?" Her voice was unnervingly gentle. "Today, I'll be the artist and make you my masterpiece." She took the machine. This time, the needles were dipped in acid. Instead of leaving her signature, she carved a familiar name on his back—mine. The acid hissed as it touched the skin. Hudson twitched violently, gasping weakly, unable even to cry for mercy. Annie stared at her work and finally allowed herself a satisfied smile.

The informer replied and bowed his head tightly clenching the hem of his cloth. He exhaled a deep breath as Mrs. Mcmaster was out of his sight. And With the opposite side of his hand, he wiped away the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead With a wry smirk at the corner of his lips, he began to curse in his mind looking at the haze faint reflection of Mrs. Mcmaster appearing from afar, "Puttana ( Bitch )," ★............................★ "Dov'è tua moglie? ( Where is your wife?)," Imogen spat tapping his fingers on the table.

Amythest regained her balance and walked over to the window. "How come you didn't tell me about your husband?" In hushed tones, I inquired. She scowled and drew her brows together, as if she didn't understand why I was interested in his husband. She moved away from me and said, "Umm.... he works as a body bulder." I turned around to face her and showed her my biceps once more. Despite the fact that I am not a bodybuilder, I do have abs and biceps. With a thud, she walked into the washroom, rolling her eyes. She shut the door in my face, as though I was invading her personal space. I slapped my face in humiliation and attempted to inquire about her love life.