My Wife Shares Me Novels & Stories

‘Thank you, good sire’ she said, playing along to the way I complimented her. I wanted to scream out to everyone that this was my wife, I know they know, but I don’t think they know how proud and happy I am that she is my wife. To them, this is just a business arrangement. To her, this is just a contract for her company, but to me, this was special, and I would do everything to make her see that. ‘I am so proud to have you as my wife’ I said in a whisper as I leaned in towards her ears. She flinched as I said those words and was a bit taking aback.

She has me at her mercy to command as she wishes, and I have no regrets or intentions of taking that power back. I lie down beside her, careful not to wake her. My arm wraps around her waist, and I press my forehead against her temple, breathing her in. She smells like lavender shampoo. My wife. My warrior. My home. “You have no idea how proud I am of you,” I whisper, my voice low against her skin. “You faced the worst. You faced the truth no one should ever have to carry, and you still chose to survive. You still chose to stay faithful to who you are.”

I whisper back. And the worst part? I mean it. I love my wife. I’m just obsessed with her sister. And I have no idea which one is going to destroy me first.

“It’s not that you don’t know the truth. Everyone thinks that we will break up sooner or later.” “Is that so? I had no idea at all, because you don’t care about things like that at all.” “Who says I don’t care?” Ragnar raised his hand to pinch my lower jaw, forcing me to make eye contact with him. “Even if I don’t care about them, you are still my wife. I don’t like sharing things with others. Do you understand?” “I understand.” Tears welled up in my eyes. “That’s good. Remember to stay away from him next time.”

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.

My wife pulled back, her eyes shining with tears. "I'm just happy we're all together again," she said, her voice trembling. I smiled, holding her close. "Me too, my love. Me too."

I didn’t have to feel it to know I was right. But there was no fucking way I would share my wife with other men, unless she asked for it. She shook her head, but couldn’t tear her gaze away. “How about that one?”

On the night of the company's semiannual appreciation dinner party, everyone exchanges little gifts in a blind-box-style game. However, Madeline Lively, the daughter of my fiancé's late mentor, walks straight up to me. "Open mine, Ciara." I glance at the card on her box, which reads, "Exclusively for the mistress." My brows furrow. But just as I'm about to decline, she tears the box open herself and shoves the contents right in my face. It's a marriage certificate—bearing the names of her and my fiancé, Keith Hummel! "I hope you like it!" The room instantly erupts into wild jeers and laughter. "Finally! I never thought I'd live to see Ms. Coleman wear something other than that sour e

Ryan stood beside me and read them off one by one. "All of this..." "Is that the last one?" "There's one more. It says you wanted a divorce because you..." "Because I what?" "Because you'd fallen for someone else." I paused. Then I started to laugh. I had spent every waking moment of my last life trying to be a good wife to Marcus. I'd learned to cook for him. And still he avoided me at every turn. Whenever he had a free hour, he was either out on business or with Selena. He'd cut off my contact with the outside world and then refused to come near me, letting me rot quietly inside that estate. And now the story was that I'd left him for another man.

Prologue: Derek Two years ago. The night before the accident. She is asleep beside me. Nova. My wife. Her hair spills across my chest like dark silk. Her lips are slightly parted. Her hand rests over my heart. Even in sleep, she reaches for me. Even in sleep, she trusts me. I don't deserve her. I have never told her that out loud. But I feel it every night when the house goes quiet and my thoughts turn black.