My Woman His Wife Book Novels & Stories

If I show him that this bothers me, he will continue to do it. Before entering Max’s room, I knock on the door. When I don’t get a response, I slowly open it and say, “Maxwell, you will need to get up or you will be late for work. I am making breakfast for you and your friend. Here are her clothes.” I drop the clothes just inside the door. Maxwell groans, and the woman asks, “Who is that?” Max is quick to respond, “That’s my wife. I would introduce you, but I forgot your name.” The woman leaves in a huff.

I sat there crying while a middle aged woman towered over me screaming her lungs out at me. A man sat there across from me chewing his food and said nothing even though I was looking at him and expecting that he would say something to defend me. I immediately registered the man to be Santoro. That must be my husband, he was the same man at the altar, and the one I saw in the photograph with me. “You are nothing but barren. Why the fuck is it taking you so long to have a baby?” She yelled at me, but I said nothing in response. “And I'm sure it's not my son. He's healthy and fit to father a child. You are so defective and extremely useless as a woman.” Her words bit raw at me just as it did th

the woman asked, noticing that Jared seemed to be really concerned about the woman sitting in front of him. 'I've been around Jared quite frequently for the past five years, but never have I seen another woman like her around him, let alone one whom he would display so much affection to. This is interesting,' the woman thought. "My wife," Jared coldly replied. "You're married? How was I not aware of that?" she asked, her startled voice becoming louder. In response, Jared frowned, and a hint of irritation crossed his eyes. "Just do your job properly. There's no need for you to poke your nose into my personal affairs."

“A good wife never says no to her husband.” Oh. So that’s where this was going. I barely stopped myself from scoffing. Instead, I pressed my lips together and kept my expression neutral, even as irritation started bubbling in my chest. You just open you mouth and let whatever shit you have in your head come out. “Lucas is a strong man,” the first woman continued, “but even strong men need a soft place to land, that’s where you come in. A wife should always be available to her husband, no matter what.I'm sure his people told you that when you both hot married. Poor Lucas, he must be suffering. Now I regret asking him to not marry Lady Santoro after her husband died, she was willing to give hi

And I couldn't help but be impressed when I saw the beauty of the interior. I feel like I'm in a palace. My lips parted. Does Clifford own it? "Welcome, Clifford, and… who are you?" I looked at a woman I didn't realize was in front of me. Her eyes widened in shock and pointed at me. "You are…" Clifford removed the woman's finger pointing at me. "Yes. She is Nishane Cassiana and she is my wife." "How could—" The woman couldn't get over the shock on her face and immediately pulled Clifford away. "Let's talk, Clifford."

She looked up, wiping bits of scone off from her lips. “Yes?” she asked him with a barely detectable hint of nervousness. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, “but I happened to notice that you are reading the same book I am hoping to buy for my wife’s birthday. Is it something that you would recommend?” A man walked by lazily, and the murderer’s eyes followed him with studied nonchalance. The woman, his “Kathleen,” looked faintly surprised. “You want to buy your wife a copy of Why It Is Prudent To Kill the Man That You Marry?”

He pressed her against the desk, making her bend just enough to raise her hips higher. "You’re going to drive me insane," he murmured against her ear. "Good," she said, her voice impatient. How could she be so shameless? And how could it turn him on so much that she was? He had never imagined a woman like her existed—someone who took such open pleasure in driving him mad, pushing him to the edge. She wielded her power over him without hesitation. So different from the sweet, cheerful wife who woke up beside him every morning with a smile.

In their world, the woman always carried the heavier blame. And now, the impossible request hung over her like a stormcloud: Ethan. August’s cousin. His chosen solution. Her heart twisted at the thought. She didn’t want to imagine Ethan’s face, but it forced itself into her mind anyway—his quiet gaze, his steady presence in the family. Ethan was trusted. Reliable. And now, her husband wanted her to cross the one line she had vowed never to break.

A week ago, the news broke that I'd filed a lawsuit against my wife of more than 20 years, Hazel Cooper, the woman who had shared my bed and my life for over half my adulthood. From that moment on, I became the neighborhood's favorite villain. Everyone called me the heartless man who had climbed his way to success and abandoned his wife and child without remorse. In their eyes, Hazel was flawless. She'd married me when I was poor and struggling. She never complained, even when life was hard. She cared for my sickly mother until her final days. She raised our son almost entirely on her own and turned him into a top student, the kind every family boasted about.

Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed. “You've called me three times in twenty minutes.” “I had a reason.” “What happened?” There was a pause. Then the woman on the other end spoke. “I'm coming home in a few days.” Evelyn sat up. “What?” “You heard me. I'll be back in a few days.” “You said you weren't coming back yet.” “I changed my mind.” Evelyn stood. “Why?” The woman's voice became serious. “Because I just heard Damien Schrett is getting married.”