Not Your Trophy Wife Novels & Stories

He leaned down, bringing his face close to hers. "I am the perfect Trophy Husband." Cyra stared at him. She looked at his eyes—dark, broken, and burning with a rage that matched her own. "A Trophy Husband," she repeated, tasting the words. "I'll play the part," Vesper promised. "I'll stand on your arm at the galas. I'll smile at the cameras. I'll let the Board think I'm 'taming' you." "And what do you get out of it?" Cyra asked. "Money?"

“And if I fail?” He glanced at the girl as she mumbled something towards me. “Then she dies,” he said simply. “And so do you.” My knees nearly buckled. “You wouldn’t,” I whispered. “Oh honey….you know me too well to know that I don't make empty threats.” My knees almost buckled beneath me. " It's like when you met Adrian you suddenly just lost your balance….and your whole purpose. You've become sloppy…….Being a trophy wife can't be as fun as being the CEO and heiress to a multimillionaire company, now can it?"

After Cassian Frick scatters my mother's ashes, Serena Skelding and he become sworn enemies. To stand up for me, Serena drives her car into Cassian and breaks his leg. They remain locked in a bitter feud for five years. It finally comes to an end when Serena marries me, and Cassian leaves the country in disgrace. Three years later, Cassian shows up again at a class reunion. Someone urges him to liven things up. Cassian looks at Serena and smiles. "She and I once had a child. We went at it too roughly and lost it, though. Before I went abroad, she promised me she'd mourn our unborn child for three years." As he says this, he gives me a meaningful look. "Hey, you still haven't slept with

Patricia stared in disbelief. "No." Alison nodded slowly. "Yes." "No." "He bought a house." Patricia's world tilted. The room seemed smaller. Colder. Impossible. Eighteen million? Alex couldn't even pay rent. Or so she thought. Then her gaze drifted lower. Toward the intended co-owner section. The space where a spouse's name should have appeared. Instead, another name had been entered. A name Patricia now hated. Fiona Lawama. For several seconds, silence filled the office.

"Elliot, you're the other man. You're so desperate to take my place that it's pathetic. How dare you push Olivia to divorce me! Where did you hide her?" I stepped back, keeping my tone calm. "Relax. I'm not marrying Olivia. I don't want her anymore." He let out a short laugh, taking it as sarcasm. "Olivia married me because she loves me. You'll never win against me." I had never been competing with him. He was the one who turned me into an enemy in his head, acted decent to my face, then posted that video behind my back. My voice tightened despite myself. "No one's competing with you, but you killed my mom. Don't you owe me an apology?"

Clementine answered me like it was so obvious, "we may be married to old ugly men, exception being you because Mr Aebischer is...hot, but they've all got mistresses to sate their sexual needs which are little to none existent and we're written in their wills so if they were to die we would be so wealthy, we could wipe our asses and blow our noses with $100 bills." "So what are we? Housewives?" I asked them, as I leaned back in my chair. "No, no, honey," Beverly shook her head, "we're not housewives," she raised her finger, stopping me from speaking, "we're the trophy wives." "Just because you add the to the word, doesn't suddenly make me proud to about to become one," I stated, sombrely.

Edna kind of recites. She adds hand gestures here and there to make her long monologue believable and good. The lady nods as if she is listening to the greatest wisdom of all time. "That's so great. So you are like the trophy Wife?" She laughs, but Edna doesn't laugh with her. "Excuse me?" Edna squints, slightly irritated. " What I mean is that you are young and beautiful, plus you are intelligent, which surely makes you the family's trophy. " The interview tries to explain, but Edna is getting even more offended by her remark.

“Green isn’t a good colour on you, honey. But maybe that’s because it’s your natural tint, and like everything you were born with reeks of poverty and filth.” “You weren’t wealthy before you got married to Noah!” Wendy raised her voice. “But I am now!” Natalia reported. “Without him, you’re nothing. How are you able to get so much and still look plain?” Wendy said. “Says the one who bagged a daughter with a failed relationship and a ruined life. Failed single mom awards go to you, girl.” Natalia said, surprising herself. Then she blew her a kiss. “Y-you! You bitch!” Wendy stomped her foot.

Was his wife here to catch them red-handed? Before she could explain, Will’s wife said snappily, “Does life in the Tremont household and Mark Tremont not live up to your expectations? You’re married. Why are you still involved with someone else’s husband? I’ve always wondered what’s so special about the girl who got away. Now I know that you’re nothing but a dishonorable sl*t!”

I turned at the sound of a familiar voice and then I saw him; Troy Stanford, the man who had decieved me into believing that he was my husband. My expression turned icy as I remembered the humiliation his family had put me through: Chelsea’s slap, Sydney’s and his mom's vindictive tantrums, and worse, the moment I had walked naked into Troy's bathroom, offering myself to him, convinced I was his wife. The embarrassment of that moment still made my stomach churn.