Not Your Trophy Wife Novels & Stories

Because she is not Groddy's ex-wife, and is not a woman who sold her body to gain recognition as the lover of a vineyard owner named Groddy. She is a queen who has found perfect love, since Groddy still has a very difficult life in Switzerland. "Sehrize, you are a woman who will never be my ex-wife through out my life.You are my queen."Whispered Groddy while giving a small bite to his lover's ear.

HIS SECRET WIFE: (MARRIAGE OF CONVIENCE MAFIA ROMANCE) Tropes: Forced promiximity, Plus size FMC, Mafia, Sweet mafia romance, marriage of convience, Brandy: My husband is disgusted and ashamed of me. Everyone laughed when I walked down the aisle. We were forced to marry and all he wants to do is get rid of me. His family resorted to starving me for days so I could lose weight. Once again, I am alone. I just need to keep my head down and stay out of his way.

“You don't stop but you change how you have fun. Or you have fun with your wife. Take her with you.” “I don't think she's one for clubs.” He laughed. “Then drink at home, with her. Turn your house into a club if you have to.” He groaned. “She married Arjun Korana, this is him.” “Well, Arjun got married, he needs to make some changes too. You're no longer single.” I told him. “You do know that, right?” He scoffed. “I'm still single.” I shook my head at him. “You wish.”

We wanted to reap more benefits of our beauty before age set in. We relished our roles as trophy wives as long as our husbands took us off the shelf regularly to dust us off. Unfortunately, our husbands had grown just as bored with us as we had with them. We searched for something to shake us up. It wasn't until Quinn made a trip to the big city that we got our chance.

“What’s going on, Tyler? Do you two know each other?” Tyler awkwardly shook his head. “No, we don’t.” With one sentence, he erased my existence as his wife in front of someone else. I swallowed my anger, refusing to make a scene. This wasn’t the first time he had done this. We’d been married for ten years, yet none of his friends knew I even existed. Only his family recognized me as his wife. I took a deep breath and focused on the documents Mindy handed me, sorting through them before handing them back to her.

I thundered and he growled, grabbing my arms as he shook me with his fierce gray orbs transfixed on mine. "I never fucking hated you, woman! I loved you, in fact, even before you decided you loved me too. The thing was that I hated it. I hated that I had fallen in love with you after I promised myself that I would hate you because my father forced you on me. Then I realized that you were the worst trophy wife ever; you did not deserve the emotionless marriage I was giving you. You did not deserve how badly I was treating you; even if that is the exact way most men like me treat their trophy wives. Most trophy wives were okay with it as long as they got money.

“No— not—” “No. Sorry.” I waved his offer away as I walked far. I may have been desperate for money, but there was no way I was going to be his trophy wife. His girlfriend was beautiful, and everyone thought she was a good digger and a social climber. So what did that leave me? “Six hundred grand!” “No!”

“And why's that, wife?” “Because I'm not your trophy.” I straightened. “I don't owe anyone who's related to you, a performance tonight.” “This marriage was never just about you and me.” He took a slow step forward, before leaning in even closer. He looked like a predator cornering prey, and I hated that I knew which category I fell under. “It's about power. Territory, perception. You walking in on my arm sends a message tonight.” “I don't care about your damned message.” I snapped. “Im not going to parade around like some prize.”

“You walk in here like you belong, draped on his arm like some trophy. Still married and already parading around with a sugar daddy? Wow.” My pulse jumped, but I didn’t let it show. I turned to her, my eyes hard. “Still married?” I echoed. “Don’t worry, Joey. That title doesn’t mean what it used to. Especially when my husband chooses you over me and lets you cook in my kitchen.” Her face paled. “You think this is funny?” “No,” I said. “I think it’s tragic.” Joey stepped forward. “You’re disgusting. Selling yourself off the moment you got free—”

Beckett snapped, as if reliving a past where he had never been free to live his own life, bound only by obligations. Shofia fumed at having to be reminded of the woman who once married her husband. She felt like the second woman, the one who was never truly chosen. Beckett had never married her until Vivian died. He had always promised to make her happy, but he always failed, because Dominic constantly stood in his way, ruining Beckett’s business and his career. Only after Vivian’s death, with Win’s company renamed into Brown, did Shofia feel some measure of happiness. But even that was never truly theirs, because Vivian had merely entrusted it, to eventually become Laura’s inheritance.