Novel The Wife Novels & Stories

Nevan clutched her jaw and pulled her face closer. “I do….I have those rights over you which are forbidden for you to even think about giving them to anyone else,” he growled, peering into her enraged brown eyes. “Because you are my wife, Anisia Nevan Morelli,” and those words of his shook her world completely. His wife? Anisia Nevan Morelli?

she asked, getting right to the point like kids do. "A little nervous, princess. What if I'm a bad husband?" Emma climbed onto my lap and put her arms around me. "Daddy, you've been practicing being a husband for a whole year. You make Mommy coffee every morning, you help me with homework, you dance with her in the kitchen when she's cooking." "That's practice?" "That's what husbands do. They help their wives be happy every day, not just sometimes." Emma was so smart. "Mommy practiced being a wife too. She learned how to let you help instead of doing everything herself."

"Five years after the marriage, the young woman was beginning to become a woman, even if she did not allow her husband to join her. Becoming a woman was out of all options, there was no possibility of her doing something so vile and distasteful against herself. Francesca spent so much time looking for a way not to bow to that vile family from which her husband came, the young woman refused to become a woman under the protection of that blood that had never done anything to help her family. Months passed, until finally, through an oversight of her mother's maids, the young woman found an old but still well-preserved book on the table in the library of the mansion. The book was there, carefull

Few words left her throat which froze his whole being. “It’s wrong. A sin. I-I am married. I am someone else’s wife. Please.” _____________________________________________ Lmao, why am I laughing? A wife telling her husband she’s someone’s wife when the dude is right above her. It’s funny to imagine. You guys aren’t liking and following me as much as you should. You guys better start following me and liking the story otherwise I will not upload this story often like this. Till the next Adios.

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!”

‘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.

I smirk as I bring the glass to my lips as I watch her and I groan. The sight of my wife looking delectable makes the whore suck my cock harder. My free hand fists her hair as my hips move, ramming down her throat until she gags. My wife was the only one who could take me. This whore Nova is barely able to. I rip her up and away from me.

I was filled with a sense of revulsion so overwhelming it almost knocked me onto the ground. "I am done," I said, breathless. "We are done. Whatever sick game you were playing, whatever delusion led you to believe this would work, done." I stepped toward the door, not wanting to turn around, to allow her permission to spin another lie, play another emotion. Only the woman in another room could be explained then. The lady who passed away on her deathbed as a result of Felicia's deceit and jealousy. Nova. My wife. The one that mattered.

To go near my wife. I didn’t love her or have any particular feelings for her, but one thing was for sure—I am a very possessive man. And Eve Blackwell was going to be my wife, the mother of the heir to the Winter family fortune. She was mine, and I would kill anyone who dared to touch what was mine.

Clint was still waiting outside by the car, calm and composed. “Clint,” I snapped as the doors closed behind me, “do you have any idea if my wife has gotten home?” I couldn’t tell even him that the woman who was currently parading around as my wife was her twin sister. I trusted Clint with my life but this was something I wasn’t willing to share. Not yet at least. He didn’t miss a beat. “Adam informed me that your wife is in Vermont, sir. She was asked to be driven then.”