Provocative Wife Novels & Stories

I corrected her and the disdain in her eyes increased as she looked me over from head to toe. “So what if you're his wife? Do you know who I am?” She tried to feign some dominance in the situation and even though people were watching, I didn't back down or get anxious. I didn't even care that they were all staring because for some reasons that I couldn't defend, I was pissed about seeing Michael get wet all because of someone who chose to be careless. “I don't know who you are because you're irrelevant to me. And it doesn't even matter if I do. I am Michael Rover's wife and that should be enough to make you shiver in your shoes. So here is a warning… don't Fucking touch my husband”

He said with no remorse. “Like hell, I'm not your wife anymore. You abduct me and keep me here because of your stupid pleasure. I'm not going to turn up for you.” “You call it a pleasure but I'm telling you that we're going to make babies.”

As they dragged Talia off, she twisted back and spat, "I put up with being your wife for seven years—that's more than you deserved. You think you're some prize? "You can't get anyone pregnant, and you've been useless in bed for years. No one wants you unless she's desperate. "So what if I went to Danny? When things go wrong, maybe look at yourself. A guy like you thinks I should've stayed loyal?" After we got married, we ran every test trying for a kid. Nothing happened. I told her to take it slow. I even got her pricey meds to help. She quit after a few days. So she thought I was the problem? That I couldn't perform?

But just because of her this mistake it became a cunning and evil plotting place for Zen to trouble Karan. Even before this we tried to attack Dia thinking the company she was handling was hers but it turned out to be her bestfriends father and I guess she values that old man more than anything. She staying awake and reluctantly working hard got them out of that crisis which occured accidentally as we ployed their rivals. And now he is inside the jail, rotting in hell and thankfully he doesn't have any proof of us being involved in that. But the way she being far from her family and husband keeping her sacred relation on a thin thread helped them was commendable. While her husband turned out

And if I do question it will insult Odin and his dead wife, and I'm not the type of person to discriminate against the dead. "She was a prostitute." I squeaked, which made Odin bark a laugh, and had my face back to a bright red cherry blush. "I'm sorry, my dear, but that look asked me what my wife did in her youth. It was written on your face." He chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't want to ask, but-" "Oh, nonsense. It was my wife's past life, and she wasn't too proud." "What happened?" "Well, my wife is the only child of a mother who has schizophrenia. She didn't go to school and paid the medical bills, and medical attention was the only thing that gave her a hard time. So, she decided to become an

“You’re dramatic, not delicate.” Roman stared at her, caught between offense and amusement. “Dramatic?” he repeated slowly. “Mhm.” Elena lifted one finger and tapped his chest. “Very.” Roman’s eyes narrowed with the kind of faux danger that always made her pulse skip. “Elena,” he warned softly, “I just carried you like you weighed nothing. Dramatic is not the word.” “Oh, it is,” she said, grin deepening. “You should have heard yourself earlier. ‘No one touches my wife.’ ‘My wife stays here.’ ‘I will bury the police department.’”

It was art. When the media got their hands on these documents tomorrow morning, they wouldn't see a brilliant woman rebuilding her life after a tragic wrongful imprisonment. They would see a cold, paranoid CEO driven by wild obsession. They would see a woman who had used her former husband, exploited her company's capital, and dragged everyone around her into a personal war. It echoed the original framing narrative I had engineered years ago so cleanly it almost brought a smile to my face. The world loved a victim until that victim fought back too hard; then, the world turned them into the villain.

“I’m trying to have a delicious gnocchi dinner with my wife. You two need to leave.” “Ex-wife!” I corrected loudly, the whole room going silent. “You know, Alice doesn’t enjoy either one of your dishes,” Arlington commented, Adam’s disappointment evident. “She likes to make her own food. She’s a chef in her own right.” As the three men argued and chatted, the room started to feel hot. It was unbearable, the oxygen slowly disappearing until I felt light-headed. It was madness, completely overwhelming, and I needed them all to just leave. I pushed the button on the side of my bed before taking a deep breath to steady myself.

Her eyes widened in shock, and she gasped for breath, her hands clawing at my arm. “Let go!” she choked out, her voice high with panic. I leaned in close, letting the fury in my chest boil over. “How dare you come to my home and try to shut me up,” I growled. “You think I don’t know what kind of snake you are? You had a hand in this. It was your influence that pushed my wife into becoming some pathetic side piece for that disgusting old man.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she croaked, her voice pleading.

But she didn’t care at all where we went. At the restaurant, when it came to ordering food, she relied completely on my preferences. Even the conversation topics—those were all set by me. I asked delicate, even provocative questions, and she agreed with everything. Whatever opinion or decision a future husband might have—she was fine with it. I even asked what she would do if her husband turned violent. Her answer? "A wife shouldn't provoke such a reaction in her man. But if she fails to avoid his anger, then a wise woman will endure."