Richard Harmon Wife Novels & Stories

She walked closer and he stopped dead in his tracks as if he had just seen a ghost. “Richard, I need your help with something.” She turned to see me. “Hello young lady.” “Hello Ma'am.” “I am Richard's wife. Nice to meet you.” That was what I was waiting for. “Your husband is an exceptional man. You know we met at…” Richard rushed over interrupting me. “Leave the poor.girl alone. Go wait for me in the storage room and I'll be right there.” She smiled, nodding to me before pecking him on the chin and walking away.

he laughed. Valentine laughed along with him and she made sure he was feeling calm. “What’s your name and your wife’s?” “I’m Richard, my wife’s name is Victoria.” “So, tell me, Richard. What is your wife like? Talk everything that you love about her,” Valentine managed to start a conversation and she instantly felt that this would go easy. She gestured for him to walk ahead and her to stay behind him. “Victoria,” he mumbled his wife’s name. “My woman’s a cheerful one. She loves to cook and always know how to comfort me at times when I’m in need of help,” he began.

"Of course not!" I sat down. It was almost funny, attending my own wife's wedding and whatnot. I started looking around. Before long, the older woman beside me struck up a conversation. "Those two look perfect together, don't they? It wasn't easy for them to get married." I gritted my teeth, but the bitterness still came. "What made it hard?"

Harold’s voice rose, anger finally breaking through, “you’re here in my office, causing a fucking scene.” He stepped closer, his grip on me firm. “So get the hell out.” The silence that followed was deafening. But Harold wasn’t done. “And don’t fucking touch my wife,” he added, his voice cold and possessive. “Because she is mine.” My heart skipped a beat. “And just so you know,” Harold continued, “we already have a child together, and we make love every night.” That did it. I saw it the moment it hit David. Something inside him snapped.

“She and her husband used to host half the neighborhood for their elaborate parties.” “Used to?” I frowned. His expression shifted just slightly. It wasn’t sad exactly, but reflective. “Her husband, Richard, passed away about two years ago.” “Oh. She’s a widow?” I didn’t expect to hear that. “She doesn’t look it.” “And how exactly do widows look?” Nathan asked, his lips curving in a teasing smirk. I chuckled, realizing I sounded a little ridiculous. I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, another guest was already in front of us.

"Richard, stop—" "I know about his fiancée. About Sara. About how she died because of him." His smile was vicious. "And I'm going to make sure everyone else knows too. Make sure they understand that Liam Hawthorne is a man who destroys the women he claims to love. Make sure you understand what kind of monster you just married." He released me with a shove, and I collapsed against the alley wall, shaking. "Stay married to him," Richard said, already walking away. "By all means. But don't come crying to me when history repeats and you end up just like Sara—destroyed by Liam Hawthorne's toxic love."

He had never understood what she had been doing, how she had tried to reach him when no one else could, until it was too late. “I have no idea where she is,” Damien said finally, his voice low, almost drowned by the hum of the mansion around them. Richard shook his head slowly, his expression heavy with frustration and sorrow. “She’s still your wife legally, Damien. She was one of the best things that ever happened to you, and you were too blind to see it.” The doorbell rang, cutting through the tension. It was sudden, startling, and it made Damien flinch even though he didn’t move. Richard’s eyes flicked toward the door, a brief hesitation passing over his features.

She asked. Richard replied by shaking his head. "Is okay, don't come and regret it later," she smiled. "If you are going to stay with me, there is something I would like you to know," the woman announced. Richard looked at her waiting to heard what she will say. "My husband is not fond of people, and he's pretty aggressive," the woman revealed. "I'm okay with that," Richard responded. "Is okay, I will see how you would handle that," she smiled.

"I know how to handle my wife... I don't need anyone's opinion..." he spat madly. "I don't give a fuck... Your aunt is coming here tomorrow to meet your wife. If she find out that your wife is not staying in your room, fuck that basically she is not even staying in this mansion then she will freak out. Frankly I don't give a shit about her but she treats you like her son and I am not going to handle that annoying shit she will throw at me..." Richard said madly. his wife wasn't present in the wedding due to her health issues.

Selene Hawthorne moved through the crowd like a storm contained within elegance — untouchable, graceful, and utterly oblivious to the chaos she’d already sown inside me. Her husband, Edward Hawthorne, was a master of appearances. The perfect smile, the steady handshake, the calm confidence that made him untouchable. He was Edward Hawthorne — philanthropist, elite businessman, my richest client — and he was about to be my undoing. I smiled at him, smooth and controlled, concealing the storm beneath my skin. Every instinct screamed to keep my distance, to maintain the lines I had spent years drawing. And yet, the moment our eyes met — hers and mine — a quiet war began, silent but undeniable. D