Secrets Of The Neglected Wife Novel Romane & Geschichten

He grabbed her arm again, leading her out and this time, she didn't resist…she was broken. Back inside, the chaos hasn't ended. Grandfather Jonathan’s voice cut through it. “Enough.” The room quieted immediately. “What is going on?” he demanded looking at Damien and Ava. Ava stepped forward, her hands clenched slightly. “My marriage with Adrian…” she began, “…was never what it should have been.” Her voice softened but didn’t break, “And now… I’ve chosen differently.” Marie stood up immediately…Her chair scraped loudly against the floor. “You’re a witch,” she spat.

Alexander blindsided through his father, with Richard already forming a position before Alexander had drawn a breath, was something else entirely. I sat back in my chair. Somewhere across the city, on Birch Street, above a bakery, a woman who had called herself a contract wife was building a quiet life around a secret that was already visible to anyone who looked closely enough. She had no idea how many people were looking. I picked up the wine glass and touched it to my lips and thought about what came next with the focused, unhurried patience of a woman who had learned that the best damage was not the damage you rushed. It was the damage you waited for.

For a life that did not extend far beyond what I could see. I had been wrong. The question forming in my chest now was not comfortable. If the Vale connections had been inside the Blackwood expansion three years ago, before the divorce, before any of this, then what exactly had I been looking at while I was married to her? What had been right in front of me? And how had I missed it? The whiskey glass was still in my hand. Still barely touched. I set it down on the nearest surface without looking. My mind was doing the thing it did when numbers didn't balance. When a deal had a detail out of place. Pulling threads. Running timelines. Reconstructing.

But he didn't feel the burn. He couldn't breathe. His heart completely stopped beating for a second. The woman on the TV screen... the new billionaire boss of the Rathore Empire... the powerful woman who just declared war on his company... It was Kiara. His boring, poor, rejected wife.

Outside, the Friday afternoon was doing its ordinary things, the sound of the street, a delivery vehicle, someone's music from a window above. I thought about Vivian in the restaurant bathroom. The precision of her. The financial offer delivered with the smooth assurance of someone who believed that all problems had a price and that knowing the price was a form of sophistication. She had looked at me, a woman hiding a pregnancy and living in a borrowed room and married on paper to a man who had not spoken to her in days, and she had seen something that could be managed. She had not been wrong that I was vulnerable. She had been wrong about what I would do with it.

NOTE THAT THIS BOOK IS FICTION. SO, DON'T COMMUNICATE THIS BOOK'S ACTIONS TO REAL LIFE. ..... Seven years ago…. Inside the grand bedroom, a small figure was asleep on the bed, it wasn't long before her eyes swung open. She stared blankly at the environment, even though she has spent five years of her life here, it still feels extremely awkward to her. In a Mansion where she was unwanted, and the servants even looked down upon her…. Indeed she was the unwanted wife of the Mansion, she finally realised why she was married into the Mansion in the first place. The man she has always loved and admired secretly all these years, he never even looked her up in the eyes, not even once. Never have she

I said, looking at her questionably before the speaker was turned off. ABIGAIL'S POV I was busy admiring my husband as he spoke. I hadn’t seen him this serious before. I was still admiring him when I heard him say a love letter. I don’t know why but my heart became heavy. “So, all those bunch of letters were from ladies that work here?” I mumbled under my breath cursing whoever it was that wrote those letters. I mean how dare they do that…to their boss?...my husband? I was still cursing them in my mind when I heard him about to introduce me as his wife. I immediately faked a cough before he could continue.

The entire room was holding its collective breath as he spoke the words that destroyed my world into smithereens. "Wait…," he stuttered, stunned. "I recognize you." I could sense Nicholas's body tauten beside me. Vincent stepped forward, his gaze on my face as if to confirm his deduction. "You're… you're Patrick Hilton's ex-wife. The slave wife." Those Words stabbed me like a knife. There was silence in the room. Silence that killed. Then there was muttering. "Patrick Hilton's slave wife?" "Marry him on a contract?" "Is she? She was a servant?"

I tell her. When I got back, I checked out joint account to see if I needed to send her anymore money, imagine my shock when I realize she hasn’t spent a cent of it in years. “I’ve noticed you haven’t used the money from our joint account.” I mention. She nods. “Yes, I got an admin job a few years ago after I got my degree, so I’ve been using that money for groceries.” She says looking down at her hands. I sigh, not saying anything. Olivia always assumes she’s a bother to me. Though we’ve only spent one night together and made our daughter, she’s still my wife and I’ve been faithful to her.