Secrets Of The Neglected Wife Novel Novels & Stories

"Your husband would be devastated to see you like this. Married pussy taking six executives at once to close a deal. How does that make you feel?" Tears streamed down my face, mixing with sweat. "So ashamed. I am a terrible wife." “But you love it, don't you? Don't worry, your husband doesn't have to know about your darkest secrets.” They moved me against the glass wall overlooking the city. My breasts pressed against the cool surface as Victor took my pussy again from behind, while Derek claimed my ass and Murphy used my mouth. Nina and Vivian touched and teased me constantly. My body betrayed me, completely clenching and dripping around their cocks as pleasure consumed me.

Beside it hung yesterday’s clothes, still draped carelessly over the chair exactly where I had dropped them after finally dragging myself home sometime after midnight. I pulled up the news. THE HAWTHORNE DECEPTION: CEO SEBASTIAN HAWTHORNE’S FIVE-YEAR SECRET MARRIAGE EXPOSED. Then another. WHO IS THE MYSTERY MRS. HAWTHORNE? Another. SECRET WIFE STUNS HIGH SOCIETY. I scrolled down. Then I scrolled again. Nothing. Everyone had something to say. Except…no one seemed interested in the actual reason I’d been standing on that stage.

Not for a single second. He saw a convenient wife. A woman who asked for nothing. Who endured everything. Who was so desperate to be loved that she made herself small enough to fit into his life. He had a mistress for two years and he never once suspected that his wife might have secrets of her own. Because he never looked. He never asked. He never cared. She thought about her family. About her father, August Valancourt, who had warned her not to marry Kier, her mother, Isabelle, who had said love shouldn't always be hard and her brother who was probably worried sick about her right now.

"Pour the drink, Hannah. And then you can crawl back to your sofa. We have business to discuss. The kind of business that requires a wife who knows when to be invisible." As I tilted the bottle, the amber liquid splashing into the glass, I realized the terrifying irony of my life. Being his wife was the reason I was trapped, but it was also the reason I was dangerous. As his spouse, I had spent three years learning his secrets. I knew the passwords he reused for every account. I knew the names of the "consultants" he paid in cash at the marina. I knew where he kept the burner phones for his midnight talks with Grace’s father. He thought this marriage was a cage he’d locked me in. He didn't r

Pale against his flushed skin. He'd worn it like a medal for fifteen years. The day he'd saved her from that thug. The day he'd proven he'd bleed for her. He'd told that story a hundred times. "This scar? That's the day I knew I'd marry her." And now? He remembered the elevator. Her face — exhausted, hollow-eyed, lips cracked. He'd walked past her with his arm around Rosa. Didn't even recognize his own wife. "She's not what you think. There's more to it than you know."

On the contrary, I did not find it embarrassing to be washing my wife's undergarments. However, for the first time ever, I felt an agonizing pain shoot through me. There were visible milky stains on Winona's underwear. It was clear that this man could better satisfy Winona. I resisted the urge to cry and interrogate Winona over the phone. Perhaps I was mistaken. I wanted to hide myself away in denial, but the stains right before my eyes kept reminding me that my wife cheated on me. For the first time, I felt extremely useless and powerless. Still, I chose to live in denial.

Knowing his father, he might need something from her. She was nervous and wondering, but she didn’t want his dad to notice it. She shrugged her shoulders as an answer. Then she remembered their maids whom she paid to shut up. She felt annoyed because they all made a promise that they won’t tell it. In her mind, she was betrayed.