Seven Wives Book Novels & Stories

Wylie said, "Who wants your wealth? You can enjoy your money and live your life, so why covet Elliot? Why disrupt my plans?" Janine sneered. "I am the eldest and the president of the Shaw Corporation. I exceed you in all aspects: appearance, ability, family background. If someone like you dares to covet Elliot, why can't I? What makes you think you're better than me?" Wylie was almost boiling with rage. "He doesn't like you at all!" Janine chuckled. "If he doesn't like me, he likes you even less!" "I'm going to tell Sophia about you coveting her husband. Let's see how she deals with you."

I decided not to be too worried and just waited for him in the study room, when a sewing book of his caught my attention and I could help but take it. I opened the book, and it was a drawing book, and it was filled with different things you wouldn’t expect to find in a book, and I noticed that he only drew things he loved. There, amidst the drawings of flowers and landscapes, were the names of his three wives. Each name had a flower and a heart drawn beside it, symbolizing his love for them. I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as I looked at those pages. It was a reminder that I was not the only woman in his life.

Her fingers shook as she picked it up. She'd always known the passcode. Never used it—until now. On his chat app, she opened a group thread with his buddies: [Jared, 1000 days of celibacy today, right? You have to come out and celebrate!] [No way. Three years married and still no action?] [Lucia might be a bumpkin, but with that face and body? You've seriously held back?] [Obviously. He made that vow to Alice—stay pure for her. Jared's never broken a promise to Alice.]

So he could rest knowing I would be fine even after he was gone. That was why I found this woman and married her. A woman I neither knew nor cared to know. She had simply shown interest in me, and after asking my secretary to look into her background, I learned she’d had six husbands in total. The first had died; she divorced the other five, moving from man to man. Most importantly, she had a daughter, eighteen years old. According to my secretary, this woman married only for money. Once she found someone richer, she discarded the previous husband without a second thought.

Mine had already drained away, replaced by something colder, heavier—worry. My thoughts spun as I stared out the window. I couldn’t keep clashing with him like this. That ridiculous book, The Perfect Wife, flashed through my mind—its chapters on handling dominant men. Softness. Vulnerability. Subtle rebellion. A woman with fire, but without the flames. Sweet enough to draw in. Dangerous enough to chase.

His wife, when discovering another case, burned his clothes that he liked so much, even though she always forgave him, Damon, he even refuses, to convince her husband for them to have a child, he tries to satisfy her with dogs, cats, filling the house, both were cute and fluffy. He liked the way she was, that she could get what she wanted, that she acted differently, manipulating her worthy of a soap opera, they were sweet, if you weren't in love with her, you would want to vomit, these were the frequent letters, from the which he delivered both to his countless mistresses and to his wife.

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.

“People talk about how violent ghettos are, but don’t realize how scary it is around the wealthy. No one’s family gets as rich as the people I know, from being good Christians and loving the world.” “Really?” Her cheeks rose as she grinned. He immediately loved the way her whole face lit up with excitement. “Really. There’s a whole lot of rich people who are seriously corrupt individuals.” “Okay. Then prove it,” she said. “Tell me what’s the craziest gossip you’ve ever heard among the rich and twisted.” “You mean something crazier than two brothers playing mind games with women?” “Yes. Even wackier.” “I know a man who has four wives. And with each wife, he has kids with them. The worst part

Even pretending began to feel like a burden to him. Instead, he called his assistant and laid down a rule—cold, calculated, almost absurd. A house under my name for every affair. A set of rare jewelry whenever one of his lovers got pregnant. We'd dated for eight years and married for four. Now I had 99 properties under my name and was the owner of 98 sets of jewelry. The other elites' wives envied me. Christian made a good show of him being a generous husband. Unbeknownst to them, this marriage was rotten from the inside.