Romans & histoires The Butcher's Wife Novel

"Did you understand that you can be framed for trying to seduce the last son of the Wigglesworth's family?" "I thought I'm his wife? So what if I seduce him?" The butler didn't expect such response from Brigitta. He thought she would act cowardly like other women. "Well, as his wife, you shouldn't take advantage of him. If the Wigglesworth's family sees a footage of you trying to take advantage of their last son, did you think they will let you go freely?" The butler asked. "But he's my husband. You are just a butler, why don't you let me do my thing?" Brigitta was angry.

"After God, fear women" Claire was dumbstruck. It could not be. Nathan had just married his competitor and she had nothing to say about it. The dinner was about to commence so she had plenty of time to prove Bianca was a fraud. Wrong! She had very little time and she remaining glued to her seat was not going to change anything. Claire stood up and joined the new wife, her suspicion making her unable to keep a smile.

The two brothers looked at her but did not give her the same treatment, as if they were mindful of their relationship. The jealousy exploded inside Norah. She wished she could just smash her cutlery on the table and leave. But then she saw someone walk in. ‘Is she not from the Holmes family?’ Norah did not go to Class B, but she had heard about what happened in the morning. She did not expect to see Snow’s buddy while having a meal here. It looked like God was on her side. With this thought in mind, she called out to Nicole. “This dish also tastes good. Try it.”

He spat up blood and went down, buried under the weight of the carcass. "Holy crap!" I threw the meat off him in a panic and hauled him up by the back of his collar like he weighed nothing. Of course, that was the exact moment the old geezer in the next door butcher store, Tom Walker, came strolling by with a group of idlers in tow. They took one look at the scene and completely lost it. "Well, well, Yvonne. Did you buy yourself a man to keep as a decoration?" "That's no husband, that's a pretty doll. Did the pig carcass just kill him? What terrible luck!"

Close enough to wonder what kind of man carried that story for two years and still got up in the morning looking like stone. “Who took her?” she whispered. His eyes returned to hers. “I don’t know.” The bedroom door unlocked behind them. Slowly. Mrs Vale gasped. Adrian moved instantly, pulling Elena behind him again, but not before she saw the door open by inches. A man’s voice came from the hallway, old and cold and pleased. “Send in the contract wife.”

Outside the restaurant, New York continued its afternoon entirely indifferent to the fact that I was sitting across a dinner table from the most infuriating woman I had ever been in a room with — who was, apparently, going to be my wife. God help me. ******* Thank you for reading. Please like, comment, vote and add to library. Your support means everything. — Ruthie ❤️

she said with a small smile, “that one.” I followed her eyes. The title was etched in gold against the faded green cover: The Perfect Wife: Grace in the Eyes of Society. Clara sighed. “It was written by the second wife of Mr. Kingston’s great-great-grandfather.” My brows lifted. “Second wife?” She nodded, looking at the distance. “Yes. The first wife… she was said to be very different. Full of life. Independent. People say she died from a disease, but…” Clara trailed off, as if remembering she wasn’t supposed to say more.

Raven's pov Chapter 3 — The Butcher Himself The red silk clung to me like a secret I didn’t ask to keep. Every step I took echoed through the marble-floored corridor of the old manor, my heels sharp like gunshots. The Vitali estate was as pretentious as I expected,dark stone, velvet drapes, and chandeliers that looked like they’d seen more blood than light. Fitting. This was the domain of the man they called The Butcher.

“Are you that girl?” Rachel turned, puzzled, to see a woman two beds over pointing a bony finger at her. "Excuse me?" Rachel asked, frowning in confusion. "You’re Nicholas Anthony’s fiancée, right? The shopaholic?" the woman said with a mocking grin, her tone dipped in scorn. "Shopaholic?" Rachel felt her face burn, her ears going red. "You pawned your parents' house certificate just for shopping? You’re *impossible*..." the woman scoffed, shaking her head and barely containing her laughter.

She gave me a reassuring look. "I know this 'The Butcher' guy. He's all bark, no bite. Probably just a big misunderstanding." A misunderstanding? An icy dread settled over me as I met Caroline's gaze. At that moment, my phone buzzed once more. With shaking hands, I clicked on the cursed link to the second-hand site. Adrian, known as 'The Butcher,' had left another furious comment. [Damn it! The house is empty. What is this? A bait-and-switch?]