The Cherished Wife Novel Novels & Stories

Jena looked at her from head to toe again “Huh?” Nuella was confused “You look like someone whose strength was drained out, you look pale” Jena smiled Nuella coughed when she finally understood what she meant “If I’m so drained out right now it is the hand work of My Haywood” s Jena smiled “He is your husband now, so no need to be embarrassed” “It’s so I could get pregnant” Nuella murmured Jena heard what she said and sighed “I don’t think it’s only the reason, somewhere deep down in his heart he might have some likeness for you which made him choose you”

Alina shook her head faintly. “No.” A pause. “I’m just no longer pretending it didn’t hurt.” Silence. Heavy. Then Lucien noticed something else. Ethan was watching from across the room. Waiting. Patient. Interested. Something dark moved instantly through Lucien’s expression again. Possessiveness. Sharp and immediate. “She’s still my wife,” he said suddenly. Alina looked at him for a long second. Then calmly replied, “Only on paper.” That answer hit him harder than expected. Because she said it without emotion.

"The arrangement was always for you to marry Miguel Antonio. That was the deal we struck with his family. A wife is a wife, Mara. It doesn't matter which sister he gets. The merger goes through either way." I felt like I couldn't breathe. "A wife is a wife?" I whispered. "Mother, he doesn't want me. He wanted Clara. This entire marriage is built on a lie, on deception. How am I supposed to live with that? How am I supposed to wake up every morning next to a man who didn't choose me, who thought he was getting someone else?"

Just enough. Elena pushed the contract towards him. “My mother first.” “Tonight,” he said. “And I’m not your toy.” His gaze lifted to hers. Dark. Steady. Close enough now that she could see a faint scar cutting through one eyebrow. “No,” he said. “You’re my wife.” The word hit harder than it should have. Wife. Her pulse stumbled. Adrian held out his hand, then paused. “May I?” The question was quiet. Almost private.

Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed. “You've called me three times in twenty minutes.” “I had a reason.” “What happened?” There was a pause. Then the woman on the other end spoke. “I'm coming home in a few days.” Evelyn sat up. “What?” “You heard me. I'll be back in a few days.” “You said you weren't coming back yet.” “I changed my mind.” Evelyn stood. “Why?” The woman's voice became serious. “Because I just heard Damien Schrett is getting married.”

It cares about public degradation. On Friday morning, I am going to march into that courthouse and show my runaway wife exactly what happens when she tries to burn down my kingdom to build a life with a laborer. I will take her career, her status, and whatever dignity she thinks she has left, and I will leave her with absolutely nothing. _____

“The hotel has been successful for several decades. I wouldn’t change anything if you want it to remain successful.” She took another bite of her bruschetta. She seemed a lot calmer around me, probably because I’d done her a huge favor without her even having to ask me. I’d proven my worth to her, and now she realized how useful I could be. I could be really useful in the bedroom too…which she already knew. “Is your mother going to give you away?” I couldn’t wait to see her in her wedding dress, to see how beautiful she was as she glided toward me because I wanted the world to be envious of me, to watch the most stunning woman in the world agree to be my wife.

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.

"Wounded, maybe. Grieving. But never broken." The kiss that follows feels like redemption, like coming home to a place you never knew you were searching for. It starts soft, tentative— a question being asked and answered simultaneously. But when she melts against me with a sigh that sounds like relief made audible, something pure and possessive unfurls in my chest. This is my wife. My woman for life. The woman who trusted a masked stranger with her pain, who saw past violence and danger to something worth saving, who chose to build a life with me despite every rational reason to run.

And for the first time in weeks, the hound dog seemed to surrender for only a brief moment, let himself bask in the tender ministrations of someone who proclaimed to love him. And Alex saw his tail begin to thump. The tiny motion was lost on his wife, who warmed herself in front of the fire with two wounded, lost souls beside her. She gave for no gain of her own, no goal she needed to reach. Love was not a prize but something she owned inside and shared freely. Every night she took him deep into her body and held nothing back. The woman who was his wife was a fierce, proud creature who both shattered and humbled him, and he realized in the glimmer of firelight, that he loved her. He was in l