The English Wife Book Novels & Stories

Chapter 1: A Rich Man's Wedding Poor Waitress Turned Billionaire Wife The cameras flashed like a firing squad. The Champagne exploded like the start of a war. The story had spread like wildfire. A tale of what resilience, luck and a little cleavage could buy you. From serving him coffee at a five-star restaurant to bearing his last name. Marilyn Lancaster— now Marilyn Fontaine, stood beside her new husband, Victor Fontaine. The forty-eight year old business tycoon, and flashed her signature red-lipped smile.

I’m such a bad wife. . A. Gupta

Days turned into months, still Adrian remained distant, controlled as always. To him, the marriage was nothing more than a family arrangement. He believed his wife was Alessia Vale, the spoiled, selfish heiress the world whispered about. Yet he couldn’t ignore the fact that the woman he married... she was different. Calm. Observant. Quietly intelligent.

Did I hear that right? She was threatening me? Ever since we got married, I worked from home and barely showed up at the company. She figured I was jobless, living off her—throwing me a thousand bucks a month so I wouldn't starve. I never touched it. Everything I wore, everything I owned—it was all custom. She just couldn't tell. So to her, I was just some stray waiting for scraps. "Talia, I'm not interested in your pocket change."

“But why don’t I, your wife, get that same treatment?” The room exploded into frantic whispers. Necks craned and eyes darted between the three of them. Elena soaked it in, chin held high. “Since we’re doing introductions: I am Elena Jeffery, Anthony’s wife. And that woman over there? She's just the mistress.” Standing off to the side, Becky didn't hide her triumph; a slow, dark smile spread across her lips.

"Uhmm, okay. Who are you, please?" My smile faltered, but I kept it plastered there. It felt like my skin was going to crack. "Don't you remember me? I am your brother's wife." Elizabeth leaned against the gate, a small, confused smile on her lips. "Okay... name?" "Name of what?" I asked, the panic starting to rise in my throat. "The brother?" I felt like I was speaking a different language. "What’s going on? I am Chadwick's wife. You came for our wedding and you gave me your address in case I needed anything!"

I’m just your wife…" Sophia’s POV: Yes, I’m only a wife on paper. Legally bound, but not in the way we live our lives. Seven years have passed… and nothing has changed between us. Except that I no longer need to work to fund my studies or feed my family. I live in a beautiful home and no longer fear my father, who does nothing but drink and hurt people.

Damn her! "Then," She continued her words from where she stopped, "Edwin faked an accident that killed his family, but in the actual sense, there was no accident. He ruined the family because he had a taste for power, and he needed their wolves. I don't know how the daughter and wife managed to escape." Wait, did she just say the wife escaped? How's that possible? Who is the wife? Where is my mother? She let out her laughter again and raised her head proudly, "Yes, the wife is alive."

She folded her arms across her chest, scanning our home and all of us. "I must ask the same question. What are you doing in my house with my husband? How dare you replace yourself with me?" She was desperate but tried to look confident. I pitied her. "This is Edward's house, not yours! And I'm his wife." She laughed madly and approached me, facing me in the eyes. "You are just his little whore. I let him have fun with you but I decided to come back to my loving husband." My fingers curled, "Your loving husband? Don't make me laugh, Elenore. Is it why you wore this sl*tty dress? To seduce him?"

His voice was confident. “That’s rich coming from a man who has no idea what his wife is up to right now.” She sneered at him. Her sneer almost looked like a smile, like she was smiling with malice. “You know, the English call this gossip. I know you are obsessed with my wife, but can we stop talking behind her back? It’s not very classy for people of our status. “YOUR WIFE,” she stressed, “Is locked in an elevator at this minute with my husband, doing God knows what.”