The German Wife Novels & Stories

"You don't remember the three of us?" She stared around at the three of them, looking for any features she recognized, but there were none. Zion was the largest of the three, and the most fearsome looking with his tattoos and muscled body, but the other two were not small either. The quiet one only looked at her with indifference, though he had a handsome face, she thought as she stared at him. Gunther gave her a weak smile, but she could tell his heart was not in it. Clearly, he wore his heart on his sleeve, making her wonder if he was as annoying as he seemed. When she averted her gaze to the sparks of the fire, she went over what she knew. These three knew her, and she was very important

My buddy, Jayden Jenkins, has come over to my place again to mooch a free meal. It is scorching hot outside, and I am sweating over the stove in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Jayden is lounging in the air-conditioned living room. After biting the tip off a strawberry, he pulls my wife, Willow Simpson, into his arms and casually pops the rest into her mouth. "Here, Willow. Help me finish it," he says with a wicked grin. "It's rare enough that this cheap bastard Caius finally buys strawberries. Now he'll complain that I wasted one if I don't finish it." I wipe the sweat from my forehead and glance toward the living room, just in time to see Willow swallow the half-eaten strawberry. The thing

She could not complete the thought and was aware of nothing more as she slid into unconsciousness. She looked fragile, like the slightest touch would break her, and how he wanted to break her. Gerard glared down at the stranger who was his wife and was eaten up by pure hatred for her. This innocent-looking bitch had destroyed his life and stolen his child. The barely contained violence he felt toward her had been festering for just over two years, and he quite cheerfully would have strangled her in her sleep if it weren’t for the fact that their daughter needed her. He watched her labor to breathe and imagined that it sounded hoarse and ragged. He remembered sounds but sometimes wondered if

I don't want to believe as it and I'll never believe it that Mara, the wife I dot on could go and do such dirty things. My wife is an obedient and submissive, she is gentle, she doesn't talk much, whenever I talk she never talks back and she never look at me directly in my eyes, she always bows her head. I came back from jogging, and met my little wife swaying along with the scent that was coming from the bath. I stood at the doorpost admiring the kind luck I had of having such a wife when she looked back at me sharply. "Hubby.....t..the bath is ready" she stuttered.

"I'll be sending you a bill detailing the full amount Belgard has lost. You'll be held liable." She clearly had not expected that. She had always taken our relationship for granted. Whatever she asked for, I provided without hesitation. I had considered that generosity part of my duty as her fiancé. She, however, treated it as proof that her greed had no limits. What more was there to say? A woman like that did not deserve to become my wife. When I failed to return to the party, the rest of the Vernon family came to Belgard to find me. My grandfather's expression darkened the moment he spotted the IVWA agents.

Nothing like the woman who'd kissed me in the living room weeks ago. This was Gwen the consultant. And it was fascinating to watch. The German couple clearly loved the attention. The woman gestured animatedly, pointing toward the vineyards outside the window, obviously excited about something. Her husband chimed in now and then. That was when Gwen looked up and caught me watching. Our eyes met for a brief moment. She smiled. Not the courteous, professional smile she'd given the couple. This one was softer. More personal. Just for me. She said something to them, probably excusing herself, then walked over.

“Wait, wait, please describe her. I'm sure she isn't here.” I exhaled sharply. “Bruntte hair, 5,6, green eyes.” They both looked at each other and swallowed. “Don't fucking keep me waiting.” My hand was itching to pull the trigger so badly. “She…she's in Germany, sir.” My brows furrowed as I lowered my gun, completely shocked. “She…she's been bought by a German. We're so sorry sir, we had no idea she was your wife…” BANG BANG

"I know." Naomi turned toward the foyer, pausing once at the doorway. "He's not a normal man, Elara." Elara didn't argue. She didn't pretend otherwise. "I'm not a normal wife," she replied. Naomi stared at her for a moment longer, then left. The door closed behind her. Elara stood alone in the foyer again, the house returning instantly to its controlled quiet. The silence here didn't judge. It didn't comfort either. She walked back upstairs slowly, Naomi's words lingering without becoming chaos.

“I’m his wife. Mother of his two kids.” The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. For a moment, everything went silent except for the low hum of the TV. My chest tightened painfully. “His… wife?” I whispered, looking at Richard. “You’re married?” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. The woman his wife stepped closer, her expression twisting into disgust. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you didn’t know. You think a man like him doesn’t have a family? The late nights, the ‘business trips’… you really thought you were special?”

"You?" Left with no choice, I stood straight and waved my hand at her. "Hi, sweetheart." Carlyle tugged Gunther's shirt, squealing. "Daddy, what is she doing here? Is she your new girlfriend?" "No, baby." The disappointment that flashed on Carlyle's face was evident. But, it soon vanished upon hearing his father's next words. "She's my wife now. We got married last night, baby. Meet Agathe Clementine." I drew my breath in surprise. I thought Gunther was going to lie to her daughter. After all, it was the best thing to do.