The Other Wife Book Novels & Stories

He could barely manage one wife, and here in front of him there's a man with seven! "Can you speak a little about each one of them?" Mr. Cuffe manages to ask after recomposing himself. Erik shrugs and replies to the man. "Hmm… Sure. Let's see, in chronological order. My first wife's name is Selena, you already met her, of course, and she is a magical researcher. My second wife's name is Serafall, and she is in charge of Foreign Affairs in her country of origin. My third wife's name is Calypso, she is Greek and has a company that cultivates rare plants. My fourth wife's name is Joan, she is French and takes care of the security of our family business. My fifth wife's name is Leona, she is Ita

On her way out, she was kicking and screaming about proving me wrong. I merely shook my head with a scoff, not taking her seriously. Two years later, I found true love with a young, talented pianist from a prestigious family. With Lynne’s blessing, we had the wedding of the century. Only at that moment did I realize that, since the beginning of time, true romantics often came from those born into privilege. A real connection could only be formed once material needs were met. Meanwhile, Krystal fell into despair when her seventh attempt to kickstart her business went bust. She took her life by stepping off the ledge.

Her voice shook as she spoke to hundreds of thousands of viewers. "My husband and I grew up together. My dad died saving his life. That woman has no shame! She tried to seduce my husband…" I lifted my gaze and looked at Miles, steady and cold. He fumbled and shut the stream off, guilt written all over his face. "She's making things up. You have to trust me." I gave a short, dismissive laugh and picked up my phone, dialing. "Hello, I'd like to file a report for defamation…"

“N-NO!” “You resist one more time, I’d have to cuff you, love.” My body stiffened as I angrily glared at him. He couldn’t be serious. But the swirls of eyes were more than serious. He’d cuff me rendering me helpless once again. My eyes reflected with intense fury and rage. Wife they call me and yet treat me like a whore. Use me whenever their heart desire. “I am your wife!” I cried angry tears rushing down my eyes. Ralph looked amused shaking his head. “Not a whore!”

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.

"I'm here. It's okay." She kept a close eye on my moods, like I might fall apart at any second, and still handled the baby on her own. Just like she said, she was a good wife. A good mother. Maybe she was too good. Maybe that was why I chose the slow kind of pills. I thought I could fade out instead of ending it all at once. The next morning, a loud crash downstairs pulled me out of sleep. I went down and stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Mark had erased her from their life bit by bit, so slowly she hadn't even noticed until it was too late. But now she saw it. She saw everything. Elena Sterling had been the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect doormat for twelve years. Starting today, that was going to change. She opened her laptop and began typing her resignation from this life. Because if Mark wanted her gone, he was about to get his wish. But not the way he expected.

However, the woman ignored James' attempts to stop her and marched into my ward. After looking me up and down a few times, she asked arrogantly, "Are you that country bumpkin wife James married? I'll have you know James and I have registered our marriage officially. How dare a poor peasant from the countryside like you try to ingratiate yourself with a prestigious man like my James? "I advise you not to make a big deal out of this incident. Otherwise, you'll be the one getting detained by the police!" She had a stubborn, rebellious look on her face. However, it was her words that really confused me.

Felt vindicated when Sienna walked in precisely on time, scanned the room like a professional, and spotted me immediately. We were both running from something. She looked different today. Jeans. Simple sweater. Hair in a ponytail. Minimal makeup. Younger. More vulnerable. Her pregnant belly was obvious without the designer dress hiding it. Dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't slept either. "Thank you for coming," I said. "Thank you for calling." We stared at each other. Awkward. What was the protocol for meeting your husband's other wife? The barista appeared. Young guy with a man bun. "What can I get you?"

She would laugh and cry at the same time, holding a doll made from a pillow, showing it off to anyone she saw. "This is my son, Curtis. He's amazing. He's done so many great projects, and got into a top graduate program. Now, he's successful. He's always listened to me. He's such a gentle, outstanding child. You can be jealous all you want. Only I could give birth to a son like him!" Everyone knew why she was there, so no one paid her any attention. As for my father, he never visited her once after everything happened. He lost his job over the scandal and watched his life fall apart overnight.