Romans & histoires The Perfect Wife's Revenge

It was why she was panicking. "David, please," her voice shifted, dropping into that sickeningly sweet, pitiful tone she used when she wanted something. "I’ve been so good. I’ve been taking care of everything. The staff, the social calendar, Camilla’s schooling... I’ve been the perfect wife." My jaw tightened. Perfect wife? The image of her flashed in my mind — wearing Alice’s ring, holding Alice’s daughter, poisoning herself with medication, just to frame the woman I loved.

********** He felt her hands circle round his waist as he dropped the call. “What did he say?” Selena asked, her voice sweet and seductive “He’s going to do it” Alfred replied. His eyes held something…..not regret but not victory either. “That's what we have always wanted, right?” Selena asked, her voice slightly wavering. He nodded…..just one nod. It felt…..uncertain. “Talk to me babe, what's wrong?” She said, her hands wrapping round his neck. “She was my wife, Selena. This is murder we are talking about here” he said slowly

“What are you doing Skyla.? Are you out of your mind.?! Paul screamed at me tossing the pills into his pockets. “Yes.! I'm out of my mind. And guess what.? The only way i can get back my senses is dying.! I screamed back at him. He sighed deeply and began to say something, but i didn't hear him as the effects of the drugs began to kick in and i fell asleep. The next morning, i woke up with a splitting migraine. I struggled to get out of bed when my door swung open. It was Jason. The husband I've tried so much to hate. “What are you doing here.? After all you've done to me. No apology. Am i even your wife.?! I asked in anger my eyes turning red. He scoffed. “Apology.? I owe you no damned apol

“The other woman? Bethany raised her eyebrows. Daphne sauntered her around, "Why, aren't you the other woman? You know that Zayn and Danica have a marriage contract, but you've been pestering him. Isn't this a typical mistress?" Bethany seemed to hear the big joke, crossed her arms, and laughed, "There are all kinds of "Nuts" in this world nowadays. The real mistress said that someone else was the one. It was the first time I saw it. Ms.Dean, have you forgotten how you became the legal wife?"

Mira laughed, sliding into his shirt like the lover she clearly thought she was. "Yes. My house. I'm his wife, and this house belongs to me." "Poor you. You still think you're a wife." She smirked, dripping with confidence. "News flash, sweetie. You were never one." I looked at Adrian, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He stayed quiet. He didn't even bother looking at me. "What the hell is she talking about, Adrian." My voice shook. "Did you ever stop to ask yourself why he married you and never once showed you love? This man abuses you constantly and your weak self just stays." She sat herself right on his lap like she belonged there.

Mine had already drained away, replaced by something colder, heavier—worry. My thoughts spun as I stared out the window. I couldn’t keep clashing with him like this. That ridiculous book, The Perfect Wife, flashed through my mind—its chapters on handling dominant men. Softness. Vulnerability. Subtle rebellion. A woman with fire, but without the flames. Sweet enough to draw in. Dangerous enough to chase.

“No, don't say that. You’re going to be fine, I promise.” “I don’t think I ever want to be fine, Elena. I’m tired. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of being the wife of my husband.” She replied, completely frustrated and hopeless. I leaned in. “Then fight. Fight and make sure you stay alive to deal with your husband accordingly. That is the best revenge you can ever have against him because if you die now, you would’ve suffered for nothing.” She sighed. “Oh, Elena, how in the hell do I begin to do that?”

"We aren't a rebellion, Ivy. We aren't a one-night stand. If you let this happen... if you let us touch you... we don't stop. Do you understand? We don't share." "But my husband..." "Fuck your husband," Dante spat. "He forfeited his rights the moment he touched another woman." Silas’s thumb brushed my bottom lip. "Last chance, Ivy. The door is unlocked." I looked at the door. I pictured my life outside. The cold dinners. The fake smiles. The scent of other women on Grant’s shirts. Then I looked at them. The heat. The intensity. The obsession. "I don't want the door," I whispered.

"I'll bear the consequences, but I won't sacrifice my integrity. Love should be genuine, not a weapon used to hurt others. I can’t destroy a happy family. I can’t wreck children’s happiness for having a complete family,” “Hmm… is that so?” The old woman’s eyes gleamed with cunning as she summoned the housemaids, her voice laced with desperation. "Bring my husband here," she commanded, her tone a mix of concern and victimhood. Mr. Reign was wheeled into the room, his frail form evident after his heart attack, Mrs. Reign let out a dramatic gasp, her hand pressed against her heart. "Look at him, Cindy, Jadah! Look at what you've done. Your refusal to cooperate has taken a toll on his health. We