The Poisonous Wife Novels & Stories

“How could you? She’s your wife, and you didn't know someone wanted to poison her?” I staggered back, my heart beating so fast that it drowned out every other noise. “P-poison? What are you talking about?” “Yes, she was poisoned. The same poison was used on me as well. The poison that is only possible if it was someone close. Someone in your household.” She looked at both of us intensely. “Someone in your household poisoned her and killed the babies.” My father and I looked at each other slowly, and he shook his head, his eyes wide.

he continued, his tone measured, “that you would kill the man responsible for your wife’s pregnancy.” His eyes held mine with unsettling steadiness. “I have given you a name. Roman. Will you make good on your promise?” My body refused to respond. Muscles locked. Breath stalled. Words dissolved before they could form. “I don’t believe you,” I whispered hoarsely. “Dahlia was—” “Already losing her mind,” he finished for me. The words struck harder than any blow. “I will spare you the trouble of denial,” he continued. “Penelope had been poisoning your wife long before the accident. Slowly and methodically. You did not notice the signs because you neither looked nor knew what to look for.”

She looked exactly like a good wife. It turned out everything had been made up. Every business trip had been fake. Maybe guilt had gotten to her, so she had used an even more obvious cover, trying to make me feel loved while making herself look like a good wife. Every dish served at the reception was expensive, but none of it tasted like anything to me. When it was time to make the rounds for the toast, they came to our table. Sinead looked a little awkward, and so did the friends around her. Still, they all played along well enough. One of Sinead's timid friends almost called me by name, but Sinead stopped her in time.

"You—you! What do you think you're doing?! I'll call the cops for harassment!" I yanked up her sleeve, revealing the familiar mole on her wrist. A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "Still pretending? I'm your husband, Hilary. I know every inch of your body. Most importantly, why are you pretending not to know me?" Her expression darkened, lips pressed tightly as she glared at me. "Husband? Are you insane? Keep this up and I'll scream for help." I chuckled coldly. "Go ahead. Let everyone hear. Let's see if they believe me—or better yet, we'll let your new man come and see for himself."

A week ago, the news broke that I'd filed a lawsuit against my wife of more than 20 years, Hazel Cooper, the woman who had shared my bed and my life for over half my adulthood. From that moment on, I became the neighborhood's favorite villain. Everyone called me the heartless man who had climbed his way to success and abandoned his wife and child without remorse. In their eyes, Hazel was flawless. She'd married me when I was poor and struggling. She never complained, even when life was hard. She cared for my sickly mother until her final days. She raised our son almost entirely on her own and turned him into a top student, the kind every family boasted about.

He had portrayed Jean as a pitiful woman who had suffered emotional abuse from her husband and had been deceived by my corrupt behavior. Jean had also tearfully accused me, "I had been in love with Felix for years, yet I never knew he was this kind of person. He would usually give me the silent treatment. I could even put up with his occasional physical abuse. But I never expected that he would embezzle and misappropriate company property. I absolutely cannot allow myself to be the wife of a criminal." As I watched Jean accuse me and fabricate things that I didn't do, and the immense harm I had supposedly brought to her and our family, I just let out a mocking smile.

They knew me as their boss's wife, but today, there was something different in their gazes. "Good morning" "Good morning, Madam," they chorused in response. But as I made my way through the elevator, their uneasy stares followed me. Their smiles seemed strained. I ignored their behaviors until I caught snippets of whispered conversations that sent a chill down my spine. “She’s so pitiful, don’t you think? She has no idea what her husband is doing,” one voice murmured, followed by another adding, “Maybe the rumors about her being a bitch are true. That’s why our boss can’t stand her anymore.”

he shouted, fury flashing in his eyes. Kevin looked equally hostile. At that moment, all I could think about was putting an end to these two. There was no room for words. I swung my fist again, but this time, Mark caught my punch. "Jason, if you keep this up, I won't hold back." Mark squeezed my fist while narrowing his eyes, a cold glint flashing in them. "How dare you mess around with my wife! I'm gonna kill you!" I struggled against his grip, my face twisted in frustration.

He scanned the bottle’s contents which had a large danger sign on it, afterwards, he looked straight at me. “So it’s true then. Had it not been for Caitlin, I would have been dead by now.” I shook my head worriedly. “I don’t understand any of this, Cillian. What is going on?” He yelled. “Don’t ask me that when you know very well what has just happened. You dare to poison me. You dare to connive with my chef to have me killed for what exactly?” His words made me know that it was the poison bottle in my bag that made him think I was the one who did it. I know nothing about that. I don’t even know how the bottle got there, and why on earth’s name would I try to poison my husband?

"Poison" Fred's eyebrows furrowed "what?" " Your wife was poisoned, Mr Frederick. She didn't consume that much so we were able to quickly do something before it spread and.. you know, cause more damage " Fred sighed out of relief and collapsed on the chair beside him. He really thought he had lost her. He literally almost went crazy. "I want you to give her the best treatment you can"