The Surrendered Wife Novels & Stories

“Megan, in a marriage, there are roles. And sometimes, one person has to take the lead, especially when things are… challenging. I’m the husband. I’m the provider. It’s my responsibility.” He knelt before her, taking her hands in his. His grip was surprisingly strong, unyielding. “And as my wife, it would make things a lot easier if you were… supportive of that. If you were, perhaps, a little more… submissive to my direction in this.” The word hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. Submissive. It was a word that grated against every fiber of her being, a concept she had always associated with outdated notions of marriage, with the very paternalistic views she had rebelled against.

Squabble all you want, but I won’t care, I told myself. “Go back! We don’t care about you! You’re no mother!” Arnie yelled from the door. “We’re not done! You filthy squatter! Remember this, Sophia! You’re his wife! I’m still the woman he loves! Only me!” Sabrina screamed from outside. “So what, mistress?? Even if you come back forever, I don’t care!!! You deserve to be a mistress! Haay, crazy!” I looked at Arnie. He came closer. “Don’t mind that fool. The important thing… the baby is with you, not her.” I smiled at his words.

And for the first time since they had been together— Vanessa completely abandoned her pride. Slowly, she dropped to her knees in front of Leonard while still holding the crying baby in her arms. Tears continued streaming down her face. “Please don’t leave me…” Leonard’s expression shifted faintly. But not from pity. Only because he felt increasingly suffocated being in this situation. “We can start over,” Vanessa continued desperately. “I’ll change… I won’t get angry anymore… I’ll be a good wife…” Leonard turned his face away briefly.

"How could she hit you so hard? And you just stood there and watched, Jesse. Have you forgotten Sinead is your wife?" I was already a little upset. "She has already married someone else with your approval. Have you forgotten that?" Sinead's mother choked on her words and fell silent. After a while, she spoke again. "But that wasn't real. It was only an act. You're the only one taking it seriously." I rolled my eyes. They had all treated those solemn wedding vows as an act, but I couldn't. In fact, I found it filthy. Besides, it had been five years, and they had never told me about Zachary.

"Which delusion is this one? Delia, you have never been my wife. You and I had an arrangement, a contract, that you would play the part for the family. I told you from the very first day that I was already married. When you say 'our,' you are confusing me, because there was never a 'me and you.' I never deceived you. I was perfectly transparent from the start. Now, it is time you stop dropping the act of being my wife and go back to your father’s house. Your tenure in this fantasy is over. I am not the man you think you have a claim on." Delia shot up from the chair, her hands shaking as she gripped the edge of my desk. She looked like she was about to lose it completely. “What? Just like th

The elevator doors closed. I was still standing there when they opened again and Adrian stepped back out, moving toward the exit. He was halfway across the floor when his eyes found me. He stopped. Then he changed direction and walked straight toward me. "I don't know who you are," he said, his voice low, "but I am going to say this once. Stay away from my wife. Whatever you think is happening here — parading yourself around a married woman like it is acceptable — you should be ashamed of yourself."

At some point, I started tearing up, and my tears were now dampening my cheeks. I was still consumed by my thoughts. In my previous lifetime, it was on this very day that I lost my dignity and reputation as a woman. While I was unconscious, a group of people stormed into the room and woke me up. Before I could realize what was happening, I heard the voice of my husband, Andrew Stone, ringing out icily. "Ella Turner, is this the birthday surprise you prepared for me?" When I tried to get up, I realized that there was an arm around my waist. A sense of unease crept through me, and I heard the repulsive voice of an unfamiliar man asking me, "Did you enjoy yourself?"

he drew in a sharp breath as he sat on his rolling chair and started tapping the pen on the table. The movement calmed his mind a little, "You will be my wife and once you are under my rule, once you have my surname with you, you will surrender to me like a slave to it's master. You will be welcomed into hell, the hell I will design just. For. You. Mrs. Knight!" He pulled out his phone and ordered his whore to come and release his frustration. It didn't take her much time, the girl was just a phone call away. Liam's eyes travelled through her silky body, she was wearing a pink babydoll.

The woman struggles against the guards and they let her go, she crawls to Kiara’s cell and pulls herself up to her knees using the bars of the cell. “I beg you, please. He is only a child, my only child. My husband is dead, I have nothing else to live for if he is taken away from me…Please I beg you!” The woman’s eyes are wild, her hair tattered, her clothes in pieces, her face red and blotchy, smeared with dirt at places that made contact with the ground.

She lifted her head, met his eyes, and smiled the first real, open smile she had given him in three hundred and sixty-five days. “Yes.” He kissed her then slow, reverent and endless. Outside, New York kept moving. Inside, they stayed tangled together until noon, learning the difference between ownership and belonging. And somewhere on a server in Switzerland, a five million dollar transaction reversed itself. Because some things, once surrendered, can never be bought back. End of The Contractual Wife Thank you for reading this!