The Widow Book Reviews Novels & Stories

"The security droids are idling. The loop is holding, but the core processor is starting to purge the memory. You have three minutes before the house wakes up." "I don't need three minutes," Dante replied. I heard the muffled thud of a flash-bang from the floor above, followed by the rhythmic, clinical pop-pop of his suppressed .45s. He wasn't auditing; he was clearing the ledger. I reached the server vault a chamber of pulsing crimson light that looked like the interior of a heart. And there, sitting in a high-backed chair of spun glass, was the discrepancy I had been hunting. The Widow. She didn't look like a ghost. She looked like a queen in exile. Her hair was a shock of silver, pulled b

The details surrounding her miscarriage remain shrouded in uncertainty, leaving her grappling with unanswered questions and a deep sense of sorrow. In her room, Nora feels the weight of her solitude pressing upon her. The absence of support and understanding from those she had once hoped to find solace in leaves her feeling utterly abandoned. She yearns for someone to hold her, to listen without judgment, and to offer comfort in her darkest moments. But in the depths of her despair, she finds herself completely and entirely alone, left to navigate the depths of her pain in solitude. Terry Nashville sits in his cabin, lost in his thoughts, when his younger brother Jay enters the office, sendi

The spin-off of ‘My Indian Wife. But till then, you are welcome to join my other book "Billionaire's Mistress Is A Hidden Heiress' to experience the other shades of love. Again, a big thank you for giving a chance to my book! I never thought I’d come this far, but you all made it possible. If you liked this story, please leave a review to help the book reach new readers. Goodbye is boring so until we meet again, Sayonara!! Author Anika

"Where is the widow now? She has run off and abandoned you two here. Yet you claim that I am the foolish one. Did you even know that she is Willow, the old king's ex—wife?" A dark chuckle erupted from his lips and my angry rants stopped. "You think I didn't know?" He asked as he slowly turned to stare at me. "You think I didn't know who she was? Behind that veil is a woman who has been hurt by her kind... A woman who is ready to do whatever it takes to get her revenge... A woman I am happy to be working with! And mark my words, she will be the only animal I spare when I get out of here!"

Feby asked at length to resolve what was churning inside her chest right now. Feby blinked softly. Trying to read the look on Widya's face. She looked at the elegant woman carefully to find any irregularities that might be hidden. Unfortunately, there was nothing suspicious in sight. As for Widya? Without changing her gentle gaze she replied, “It is enough for me to control what is in this heart. I hope you do too, Feb. It's useless to keep talking about feelings. Happiness for our children is much more important, isn't it?” Ares was right. Widya would not harm him. What happened was the opposite. Her husband's first wife gave her a lot of advice on how to behave as his favorite woman. She d

I gently kiss her cheek and whispered, sweet nothing. "If God gives me a chance, I'll do the same thing over and over again as long as it's you. You give a reason to live, my dear, Maria." She's worth all of these sacrifices. She's everything to me now. I love her. Yes, I love Maria. The only woman who makes me feel that I'm an amazing man. The only man she needs, I never felt this way before...even to my wife. Everything doesn't matter to Maria. She loved all of me; she loves my son. And most importantly, she was always there whenever I need her, whenever I needed solace.

After the funeral I stayed a few days in Bandung. My late husband's family home. The mother-in-law who loves me and the brothers and sister-in-law who love me so much were tried to entertaint me. None of them ever left me alone. There was always someone who stood by and comforted me from the midst of grief. It was bitter, though. I am, Gendis Pravita Chua, must be a widow at 27 years of age. Single-handedly raised a child in my womb. Yes fearless. I can't stand it.

His fingers were large, calloused, and hot. “You’ve been out in the wild,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the patch of dark curls visible beneath the sheer fabric. He wasn't judging, he was mesmerized. I swallowed hard, my core clenching in anticipation. “Yes. I was running.” “Running towards peace, you said.” He took his hand away quickly, as if burned. He retreated slightly, running a hand through his dark hair. “A Luna shouldn’t have to run.” “I told you before, I’m not your Luna, Jerry. I’m Max’s widow.” The words were automatic, a safety mechanism, but they tasted like ash tonight. I wanted him to argue. I wanted him to say I am your Alpha, and you are mine.

Chapter 3-The Widow’s refusal Marriage. The word echoed through her ears and mind. It didn’t make any sense. She was still in mourning. According to psychologists, widows tend to suffer a small stage of delirium through their grief. Victoria posed what she just heard as that—her mind playing games with her. “Toria.” Her mother muttered from behind her, “It’s for the best. Marrying Vincent is for— “Marriage?” She cut her off, “This isn’t a joke?!”

I reached up and touched my chin; it was still warm where he had pinched it. This road to widowhood seemed far more difficult than I had expected.