The Wife He Never Chose Novels & Stories

He couldn’t keep his hands off his wife, even if it was to save his life. Nicole was still the most amazing woman he had ever met. He would choose her over and over again in this life and beyond. She was everything he never knew he needed, and he would forever be grateful that she had taken a chance on an asshole like him. ***

"She's not doing anything to us, we're doing it to ourselves." "Because of her, because she's here..." "Because we don't know how to handle it." "There's nothing to handle, you just need to choose." "I have chosen, I chose you..." "You chose both of us, you're trying to keep us both happy and it's destroying everything." He moved closer, grabbed my face. "I chose you, you're my wife." "Then act like it." "I am..." "You're not, if you were she wouldn't be here."

The faint hope he once held was steadily dissolving as she grew more outstanding with every passing day. Selfishly, he thought he should have confined her back then. He even felt a trace of regret—that when forced to choose between Edward and Adriana, he had chosen Edward. Otherwise, he could have been the one standing proudly beside her now, telling the world that this outstanding woman was his wife. But perhaps… he was never worthy of that. From the moment he coerced his grandmother into helping him obtain her, he had already lost the right. Neo's gaze was heavy with sorrow, his emotions tightly restrained.

His words carried the weight of truth, heavier than any ledger or alliance. “You must be certain,” he continued. “Not only that this choice strengthens the family, but that it strengthens you. A wife is not a shadow to be hidden, nor a jewel to be polished. She is the one who will stand beside you when the world turns against you. Do you truly want this girl?” I thought of Ciara’s eyes in the photograph. Quiet, unyielding. A strength born not of privilege, but of survival. “Yes,” I said. My voice was steady, certain. “I do.”

I could imagine his expression perfectly. “Fine. You want the truth?” I asked, lowering my voice. “Yes,” he said softly. “Well… before I ever met you, I was looking for a wife,” I admitted. “Not a husband. A wife. That was the plan. But then you came along and everything turned upside down. The moment I saw your picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. When you barged into my office instead of your sister, something inside me just… shifted. I call you Wife because you’re the one I’ve been waiting for all this time. It’s not about making you sound feminine. It’s about the role you’ve taken in my life. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll stop.”

But right now, every line of his body screams fury. His eyes cut to me for a single second just long enough for me to see something there. Something conflicted. Something tense. Then he looks at her again. “Never,” he says, voice low and lethal, “speak to Aliya like that again.” Her eyes widen. “Kai” “She is my wife.” His tone sharpens, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “I chose her.” My breath catches. Nelima recoils like he struck her. “You you didn't choose her. This was arranged, your father”

“Took you long enough to figure that out. Yes. I killed that little shit and his wife. His wife was supposed to be mine. That bitch chose my younger brother instead, and they made me lose the company. Do you know what my mother said? Whoever marries her takes over the company. She had been promised to me. Engaged. And she chose him. So I sent them both to go fuck each other in hell.” I could not breathe. The air in the room felt thick. My hands hung at my sides. I had punched him twice, and I could not lift them again. “As for your wife,” he went on, “I chose her because she is easy to control. Pretty enough. Hungry enough. Stupid enough to believe I would give her anything that lasted. She

A small crack. A piece of truth. His Answer A beat. Then, calmly: “You won’t.” The certainty in his voice surprises me. Not dramatic. Not emotional. Just… decided. Like he has already reached that conclusion. And nothing will change it. The Shift He walks closer. Not invading my space. Not overwhelming. But close enough that I feel it— The shift in the air. “This marriage was my decision,” he says quietly. “They will adjust.” The words should feel cold. Practical.

Stupid. I waited. That's what I was good at. Waiting for him to notice me, to choose me, to love me back. I'd been waiting since I was seventeen years old and first saw him at that charity gala my family catered. He'd been twenty-four then, already cold and untouchable. But he'd looked at me, really looked at me, and I'd been lost ever since. "I'm dissolving the contract." His voice was devoid of any emotion.

“Packing.” His jaw tightened. “We’re not going anywhere.” “I am,” she replied quietly. The room seemed to shrink. “You can’t just leave,” Lucas said. She finally turned to him. “I’m not disappearing. I’m choosing space.” “For what?” he demanded. “So I don’t forget who I was before I became someone you tolerate,” she said. The words hit harder than accusation. “You’re my wife,” Lucas said sharply. “You don’t get to make decisions like this alone.”