The Wife He Thought Was Powerless Novels & Stories

"Are you responsible for taking Tricia's father in the constitution?" "Of course I do! I did that out of pity, her father has nothing to do with her reckless actions. I am an evil creature, so please leave me alone. All I want is to fix my whole family!" "You are being manipulated by your wife, aren't you?" "Do you have a fucking evidence for that?" "The fact that you did not try to help Tricia in her case, abandoning her, and letting her rot in prison speaks volume that you are indeed a coward husband. Maybe she is more powerful than you!"

She could always turn to her trusted tricks! He watched silently as his wife stood beside him un-moving, her eyes fixed on the stairs. 'What was she thinking? ' Until a few days ago he had considered women as nothing but a means to produce an heir and to carry on the legacy. An useless, intellect-less bickering part of human population, but by the act of God in two weeks he had been subjected to immense pain and humiliation because of two women. Once...Princess Sukanya and twice....His wife!

“You should have thought about that before accepting to be my wife. I actually don't know why I'm having this conversation with you.” “Then it's futile.” “Yes, you're coming with me because you're my wife!” He snapped. “I'm only your wife by title, maybe I should remind you of that.” It was after she spoke she realized everything, she didn't understand what came over her but she apparently knew she was infuriated by his guts. Perhaps it was because of the stress. She wasn't sure. “For that alone you have no right to go against my words. Do you understand?” Charlene gazed intently into his eyes, she didn't know if she was to say another word or kept silent. “Good.”

It's absence of power that made her husband to feel like he can easily bully her, and of course, Ragnar Marshall placed no value on her cause she has no power. She determined that she will work hard and grow to become a woman of influence and power. More powerful than Alex and Roberto combined. She longed for a future where both men will be on their knees, begging for her favor. She's still young and she believes she will accomplish it. Her suffering last night was so inhumane. Death flashed in her face multiple times, she even had to beg for death at some point but death wouldn't come. But she assured herself that there is hope at the end of the tunnel.

He didn't show his fears, but I could tell he was really scared of what was going on. “She is the wife of the king, Lucifer, the head of all the witches and wizards. You can’t take her on your own. She might look like just an ordinary woman, but she is really powerful,” he said, closing out the mind link. I could see he didn't want to say it out loud so we wouldn't look like fools or hopeless. I saw care and love in my husband's eyes, and it was motivating. I wanted to end this as far as possible and bring justice to whoever thought they could bring me and my man down just like that!

“I’m so sorry. And I hate being the one to tell you this, but I don’t have a choice. It’s not like I want this for you, not like I think it’s good. I hate it, Anita. I truly do. But we are powerless in this situation.” Her hands twist together in her lap. “And then there’s the issue of your school. I know I’m supposed to be your moderator, the one supervising your program. But I’m his wife, and without him…” She shakes her head in defeat. “Without him, I’m nothing. Powerless. I can make a decision right now, and in a second he’ll twist it to his favor, turn it upside down, and I’ll have no strength to fight back.” I blink, my mouth falling open. The disbelief on my face must be written in bo

He realized that bringing a woman into his bed at night didn't work on his new wife. In fact, on the contrary, she felt quite the opposite - she wasn't bothered at all nor offended that he had already brought women home for the past two nights in a row. He wasn't at all proud of his conquests but he wanted to do it to fucking drill it into his crippled wife's head that she had no power over him. She could not win after trapping him inside a forced marriage.

She scoots forward, making my task a tad bit easier so we're nearly eye level. "No idea about what?" She whispers, and I could almost laugh at how confused she sounds right now, but there's nothing funny about the way my wife doubts herself. "The absolute power you have over me." She shakes her head, determination rewriting her features, "I don't have any power over you." "But you do." I say, sounding almost desperate, "You own me. Every part of me."

Her absolute, unwavering obedience had been the foundation of our life, and now, that foundation had cracked with a single, furious sentence. A chilling curiosity mixed with the rage: when had they become so close? I couldn't recall a single interaction that justified this sudden, fierce loyalty. I needed to know what had transpired between them to make my wife treat me with such mean defiance lately. The power dynamic in my own foyer had been violently reversed. I felt utterly lost in my own house, a profound, humiliating conviction settling over me: I felt like I was now the wife, and she, the husband. The true punishment had begun, and it was I who was trapped.

Now she just watched, and he just kept trying, and there was something in that small exchange that felt more like a marriage than any grand gesture had in years. "Hartwell called again," she said, after a while. His hands didn't stop moving, but something in his shoulders went carefully still, the way they did whenever this subject came up. She noticed it. She always noticed it now, the same way she noticed herself noticing, because six months ago that stillness would have been the opening act of an argument, him building a case for why she should stay, dressed up as concern for the family, for stability, for all the things a wife was supposed to want more than her own name on a door.