The Wife He Thought Was Powerless Novels & Stories

Then a headline caught her eye: Power Married Couple: Gabriel and Andrea Reyes on Work-Life Balance. She repeated the words, voice dead and hollow, “Power Married couple.” Her chest tightened, a thousand questions surging but none dared to escape. How long? Why hide? Who was she to him really, and what the fuck it is, A wife?! ~ The bathroom door clicked shut behind her. She stared at the reflection. Her eyes red, swollen from tears she hadn’t allowed until now. The face looking back at her was cracked, fragile. “You’re my only one,” she whispered, the memory slicing through her.

“Do not be angry with him, Monique. Try not to show it. Get yourself calm. He’s angry too, you know... because of everything that happened. He didn’t want things to crash like this. So you have to be very careful with him. You hear me?” “I hear you,” I said. I nodded again, but in my mind, I was already a hundred steps ahead. Because I had finally come to realize the truth—the real truth. They all think I’m stupid. Naïve. Gullible. Easy to control..... A puppet, a woman whose only power lies in being someone’s wife. That’s the person they believe they’re dealing with. And maybe that’s who I was once. But not anymore. They think I can’t think for myself. That I’m just an emotional wreck who c

But his eyes left no room for negotiation, no space for delusion. “Impossible,” she rasped, her voice brittle as glass. “You—you wouldn’t—she’s beneath you. She’s beneath us. You can’t possibly have—” Detroit leaned back in his chair, arms folding, the picture of unshakable control. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. She is my wife. If you doubt it, call any registrar in this country.” Her knees weakened, her composure slipping like sand through trembling fingers. She had thought her bargaining position unassailable, her Harrington bloodline a fortress. Yet all along, she had been waging war for a crown already seated on another woman’s head.

And now here she was unconscious, hooked to machines. He clenched his fists in frustration. For a brief moment, he was tempted, foolishly tempted to reach out, to trace the gentle curve of her cheek with his fingers, to feel the warmth of her skin. The thought lingered, teasing, almost unbearable. But he shook his head sharply, fighting it down. She was a married woman, his assistant, and he had no right. He couldn’t overstep the boundary, when he had tried so hard to enforce it, so hard that it led to her being unconscious.

“I’m married.” She raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?” “That I can’t do this.” I got to my feet without any regret. Even when I was ticked at my wife, it didn’t change how I felt. Even when I was in a dark room with a beautiful woman, I wasn’t tempted to betray her. My dick wasn’t even hard. Why did my wife have so much power over me? Why was she the only woman I wanted to be with? Why did I feel like shit just for looking at someone else?

“Hello, husband.” The voice was distorted, but Julian recognized the cruelty beneath it. Alexander Sterling. Julian closed his eyes. “You have her.” “I have something you want.” “If you've touched her—” “Save your threats. You're standing in an abandoned hospital with a gunshot wound that hasn't healed properly. I have your wife, and you have exactly fifty-eight minutes to decide whether she lives.” Julian looked at the photograph again. “Let me speak to her.” A pause followed. Then he heard a faint sound.

Her eyes were wet too, full of tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “Why didn’t you fight harder?” she asked, and her voice finally broke. “Why didn’t you see what she was doing? Why did you believe her over me? Over us?” “I don’t know,” he said honestly. Raw and open. “I wish I had a good answer for you. I don’t. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I provided everything, the big house, the money, the name, the security, that it would be enough. That it would make up for me never being there at dinner. Victoria fed that lie every single day. She told me you were fine. That you understood the pressure I was under. That wives of powerful men had to make sacrifices. That you were proud

“Because if I tell every cab station in this city not to function tonight, they won’t.” For a second, I just stared at him. Then I scoffed. “That’s not an influence. That’s abuse of power.” “Call it whatever you want,” he replied smoothly. “The result is the same.” My chest rose and fell sharply as I processed his words. “You’re unbelievable.” “I just want to spend the night with my wife,” he said, his tone quieter now,but no less intense. Convenient wife. That was all I was supposed to be. Nothing more.

“You knew I was carrying a child eleven months ago, and you never told me?” “I didn’t know what happened to the pregnancy. When I asked you, you said you couldn’t remember anything.” I turned away, pressing my fingers against my forehead. I had spent months believing my marriage was failing because Adrian didn’t love me. Meanwhile, he had known about a pregnancy I couldn’t remember and had kept that knowledge to himself. “Did you ever look for the baby?” “Yes. But my grandfather told me the child had been transferred to a private family under your mother’s instructions. I couldn’t find any evidence to prove otherwise.”

HR sent out the Christmas holiday schedule at 3 p.m. Every employee received seven days off and a Christmas gift box. Well, all of them… except for me. I was given only half a day off. I had my medical records tucked in an envelope as I pushed open the conference room door. My husband, Matthew Westbrook, sat at the far end of the table, focused on something on his laptop. He didn't even look up as I entered. "The holiday schedule's already finalized," he said. "If I change yours now, HR will have to shift everyone's schedule around. Besides, it's just a shoulder procedure, Elena. It's not like you're dying. Once the surgery's over and done with, you'll be as healthy as a horse." I stare