The Wives Romane & Geschichten

“I didn’t know sisters share wedding beds.” The woman blinked, stunned. “H-husband?!” “Yes,” both wives said in unison, stepping protectively in front of Adrian. Their eyes narrowed dangerously. The woman stumbled back under the force of their united glare, stammering something before turning and bolting out of the lobby like a frightened rabbit. Adrian just stood there, blinking. His wives turned back to him, dusting off his sleeves, smoothing his shirt, fixing his collar like twin generals dressing their soldier. “You poor thing,” Charlotte teased. “So cute women can’t leave you alone.”

He doesn’t even spare me a glance. “Lena is not a slave, and I need her to…” “Go” he cuts me off. “The woman would not be leaving.” “But…” “That’s final. Now leave Maria.” Walter roars with laughter along with the scantily dressed women perched on his laps. “Dear me! I’ve heard about the way you discipline the women in your household, but I didn’t think it extended to even your wife.” Cheeks burning in humiliation, I hurry out of the room with Walter’s maid before Sebastain can say something worse.

As I stood up myself, Aurora and Mariposa accosted me. Good Lord please restrain me from not killing these women. "And where do you think you are going to bitch?" Aurora snarled. "I am going far away from you and your badluck before it taints my life" I chuckled. A gasp left her lips. "Are you mad!? You this shameless whore!" Her outburst was attracting the stares of the other wives. "What is going on here?" A woman ambled in our direction. She was very pretty though. The prettiest of all here with her hazel eyes and curly brown hair.

“You should know something about my home, Violet. Wolves-Heaven isn’t kind to outsiders. Especially new wives.” Her eyes flicked toward me, wary. “Don’t act like you care.” A smirk curved my lips. “Of course I don’t,” I said. “But you should know… I already have three wives.” The color drained from her face, though she masked it quickly, turning away. “They’re beautiful,” I added lightly. “But vicious. I doubt you’ll last two months before they tear you apart.” Her voice came out soft, trembling. “Then why bring me there?” she asked, still staring out the window.

Sakha returned to the field feeling still annoyed. He regretted having gone home earlier, even if only for a moment. Because his third wife, Nia, never stopped teasing him even though she knew that day was not her schedule. Sakha does not really like aggressive women and is always willing to interfere in his affairs. Nia knows that, not to interfere in Sakha’s business, even though they are husband and wife. The three wives of Sakha know this, but sometimes they often forget because they are controlled by their own feelings.

" Many wives would think that way. When their husbands were busy with their careers and did not have much time to spend with them, they would assume only money and success were their husbands’ priorities. However, when their husbands would stay home with them every day, they would start feeling irritated, and their husbands’ presence would get on their nerves. Women were truly complex and confusing creatures. "No." Paige shook her head. She would not dare to find him annoying. "I mean… won't people at your company comment that you're only interested in your beautiful wife and not the business?" Paige asked.

trophy wives" doesn't mean we've got to be actual wives. " "Very true," Clementine agreed, "I have sex with my husband once a year and that's simply because one of his mistresses fails to answer the phone, or we do so, simply for the fact that we should. I have a Mister or two who take care of my needs and that's that." "Wait," I held up my hands as I looked around the table, "you're telling me, you all have misters?" I asked them in surprise. They nodded, I mean even Emma and Emma's what? Twenty!

A little subtle sigh that indicates he is done. “Yeah, time to let off steam and go find a club. You guys coming?” Alexi invites the two, now less surly cousins, but the stricken look on the wives’ faces suggests they won’t be coming if they do fancy a night of fun. I get the impression women get left behind. Invitations stop at the men and they get no say. I can almost guarantee they are the type of wives who follow the Mafia mistress rule. Don’t mention them, don’t make a fuss and know that weekends are mistress days. Turn a blind eye and don’t get upset.

“Thomas, did you know why I agreed to hold the wedding with Alex? That’s because you’ve always been a pushover like you are now! You never act like a man! You always chose to back off during work and has never surpassed Alex! Even after work you act the same way. You never dared to anger me and even took the initiative to move out of your own house! You’re just a coward!” Before she could finish speaking, a lazy woman’s voice sounded at the door. “Thomas, are you done packing yet? The MPV’s still waiting outside!”

The chicken hopped around for a moment before dropping a steaming pile of poop onto my custom-made designer couch. Then it took off racing around the living room, scattering feathers and dust everywhere. That was the last straw. I pointed at the two women, my voice shaking with rage. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house? Get out!" Martha Wilson showed no sign of remorse. Instead, she planted her hands on her hips, spat on the floor in my direction, and sneered. "Shut your mouth, you bitch. From now on, we're Ryan's first and second wives. And you think you can throw us out?"