Novel & Cerita Una Esposa Comprada

“You know where that will get you, right?” “You and your psychotic cousins are going to keep me here forever? Marry me and then fuck me until I can’t walk?” I spit out venomously. Only if I hadn’t let him manipulate me into believing he was my…my what? A strange pain rippled through me as my subconscious scoffed at me. Right. He was never my anything. Nothing. His smile was the darkest. “No, topolìno. Well, yes to the last one. As tempting the thought is–we’ll need to return to Catalonia–and you will join us when we do, as our wife.”

Belle added a smile. It’s Leo’s story to tell. He seems decent, almost nice enough to be her friend. Knowing his story would help her understand him more. “There’s not much to tell. I already have a family.” He added. It was like a rehearsed line, he said again and again. “But once upon a time, there was this lady, from a wealthy clan, who married an Italian entrepreneur. They were happy. It was a perfect marriage. In their world, there was nothing money couldn’t buy… and yet, a love match was a luxury. And they had it, not instantly, though.

"Or did you love the idea of having a wife? The status of being married, having a Luna, presenting a complete family unit to your pack? Because Matthew, love requires seeing someone as they actually are, not just what they can provide for you. And by your own admission, you never saw Bianca at all." My hands were clenched so tight my nails drew blood. "What do you want me to say?" "I want you to admit the truth. Not to me—I already know it. To yourself." She paused. "You married Bianca knowing you didn't love her. You spent four years using her labor and dedication while offering nothing genuine in return. You prioritized another woman over her repeatedly, openly, without regard for how it a

As she hugged him, her eyes rested on me. “This is your wife.” I forced myself to not press my lips together. Perhaps I was imagining things or maybe that was really the most condescending tone I've ever heard. “She is.” Nikolai replied and she stretched a hand forward. “Hi, I am Bianca. How's it like living the average woman's dream?” I took her hand and forced a practiced smile. “Wonderful.” Wonderful my ass. Why would any woman dream of being married to the Don, to end up in rooms full of secret animosity in the name of being allies?

“My husband had no right to give me away. Take me back. I have a son who needs me.” Rossi leans back in the leather seat, one arm draped across the back like we are on a date. His eyes rake over my body, lingering on my breasts spilling out of the lace bra. “Your husband sold you in under ten seconds. He does not deserve you.” His hand lands on my thigh and slides up slowly. “But I do. And you are going to learn exactly how good it feels to be owned.” I try to twist away. The movement only makes the balls roll deeper, rubbing against a spot that sends sparks shooting up my spine. A helpless moan slips out before I can stop it. Heat floods my face.

he seethed out. Aniya silently heard him. He was talking about someone or in precise, about a woman, who had come here to meet him but he didn't want to meet her but who was that her? Aniya ran her mind and a name caught her head. Her eyes widened. Was that his wife.. Valery Alfanso? Was she here to meet him and that was why he didn't want to meet her? But why would a wife need permission before entering into her own husband's property? What kind of husband and wife they were? She didn't know about Valery but she knew for sure that…that woman had been married to a monster. She was unfortunate to have a man like him as her life partner.

I knew the poor, sickly woman who had been unfortunate to marry the sick bastard who was the former don of the Brazilian cartel. The man popularly known by all who worked with him as El Chapo was a beast. He hated women, girls, and anything without balls. He believed women were only for breeding or to give him pleasure. His wife was my best friend. The dear Isabelle, who was my favourite name for her, had embodied it so well, until the sick bastard, blinded by his lust for her, manipulated her poor, sick gardener of a father to marry her.

Worse, she had gone to my office while Alya was there. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I recalled the day I negotiated with Mason to buy her. I needed a wife; Alya, the woman I was interested in, had married another man. Not only that, but I had no other choice—I bought Emma and forcibly made her my wife. Emma was beautiful and appeared intelligent, qualities that served my ambitions well. In those early days, I couldn’t stand here. She was stubborn and kept trying to escape, constantly reminding me that I was a monster who had purchased her like any ordinary commodity.

I took some of my men, went straight to the place where the slaves were imprisoned. The cunning trafficker saw me with my group and became a little nervous. "Yes, sir, what can I do for you here?" "Carlos sold you a woman not long ago. This woman is my wife. Where is she now?" My face was livid. The slave trader held his breath and scratched his head, smiling awkwardly as if nothing had happened. "I'm sorry, sir, but all slaves are bought legally. We might not be able to buy and sell your wife. There must be some kind of misunderstanding here."

Or his men. For now. Just for now. Until I was sober and stable again. "You can join us if you want, Bernard. You can have all the fun with her too if you," "None of you will put another finger on my woman. She's mine. I purchased her. If you really want to have fun with her, you better compensate me and refund me because I bought her from you, made the payment, and never got to stake my claim on her." A glacial whisper slithered up my spine at the explosion of those words.