Wag Wife Novels & Stories

I turned my head stiffly. I tensed up when I saw the woman at the door. She wore an off-white cashmere coat. Her makeup was delicately done. Her hair was permed in a stylish curl. She was my wife, Sloane, whom I had missed dearly for over thirty years. The man beside her wore a dark gray suit with a tie. His hair was meticulously combed. I recognized him at once. It was Wallace. Back in the day, he was a loafer in the neighborhood. He often stole things and harassed widows. He even served two years in prison.

Not because she was searching for another beginning but because she had finally found herself. The wife he replaced was never truly replaced… She had simply become the woman he was never worthy of losing. **THE END** Thanks for reading. Leave a comment.

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.

An old lady asked that took the attention of everyone. Everyone suddenly stopped working and took down their hats as if showing their respects to the owner of the hacienda. Thyago then smiled and possessively put his hand on her waist. When she looked at him, the brute seemed proud with all smiles. "I'd like you to meet the very special woman in my life. This is my wife, Beatrice Williams. As you all know we got married yesterday and we're here for honeymoon." He announced. She suddenly felt her cheeks flushed hearing the last words he said. Her embarrassment went stronger when the farmers suddenly cheered and gave them a round of applause. Some of them whispered to one another and some of t

Angela Every women's dream is to have a perfect household. We won't settle for less for we women are destined for something bigger and brighter tomorrow for our family. That's how I look things up and continued to serve as a mother and a wife. But, I never thought that life will give me a fucked up challenge. "What? I thought Mr. Takahashi and I talked about this. He knew that I'm on a one-week vacation, right now. Hence, what's up with that old man!" I can't help to yell. "This is absurd," I said with an annoying voice.

They’ve got his wallet and a bunch of photos as leverage. “Tell your wife what you did, pal. One way or another, she’ll find out you’re not the good guy you pretend to be.” When we arrive at the office, a petite Asian guy and his tall, slender wife step outside. She’s wrapped around him like a scarf, and honestly, people like her really get under my skin. The women here seem to be selling themselves, but not in the “I’m just trying to pay for school” way—more like the “this is my life, watch me fall apart” vibe.

Adrian's POV The warrant exploded across my burner phone like shrapnel in the dead of night. Alerts piled up from the scraps of my network *International warrant issued. Murder-for-hire. Conspiracy with intent to defraud and kill.* Maribel. That pathetic, whining mess had survived, clawed her way back from the brink, and sung like a canary to save her own hide. I could picture her in that hospital bed, swollen and broken, spilling every secret I'd trusted her with. Ungrateful. Disposable.

I’m such a bad wife. . A. Gupta