Wife Strips For Me Novels & Stories

Xander (Alexander Michelle) is hated by his family not because he was the sole survivor of the tragic accident that claimed the lives his parents. He’s hated because his father left everything to him—every cent, every asset, the entire Michelle empire. But, the Will provided a clause: until he is married, he can't assess his fortune. For twenty years, Xander was cast out, exiled by the same man who now reminds him of the clause— the same man who spent the last two decades burning through what wasn’t his—his grandfather, Jacob Michelle. Now, Xander is back. And he’s furious. He is ready to marry just to reclaim what’s his. But there’s another condition: he must

My wife—Nancy Valente—had been "missing" for three months after some fake skiing accident. I spotted her at a bar. She was draped over Finley Bennett's shoulder, laughing like she hadn't wrecked my life. "Good thing you came up with this plan. I almost forgot what freedom felt like." Her crew kept clinking glasses, asking when she planned to pop back up. She glanced down. "Maybe in a week. I'll show up once he's lost his mind." I stayed in the shadows, watching her bask in her little escape act. Then I grabbed my phone and called a buddy at the Vital Records Office.

Moana Queens has two rules: stay on top, and never become my mother. I'm the most brilliant girl in school, a cheerleader with a sharp tongue and sharper ambition. I've spent my whole life watching my mother fall for the wrong men who fuck and leave. I refuse to be that girl. But then there's Dylan Dickson. He's arrogant, cocky and a fucking playboy who doesn't screw the same girl twice. He's also my academic rival, infuriatingly brilliant, and so goddamn sexy I can barely think straight when he's near. I hate everything he represents. I want him with a hunger that keeps me awake at night. And that terrifies me. Then fate delivers the cruelest blow: Dylan is my new stepbrother.

Even though this is my eighth time proposing to Beverly Galvan, she still coldly turns me down again. She says that she isn't ready yet and that she needs more time. Since that's the case, I tell myself I will wait as long as it takes. That's when I see it—her and my brother's marriage certificate, posted for everyone to see on her social media. When I question her about it, she merely says in a calm voice, "Timothy's unwell. He can't get too upset, so you'd better not start anything!" They are wearing wedding rings in that photo, and there is a barely visible bump on her belly. In that moment, the storm within me dissipates. Hitting the like button on the post, I type out a comment. "

This isn't a fairytale. Mirror Mirror on the wall. A fairytale that became her fall. “Over my dead body will I let a man whore father my child. You're in every way incapable, irresponsible and definitely incompetent of becoming a father.” She said with a smile. "Stop acting like a saint, you're not one. You're only pregnant because you're a slut yourself, so what exactly is the difference between you and me?” She stepped up to him with a mocking smile. “Maybe, I'll show him pictures.” Anger flared up inside him. Who the fuck does she think she is? “Show him pictures!?" His fingers grabbed her throat. His eyes held hers. She didn't flinch, instead, a small smile played on her lips.

Ivy was auctioned into marriage by her greedy uncle to arrogant billionaire Cyrus Wray as settlement for a debt. Cyrus treated the marriage as a joke — a signature on paper, nothing more. When Ivy discovered she was pregnant, Cyrus laughed. "Prove it's mine." She walked out that same night and never looked back. Five years later, Cyrus is dying. His kidneys are failing and no donor match exists anywhere. His doctors deliver one final truth — only a direct blood relative can save him. A mutual person betrays Ivy's location for money and Cyrus arrives at her small town door — pale, weakened and humbled. But what destroys him isn't seeing Ivy. It's the five year old boy standing behind her

Marriage is a sacred union that ties two people together. It brings happiness and boons in life along with love and admiration for each other, but not every time! The marriage of conservative village girl Naina Kumari and the rich businessman Sameer Pratap Singh could be anything but a blessing. They were stuck in a relationship in the name of marriage, and the reason was a promise which was made by Sameer's father to Naina's father at the last moment. On the one hand, Naina had only one dream guy, Sameer, but on the other hand, Sameer was in a relationship with another girl. Eventually, This forced marriage brought a huge amount of hatred in Sameer toward Naina, which she had to bear. It'

The craziest thing I’ve ever done was let a dangerous man touch me, and not pull away. “Trust me.” Words like that could mess you up in this line of work. Then he did something I didn’t expect, he stretched out a hand. Even I knew when not to doubt a helping hand. I sighed. Well, roadkill it is then. I clasped his hand and his firm grip pulled me up out of the line of fire. *** Cake Coogan survives by her fists and her fury, spending her life fighting in underground rings to keep herself and her mother alive. But one stolen payout, one stranger’s intervention, and one accidental bag switch drops her into the crosshairs of Nico Vescari. Nico Vescari; mafia heir, feared and ruthless,

Madeline Crawford gave Jeremy Whitman everything. Twelve years of love, loyalty, and quiet devotion, and he repaid her with a prison sentence she did not earn. She watched him fall in love with another woman through the cold glass of a window she was visiting. She swallowed her tears every single night in a six-by-eight cell. She learned, slowly and painfully, how to rebuild herself from nothing. Five years later, she walks back through Havenport's gilded doors not as the broken girl Jeremy once discarded, but as a woman the city will not soon forget. She has money now. Connections. A plan. And a rage so cold and precise it could cut glass. She is going to ruin every single person who he

At my coming-of-age party, Dad told me to choose one of the three boys I had grown up with to marry into the family. The first to step back was my childhood friend, the boy who had grown up with me in the orphanage. The second was the bodyguard’s son, who had once taken three knife wounds for me. He shook his head without hesitation. As for the man I was supposed to marry through a family alliance, the same man who had held me just yesterday and promised he would never marry anyone but me, he looked at me with open ridicule. “Mr. Deen, isn’t this a bit too much? Everyone knows Emma was kidnapped for more than ten years. Those kidnappers were insane. Who knows what they might’ve done? I’m