Woman Library Novels & Stories

The woman stopped at the door but didn’t open it yet. Instead she looked back at Ophelia one final time. And suddenly— For the first time since meeting her— The woman looked serious. Not controlled. Not unreadable. Serious. “War,” she said quietly. The word settled like ice. Ophelia’s stomach tightened slightly. Because she realized instantly— This wasn’t metaphorical. The woman opened the door. Inside waited another room. Darker. Filled with screens. Maps. Live feeds. Names. Targets. Operations already in motion.

Lying had never been my strength, and now, every word I spoke could shape my survival here. “Fraud,” I forced out, steadying my voice as best I could. The woman’s smirk widened. “Fraud, huh? So you’re smart with numbers, not fists.” She leaned in close, her breath reeking of cigarettes. “You’ll learn quick in here, princess. You either fight, or you bow.” My chest tightened. The other woman spoke, her voice calmer, more measured. “Leave her, Dara. She won’t last a week. No point breaking what’s already broken.”

"You know nothing about this woman yet—she could be a serial killer!" I produce this strangled snort-laugh. "Please, I'm like 6'4, and the woman can't be taller than 5'3 feet. What is she going to do—kick my shins? Sling me over her shoulder and then throw me into her car? Smith, are you serious right now? Daria wouldn't be able to throw me into the trunk without help!" Smith shivers as if remembering an unpleasant memory. "You shouldn't underestimate today's women, Wilder. They are all masters of kung fu or equipped with pepper spray these days. Some carry bricks in their GUCCI bag."

Like, how can you befriend a woman who had intercourse with your husband on the very same bed where you made love to him? “What were you two doing?” Sophia asks. Curling her legs beneath her on the grass. “Nothing,” Mary quickly replies. Too quick even. Sophia rises one or her eyebrows, signaling she is not buying it. “It’s just silly sister-wives stuff, really… I’m sure you know.” Lucy says. “Sister-wives’ stuff?” Janne scoffs, “is that even a thing?” Apparently Janne had the same thing in mind. “Uh-huh,” Mary nods. “It is a thing.”

She stared at the faces of the major scientists of Aaima pharmaceuticals, they were six of them. "Miss Munawarrah, we agreed on a meeting tomorrow morning..." Jibril started but she cut him off. "Shut up!" She screamed at him and the man immediately kept shut. She kept her face neutral as she stared at them, the men were uncomfortable under her scrutinized gaze. It was completely ironical that a woman could make them this vulnerably but, she wasn't just a mere women she was the definition of a cold hearted businesswoman. The door opened and the vice president Aliyu Umar walked in, he was a young and ambitious man and could be considered as one of the most eligible bachelor in the northern pa

a voice said loudly. My head turned toward the sound. A group of female workers were gathered, looking at a phone. My face turned cold. Why were they gossiping during work hours? And their voices were too loud. “She’s an evil woman to blame the mistress instead of her unfaithful husband,” one of them said. “I can’t believe a wife is still fighting for a cheating man in this century,” another added. “This should be attempted murder. She should be in jail,” another said sharply. They were so busy talking that they didn’t notice me standing nearby.

I can feel it burning my bones, and my mind is on overdrive, thinking and considering every tiny detail. "How safe is the industry?" She asks. I go to ask her in which aspect she means, but I decide to answer all of them, and then she knows. "Workers have to have health checks frequently. Proof of contraception must be shown as well. The women in the industry should be safe, but each company is different, they operate their own rules, and such. The one I was at, wasn't run by a man with morals, someone had to speak up for the women who were too afraid to," I say.

"The battle field is not the place for a woman to be. And you're walking into a f**king trap." "What would you have me do then Grayson, or be?" I screamed. "I refuse to be the woman who stands behind the man. I refuse to be the damsel in distress and have you or any other man for that matter rescue me. I am not anyone's whore, or slave and I will not be my own corward anymore."

She had wondered privately if the stink of the city alone could coerce her to follow her husband’s command to stay indoors, though she considered it highly unlikely. As she had paused to examine the books lining the shelves, the faint beginnings of her good humour had fled. The titles on the spines leered down at her, the jagged lettering contriving rotten faces of their own. Woman and Sin, they read. The Keeping of a Good Wife. Accomplishments Acceptable in the Female Gender.

“No wonder she got close to his wife. She was planning it all along!” “Snake!” “Homewrecker!” “Mistress!” The words flew from every direction, like dirty mud sticking to my skin. One of the policewomen shook her head slowly, disappointment written all over her face. “As a woman, you should be ashamed.” Another added, “Married men are off-limits. That’s basic decency.” I could feel it. In just a few seconds, I had become the worst woman in the room. Sarah stepped forward, her eyes shining as she gave me a satisfied smirk.