Writer Wilde Novels & Stories

Samad Hussein, the vice president was sitting on the bed watching her, he was a hand some man in his late 40's "Congratulations on your marriage" He said staring intently at her "Thanks" She said her hands still weaving through her brown hair "I wouldn't have betted on you getting married" "Good! Coz it's wrong to bet" "So what next?" "How?" She asked finally looking at him and she saw the way he was looking at her. Bastard! "I'm in love with you Munawarrah and you know that" "You've told me that before" "You told me when I asked you to marry me that you didn't want to get tied down to any man, in your own words you're a woman of your own"

Then, he waved to a waiter and ordered some food for us. Jared quietened down after the orders were taken and stared at me with his eyes glazed over, looking a little lost. I knew he had taken too big a sip of whiskey earlier and was struggling to stay clear-headed. Just as I wondered if I should take the opportunity to bring up my resignation and have him approve it while he was in a daze, I realized that he was burning a hole in my head with that blatant, fiery gaze of his. I felt my goosebumps rising.

My name is Emily, and I’ve always been the good girl. Straight A’s, captain of the debate team, the one who volunteers at the animal shelter on weekends. At 22, I’m in my final year of college, majoring in literature, dreaming of becoming a writer someday. But beneath that polished exterior, there’s a secret side of me—a side that craves the forbidden, the filthy, the kind of pleasure that makes your toes curl and your mind shatter. And it all revolves around him: Professor Adrian Black.

Something that chilled me to the bone. "It's not just Varyn’s ghost," he whispered. "It’s his essence. His very being lingers in the veil between life and death. He's not dead, Cassia. He's alive in a way that none of us understand." I stood frozen in place, my heart racing. The reality of his words hit me like a tidal wave. Varyn, my stepmother’s cruel, manipulative first husband—the man who had orchestrated my mother’s death and destroyed my family—was not only alive in spirit, but his presence had been feeding off our fears and insecurities.

Taller than before, his hair falling in his face, his eyes flickering between red and blue. The telling of an internal war with his wolf. My world came crumbling down as I came to the horrifying realisation; Saul Wilde is my mate.

In my panic, I moved too much, and the pillow I had stuffed under my shirt for some forgotten reason chose that moment to tumble out onto the floor with a thud. Under the table next to me, a trio of fluffy dog heads emerged. The room went eerily quiet. I glanced at the pillow on the ground. Then my sight moved toward my belly, now unmistakably flat. This was bad. Wendy, initially taken aback, suddenly erupted into loud, mocking laughter. Then, she said, "You aren't even pregnant! "You're faking a pregnancy and have the nerve to let these mutts mess up Ethan's prized possession." She whipped around, her voice sharp and cutting as she said, "Get her! And get these mongrels, too. Drag them out

This would blow over eventually. When I arrived at Moonlight Photography, Paige was waiting with a young man who practically vibrated with excitement. "Ms. Chase! It's an honor to meet you!" He jumped to his feet. "I'm Liam Wilde, beta wolf of the Wilde family, distant cousin to the Maples on my mother's side!" I blinked at the torrent of words, shaking his offered hand. "I've admired your work for years," he continued without breathing. "The way you capture supernatural beings is revolutionary! I studied photography at Silvercrest Academy, specializing in lighting techniques for werewolf subjects!"

I tossed the cigarette and lit another one, my hand trembling with rage. I pulled out my phone and searched that name again—Kai Wilder Reyes. CEO. Heir of the Wilder Group. A multinational conglomerate in real estate, finance, and energy. But what bothered me most: he was clean. Not a single scandal. Not a single rumor about him with a woman. No affairs. Nothing. And now he just appeared out of nowhere, stealing the woman who used to be mine? Vivian… the woman I slept with every night. The woman I left for Sophia, but never truly let go of.

Let Cecilia cling to her title, to her ring, to the cold shell of a husband who lies awake whispering another man’s name. Let the world believe their perfect story. I’ll wait. I’ll play the long game. Because wars aren’t won in one night, they’re carved over months, years, until the enemy forgets what it feels like to breathe without fear. And Elliott Wilde? He’s already losing. He just doesn’t know it yet. I light a cigarette, exhale slowly, and watch the smoke curl into the dark like ghosts rising. My vow settles deep, steady, unshakable.

She replied and sat on the kitchen counter, enjoying her coke at the same time. "You won’t," Wylder spoke even though he knew that the truth was far from this. "You’re a werewolf, Wild. And I’m sure that you can smell things and emotions. So, the thing is, I want a distraction in my life. Because I’m going crazy. The last thing the desperate person inside me wants to do is run to Theodore after knowing that his business is in the human world."