Unwanted Wife, Unseen Torment

Unwanted Wife, Unseen Torment

Dorine Koestler

5.0
Comment(s)
731
View
11
Chapters

Another wave of pain hit me, a familiar, gut-wrenching cramp. I was bleeding again. This was the tenth time. Each time it happened, my husband, Liam Stone, would bring a woman home. A woman who looked exactly like his first love. Tonight was no different. He stood in our bedroom doorway, a woman by his side he introduced as Maya, flatly stating, "She' ll be staying with us for a while." His eyes never met mine; they were solely on her. Then, his words like stones, he commanded, "You' ll be serving us." I pushed myself up, the fresh bloodstain on the mattress a grim testament to my latest loss. My body ached, my world felt numb, yet the familiar routine played out as I fetched the wine. I returned to find them on my bed, Liam kissing her, a scene I had been forced to witness nine times before. A single drop of red wine accidentally splashed onto Maya' s pristine white dress. She gasped, theatrically exclaiming, "My dress! It' s ruined! This is a limited edition!" Liam' s face turned to thunder. He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. "You clumsy bitch," he snarled, then pulled out his phone. He started a live broadcast, aiming the camera at my face, then at Maya' s stained dress, and finally, the blood on the bed. "Look at her," he boomed to the world. "This is my wife, Chloe Miller. She can' t even do a simple task without messing it up." Then, he shoved my face closer to Maya' s dress, barking, "Lick it clean." My blood ran cold. "Liam, please," I begged, humiliation clawing at my throat. "Don' t do this." "Lick it," he repeated, his voice menacing. "Or I' ll find other ways to make you pay. Maybe you' d prefer to serve more than just one of my guests tonight?" His threat hung in the air, vile and real. I closed my eyes and leaned forward, the taste of wine and cheap perfume filling my mouth. He laughed, a harsh, grating sound, then released my hair, and I collapsed. "Get out," he spat. "And don' t come back in here tonight." I crawled out, another sharp pain tearing through my abdomen, warm blood gushing between my legs. He left me in the yard, naked, bleeding onto the cold, damp grass. Ten miscarriages. Each time, a new woman, a new cruelty. Lying there, under the cold moon, clarity dawned. This would never end. He would only ever destroy me. As the last warmth left my body, a new resolve settled in. It was time to see Arthur Stone. My "good fortune" was broken; I couldn't give Liam a child. I was done. I had to leave. Arthur, his face etched with mirroring grief, agreed to help me. But before I could escape, Maya found it-the small, simple urn holding the ashes of my nine miscarried children. Liam, ever her protector, kicked me into unconsciousness. I awoke to a new horror: a video compilation of my most private moments with him, twisted clips set to mocking music, broadcast for the world to see. He then forced me to donate blood until my heart nearly stopped. He froze my bank accounts. I crawled home from the hospital, only to find Maya burning my mother' s jade hairpin, my last connection to her. The urn was gone, its contents scattered. The next morning, the nine pear trees I' d planted were uprooted, replaced by rose bushes for her. That was the end. With Arthur' s help, I left the country, divorce papers filed on my behalf. Liam laughed when he received them, certain I' d crawl back. He was wrong. He only realized his mistake when he discovered Maya' s lies, the truth about her, and me. He tried to win me back. But it was too late. I was gone, never coming back. His family' s business collapsed, his health failed. The last I heard, Liam Stone, once the man who had everything, was a reclusive, crippled beggar, haunting his desolate mansion, obsessively planting pear trees and crying out my name in his madness.

Unwanted Wife, Unseen Torment Introduction

Another wave of pain hit me, a familiar, gut-wrenching cramp.

I was bleeding again.

This was the tenth time.

Each time it happened, my husband, Liam Stone, would bring a woman home.

A woman who looked exactly like his first love.

Tonight was no different.

He stood in our bedroom doorway, a woman by his side he introduced as Maya, flatly stating, "She' ll be staying with us for a while."

His eyes never met mine; they were solely on her.

Then, his words like stones, he commanded, "You' ll be serving us."

I pushed myself up, the fresh bloodstain on the mattress a grim testament to my latest loss.

My body ached, my world felt numb, yet the familiar routine played out as I fetched the wine.

I returned to find them on my bed, Liam kissing her, a scene I had been forced to witness nine times before.

A single drop of red wine accidentally splashed onto Maya' s pristine white dress.

She gasped, theatrically exclaiming, "My dress! It' s ruined! This is a limited edition!"

Liam' s face turned to thunder.

He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back.

"You clumsy bitch," he snarled, then pulled out his phone.

He started a live broadcast, aiming the camera at my face, then at Maya' s stained dress, and finally, the blood on the bed.

"Look at her," he boomed to the world. "This is my wife, Chloe Miller. She can' t even do a simple task without messing it up."

Then, he shoved my face closer to Maya' s dress, barking, "Lick it clean."

My blood ran cold.

"Liam, please," I begged, humiliation clawing at my throat. "Don' t do this."

"Lick it," he repeated, his voice menacing. "Or I' ll find other ways to make you pay. Maybe you' d prefer to serve more than just one of my guests tonight?"

His threat hung in the air, vile and real.

I closed my eyes and leaned forward, the taste of wine and cheap perfume filling my mouth.

He laughed, a harsh, grating sound, then released my hair, and I collapsed.

"Get out," he spat. "And don' t come back in here tonight."

I crawled out, another sharp pain tearing through my abdomen, warm blood gushing between my legs.

He left me in the yard, naked, bleeding onto the cold, damp grass.

Ten miscarriages.

Each time, a new woman, a new cruelty.

Lying there, under the cold moon, clarity dawned.

This would never end.

He would only ever destroy me.

As the last warmth left my body, a new resolve settled in.

It was time to see Arthur Stone.

My "good fortune" was broken; I couldn't give Liam a child.

I was done.

I had to leave.

Arthur, his face etched with mirroring grief, agreed to help me.

But before I could escape, Maya found it-the small, simple urn holding the ashes of my nine miscarried children.

Liam, ever her protector, kicked me into unconsciousness.

I awoke to a new horror: a video compilation of my most private moments with him, twisted clips set to mocking music, broadcast for the world to see.

He then forced me to donate blood until my heart nearly stopped.

He froze my bank accounts.

I crawled home from the hospital, only to find Maya burning my mother' s jade hairpin, my last connection to her.

The urn was gone, its contents scattered.

The next morning, the nine pear trees I' d planted were uprooted, replaced by rose bushes for her.

That was the end.

With Arthur' s help, I left the country, divorce papers filed on my behalf.

Liam laughed when he received them, certain I' d crawl back.

He was wrong.

He only realized his mistake when he discovered Maya' s lies, the truth about her, and me.

He tried to win me back.

But it was too late.

I was gone, never coming back.

His family' s business collapsed, his health failed.

The last I heard, Liam Stone, once the man who had everything, was a reclusive, crippled beggar, haunting his desolate mansion, obsessively planting pear trees and crying out my name in his madness.

Continue Reading

Other books by Dorine Koestler

More
Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Mafia

4.2

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

His Obsession, My Hell

His Obsession, My Hell

Romance

5.0

My marriage to David Miller was a picture of perfection, a dream life built on his charm and our shared happiness. Then came the call: my mother in an accident, and David, my husband, utterly unreachable. Hours bled into sterile dread in the hospital waiting room, a dread far deeper than my mother' s condition. An unknown text arrived, a single photo: David, arm around another woman, intimate, familiar. It was my aunt, Sophia Hayes, my mother' s estranged sister, her smile painfully like mine. My world, once perfect, splintered into a million icy shards under the humming hospital lights. He returned late, weaving slick lies about dead phones and urgent meetings, as if I were a child to be placated. But as he signed the papers I put before him, oblivious, a chilling sense of irony settled heavy in my gut. The man I thought I knew, the husband who murmured of naming our child "Sophia," was a stranger. I found his study, not an office, but a shrine to her, filled with desperate letters and a diary detailing his monstrous plan: I was just a "perfect-looking replacement" to bear "his Sophia." The love, the marriage, the baby-all a grotesque fabrication, designed to resurrect his lost obsession. The pain threatened to split me, but beneath it, a cold, hard resolve began to form, sharper than any grief. He thought he' d signed investment papers; he' d signed his divorce, and my consent to end the lie he' d so carefully constructed within me. I walked out that night, leaving his diary open, his delusion exposed, ready to erase every trace of his monstrous fantasy.

The Secret Genius Ex-Wife's Cold Revenge

The Secret Genius Ex-Wife's Cold Revenge

Modern

5.0

I spent three years playing the role of the perfect, invisible wife to Dillard Bentley, the billionaire heir of Manhattan. While he graced the tabloids with socialites, I stayed in the shadows of our penthouse, waiting for a man who treated me like a piece of furniture. One rainy night, the facade finally shattered. Dillard came home smelling of another woman’s perfume, and I handed him the divorce papers he never expected. But before the ink could dry, a violent pain ripped through me during a family lunch, and I collapsed in a pool of blood on the pristine marble floor. While I was being rushed to the hospital, Dillard’s mother dismissed my agony as a manipulative trick, and Dillard chose to believe her. He didn't follow the ambulance; he went to a gala to protect his mistress instead. I woke up in a cold emergency room only to be told I had lost the baby I didn't even know I was carrying. Because of the toxic "vitamins" his mother had been force-feeding me, my blood wouldn't clot, and I had to undergo surgery without a single drop of anesthesia. I bit down on a leather strap, feeling every agonizing scrape as they cleared the remains of my child, while my husband laughed at my pain over the phone. "Stop the drama, Erica. Tell her the divorce terms are non-negotiable. I'm busy." He hung up, leaving me to scream in silence. I realized then that the man I had once loved was the same man who let his family poison me. The "vitamins" weren't supplements; they were a death sentence for my unborn child, and he didn't even care enough to show up. Dillard thinks he’s divorcing a penniless nobody, but he’s about to find out that the world-renowned medical genius he’s desperate to recruit is the wife he left to bleed alone. I walked out of that hospital, threw my wedding ring in the trash, and reclaimed my true identity. Dr. N is coming to the global summit, and I’m not there to save the Bentley empire—I’m there to burn it to the ground.

You'll also like

One Night With My Billionaire Boss

One Night With My Billionaire Boss

Nathaniel Stone
4.5

I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. Beside me lay Ezra Gardner—my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers. He didn’t offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement. "Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins." He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend’s apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I’d spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes. I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe. "Showtime, Mrs. Gardner." Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend’s face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
Unwanted Wife, Unseen Torment Unwanted Wife, Unseen Torment Dorine Koestler Modern
“Another wave of pain hit me, a familiar, gut-wrenching cramp. I was bleeding again. This was the tenth time. Each time it happened, my husband, Liam Stone, would bring a woman home. A woman who looked exactly like his first love. Tonight was no different. He stood in our bedroom doorway, a woman by his side he introduced as Maya, flatly stating, "She' ll be staying with us for a while." His eyes never met mine; they were solely on her. Then, his words like stones, he commanded, "You' ll be serving us." I pushed myself up, the fresh bloodstain on the mattress a grim testament to my latest loss. My body ached, my world felt numb, yet the familiar routine played out as I fetched the wine. I returned to find them on my bed, Liam kissing her, a scene I had been forced to witness nine times before. A single drop of red wine accidentally splashed onto Maya' s pristine white dress. She gasped, theatrically exclaiming, "My dress! It' s ruined! This is a limited edition!" Liam' s face turned to thunder. He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. "You clumsy bitch," he snarled, then pulled out his phone. He started a live broadcast, aiming the camera at my face, then at Maya' s stained dress, and finally, the blood on the bed. "Look at her," he boomed to the world. "This is my wife, Chloe Miller. She can' t even do a simple task without messing it up." Then, he shoved my face closer to Maya' s dress, barking, "Lick it clean." My blood ran cold. "Liam, please," I begged, humiliation clawing at my throat. "Don' t do this." "Lick it," he repeated, his voice menacing. "Or I' ll find other ways to make you pay. Maybe you' d prefer to serve more than just one of my guests tonight?" His threat hung in the air, vile and real. I closed my eyes and leaned forward, the taste of wine and cheap perfume filling my mouth. He laughed, a harsh, grating sound, then released my hair, and I collapsed. "Get out," he spat. "And don' t come back in here tonight." I crawled out, another sharp pain tearing through my abdomen, warm blood gushing between my legs. He left me in the yard, naked, bleeding onto the cold, damp grass. Ten miscarriages. Each time, a new woman, a new cruelty. Lying there, under the cold moon, clarity dawned. This would never end. He would only ever destroy me. As the last warmth left my body, a new resolve settled in. It was time to see Arthur Stone. My "good fortune" was broken; I couldn't give Liam a child. I was done. I had to leave. Arthur, his face etched with mirroring grief, agreed to help me. But before I could escape, Maya found it-the small, simple urn holding the ashes of my nine miscarried children. Liam, ever her protector, kicked me into unconsciousness. I awoke to a new horror: a video compilation of my most private moments with him, twisted clips set to mocking music, broadcast for the world to see. He then forced me to donate blood until my heart nearly stopped. He froze my bank accounts. I crawled home from the hospital, only to find Maya burning my mother' s jade hairpin, my last connection to her. The urn was gone, its contents scattered. The next morning, the nine pear trees I' d planted were uprooted, replaced by rose bushes for her. That was the end. With Arthur' s help, I left the country, divorce papers filed on my behalf. Liam laughed when he received them, certain I' d crawl back. He was wrong. He only realized his mistake when he discovered Maya' s lies, the truth about her, and me. He tried to win me back. But it was too late. I was gone, never coming back. His family' s business collapsed, his health failed. The last I heard, Liam Stone, once the man who had everything, was a reclusive, crippled beggar, haunting his desolate mansion, obsessively planting pear trees and crying out my name in his madness.”
1

Introduction

09/07/2025

2

Chapter 1

09/07/2025

3

Chapter 2

09/07/2025

4

Chapter 3

09/07/2025

5

Chapter 4

09/07/2025

6

Chapter 5

09/07/2025

7

Chapter 6

09/07/2025

8

Chapter 7

09/07/2025

9

Chapter 8

09/07/2025

10

Chapter 9

09/07/2025

11

Chapter 10

09/07/2025