Spoiling My Wife Dramas & Movies

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My best friend and I married into the same ultra-wealthy family. I married the genius doctor older brother, she married the cold and proud CEO younger brother. On the day of our wedding, Julian Long did not show up. He had gone to help his long-lost love find her missing dog. My grandmother was so upset she had a heart attack. I begged him to come back and save her. He said angrily, “Are you insane, Molly Shane? How could you lie using your only family’s life to drag me back? Sunny’s dog went missing, and I’m helping her look for it. We can have our wedding some other day.” That day, he found her dog, but I lost my grandmother forever. I cried until I passed out. When I woke up, I turned to my bestie. “Evie, I’m getting a divorce. What about you?” My bestie hugged me and wept. “I’m getting a divorce too!” The brothers’ eyes went red with tears when they received the divorce papers.

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To test his loyalty, my stepsister, Wendy Lidell, drugged my childhood friend. Then, she shoved me into his room. Unable to watch Connor Gordon suffer, I willingly helped him through the night. In a fit of pique, Wendy ran off and married a cruel mafia don. I got pregnant, and Connor was forced to marry me. At that point, he started to despise me. During the ten long years of marriage, he treated me and our son coldly. But during a flood overseas, he sacrificed his life to get me and our son back on solid land. I failed to keep my grip on him. As he sank into the depths, he looked at me and said, “If we could redo everything, make sure you don’t help me that night.” Those words stung me greatly, and I fainted right away. When I next opened my eyes, I found that I had gone back in time. I had traveled back to the night when Wendy had drugged Connor and locked me in his room.

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I’ve always felt like Travis Chancer was forced to marry me. Every time we were intimate at night, he’d rather use his hand to get me off than actually have sex with me. I got more and more disappointed and decided to divorce him. But the night before I printed the papers, I heard him on the balcony talking to his buddies. “Bro, I’m not trying to be nosy, but you’re obviously dying for it. Why won’t you touch her? The perfect woman is right there. It must feel amazing.” “Women can’t stand being ignored. If you keep bottling it up, she’ll eventually run off with another man, and you’ll regret it.” He took a quiet sip of whiskey. “But her skin is so delicate, and her waist is so slim… she’s so sensitive. What if I lose control and scare her? “She’s my woman. I have to be careful. If she wants to find comfort elsewhere, she can. As long as she’s still willing to come home, I’ll keep spoiling her.” They snorted. “Don’t act like a saint, man. If you’ve got the guts, stop secretly posting on Reddit.” Late that night, I quietly opened Travis’s browser history. A full hundred entries. The pinned post read: “I finally married the girl I’ve loved for years, but I have a very high sex drive. How can I make her enjoy it without leaving psychological scars?”…