By Racheal Dennis

Genre: Love.

Tags: Celebrity, love, breakups, heartbreak, billionaire, love triangle, friendship, possessive, jealousy, plots, independent, long-lost relations, reunion, dominance.

Location: New Orleans, LA, etc.

Language: English.

My name is Rachel Baldwin, no, I was first Rachel Richards before I got married to my husband and took his last name.

My husband is the most popular pop artist in all of America, with over 500 million followers on Instagram, Facebook and other social media. Although, he’s a popular singer, he also has several movie production companies.

HIDDEN WIFE : CHAPTER 1 - 10. Thingscouplesdo

He’s arrogant, rude and pompous. He always makes the headlines with different girls everyday, he wasn’t like this when I knew him, fell in love with him and married him.

I was ten, when nanny Pamela brought him to our orphanage -a twelve years old unidentified boy.

He was sad, unfriendly and cold. He doesn’t mingle with other kids and always stayed in his own space.

None of us knew anything about him; where he came from, who his parents were or why he was brought to our orphanage. Nanny Pamela only told us his name, Duncan Baldwin!

None of the kids in our orphanage wanted to be friends with him, because he never even gave anyone a chance to come close to him.

He’d always sit under a tree with a journal, he’d hug it to his chest and fall asleep there.

But as the busybody I was, I continued trying to get close to him and make friends with him, I didn’t give up even though he was trying everything to brush me off…until he accepted my friendship.

Then, I became his only friend in our orphanage and he slowly warmed up to me. We became close friends, we had each other’s back.

We did everything together; go to school together, do chores together and eat together.

But even at that, he still never told me about his past, or origin and I didn’t bother to ask.

Then the world turned against us, an unexpected earthquake happened and our orphanage collapsed, rendering us (every child in our orphanage) homeless -we lost nanny Pamela in that earthquake.

Many of us became street kids, we could only depend on our abilities to survive, and although, we were just fourteen and sixteen years old then, Duncan was the breadwinner and wouldn’t let me hustle for anything.

Duncan and I didn’t sleep in the street though, there’s being an abandoned house behind our orphanage and that’s where we decided to stay. Even though it’s been abandoned for years, it was still in a good shape but the other kids preferred sleeping in the streets.

We stopped our high school education for the time being, because we were both minors and no one’s ready to employ us, hence we had no money to continue.

We continued hustling, until we turned sixteen and eighteen respectively, then something happened between us, we kssed and that’s when we realized we’ve been in love with each other -we started dating.

Duncan managed to secure singing job at a bar, with a reasonable salary and we were able to feed decently and continue high school.

But unfortunately we couldn’t venture into the university.

Then we turned eighteen and twenty respectively, he proposed to marry me and I happily agreed -we’re lovers after all.
We had a very low budget and low-key wedding, it was just us and an officiating priest.

We were poor but our lives were filled with love, happiness and excitement. We both cherished every moment and live everyday with optimism.

Shortly after our wedding, Duncan was discovered by a label company and sadly, he was asked to hide his marital status before they would sign him.

He discussed this with me and promised to terminate the contract in two years, once he’s made enough money to start another business.
I agreed to his plan, because I was viewing the greater future.

Duncan soon started becoming busier and busier, he began having lesser and lesser time for me. Until he finally went rogue, he started drinking, smoking, attending almost every party in LA and me.ssing around with different girls.

He’s become totally different from the Duncan I knew and fell in love with.

He promised to terminate the contract when I was twenty years old, and now I’m twenty-four but he’s not talking about the termination yet.

My heart hurts everytime I see him making headlines, with different girls… I didn’t sign up for this.

But I have decided not to feel hurt anymore, I have decided to divorce him and live for myself!



Chapter 1



R&F Coffee And Ice Cream Parlor

It’s 7:34pm, which was way past my closing time but I had to stay back and do some accounting, I haven’t been making up to my targeted profit recently.

I was getting ready to close, when I heard the bells chiming and I lifted my head only to see a lady dressed in expensive clothes walk into my cafe. But I didn’t bother to check her out in details, because I care less about her.

“Hello, welcome to R&F coffee and ice cream parlor, but we’re closed for today, maybe you should come tomorrow” I told her politely with a small smile.

She ignored me as she looked around for a while, then turned back to me and looked me from my head to my toes -she sighed and shook her head.

Hello? What’s that supposed to mean?! I screamed mentally.

“I just wanna have a word with you” she said, then showed herself to a table and sat down.

I gaped at her blatant behavior, like, who does she think she is? Miss world? Why is she behaving as if she owns my cafe?

I overlooked her rudeness, walked towards the table and sat down too, then I tilted my head and raised my eyebrows at her to state her business.

But she didn’t say a word, she kept looking around with a disgusted expression and I felt like clawing her eyes out.

It’s been close to twenty minutes, but she haven’t said anything yet, she’s just been glaring at me and accessing me from my head to my toes.

“Who are you?” she finally said something.

I frowned at her question.

“Who am I?” I asked her back.

“What’s your relationship with my boyfriend? Why is your picture his phone’s wallpaper? Why does he even have your pictures in his phone? And why won’t he stop staring at them every fking time?” she questioned me, banging on the table with each question that proceeded from her off.

Oh, so, this is what brought her here? To ask me these silly questions?

“You have asked me so many questions, which one do you want me to answer first?” I asked her, with a nonchalant shrug.

Her brows furrowed immediately as she squinted her eyes, she gritted her teeth and leaned on the table.

“What’s your relationship with my boyfriend?” she repeated one of the questions she’s asked earlier.

“My relationship with your boyfriend…” I trailed off.

I leaned back on the chair, crossed my legs and began picking my fingernails as if I had dirt in them.

“… firstly, I don’t know who the hell you are, talk more or less of who your boyfriend is”

I paused and glanced at her, only to realize she’s glaring daggers at me which means I’m getting under her skin already -I smirked victoriously.

“Secondly, how can I know what my relationship with your boyfriend is, when I don’t even know him?”


“Babygirl, didn’t your mummy teach you it’s very rude to approach people without self-introduction?”

My question rendered her speechless, she stared at my with her reddened face, which made her looked like a volcano preparing to erupt, but she took a few deep breaths to keep her cool.

“My name is Tasha Wood, the most popular and highly paid model in the world” she said smugly.


“Yes, my boyfriend is…” she narrowed her eyes. “.. Duncan Baldwin!” she whispered quietly as if she doesn’t want others to hear her.

“Oh” I replied simply, putting my hand over my mouth and feigning being surprised.

“Oh?” she asked and I raised an eyebrow in return. “What’s with the ‘I don’t care’ expression?”

“Because I really don’t care and this is the first time I’m hearing both your names” I lied partly, I’ve heard Duncan’s name and I know very well who he is.

I rolled my eyeballs mentally. If only she knew her so-called boyfriend is my lawfully wedded husband.

Her eyes searched around my restaurant, until they landed on a big flat screen tv above my cashier’s counter and she rolled her eyeballs. Lady, don’t roll your eyes at me, or I’m gonna claw them out!

“Maybe you should use your tv, then you’d be hearing our names everyday”

I glanced at the tv.

“I don’t know how to turn it on, maybe you should stay for some days and teach me” I pouted.

“You’re… ” she trailed off.

“I’m what?” I asked calmly.

She couldn’t find any words to say, she could only gulp a few times and exhaled in frustration. She dipped her hand in her small, fancy purse and I know it’s worth millions.

She pulled out a blank cheque, slammed it on the table and pushed it towards me.

“A blank cheque?” I asked.

“Yes” she answered. “Tell me, how much do you need to leave my boyfriend?”

“Ooh, I love blank cheques” I said.

I reached for the cheque, I stared at it with a smile and kssed it, making sure my red lipstick is vividly printed on it. Then I slammed it on the table and it pushed it back to her.

“Look around, this is my own cafe, which simply means I’m doing fine and I don’t need your blank cheque”


“Give it to your boyfriend, tell him that’s my lipstick on it and please warn him to stop staring at my pictures without my permission and he should delete them from his phone” I sighed. “That is if he’d listen to your whining” I added just to infuriate her.

She frowned.

“How dare you?!”

“Sorry, honey, but you’ve overstated your welcome” I gestured towards the door.


“Yes, walk yourself out or I’ll leave you behind here and report you to the cops on you and charge for for break-in” I told her warningly. “And… ” I nodded at her cheque. “… don’t leave your cheque behind” I said, keeping a very calm and confident demeanour.

She glared at me a few seconds, before springing off her chair, snatched her cheque and stormed towards the exit door.

“What a waste of my twenty minutes” I scoffed.

Just when I turned around and was about heading back to the counter to continue doing my account, I heard the bells chiming again, I turned around and saw a man dressed in black suit approaching me.

He’s so tall, muscular and had a small, black bluetooth plugged in his ear.

“Not again” I grumbled under my breath.

He stopped in front of me.

“Good evening, Mrs Baldwin” he greeted me.

“Hm” I could only hum and nod.

“Mr Baldwin’s concert is tomorrow night, he specially asked me to pass these tickets to you and beg you not to tear them this time” he said as he stretched out two tickets to me.

Of course, he knows I’ve been tearing every single ticket he’s brought.

He always send tickets to me everytime he’s going on tours in different countries, but I don’t attend any of them, at least not anymore because I used to attend four years ago.

“He said I should remind you that he’s holding his concert in LA this year, and you should please attend” he said.

I tilted my head and glanced at the bluetooth that’s flashing blue light, which means it’s turned on and he (my husband) can hear me.

“Tell him to come home and if he really want me to come to his concert, he’d personally give these tickets to me” I said.

“But, Mrs Baldwin, Mr Baldwin is a very busy man and… ”

“Good” I cut in. “Tell him I’m a very busy woman too, I don’t have time for his cat and mouse games”

He wanted to say something else, but I raised my hand and stopped him. I let my eyes roam outside as if I’m searching for something or someone.

“It’s best you leave now, you don’t want people to start suspecting I have a relationship with the big celebrity” I told him. “Oh, and tell him one of his girlfriends dropped by earlier”

“But the tickets”

At once the tickets were snatched from him, we both turned towards who had snatched them and I groaned frustratingly.

“Fatima, give it back” I grumbled.

“Nope” she replied and kssed the tickets. “I love concerts!” she jumped happily.

He smiled, then turned and literally ran out, before I would think of snatching the tickets from Fatima and shove them back in his hands.

“You shouldn’t have collected those tickets” I queried her while glaring at the tickets.


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