My Woman His Wife Book Mga Nobela at Kwento

**** Author's note Thank you, readers, for taking your time to read this story. There will be grammatical errors because English is not my first language. **** * Married To My Enemy (Book 1) * His Ex-Wife ( Book 2) Please keep in mind that this is the sequence of the book "married to my enemy" for a better understanding, please read married to my enemy first. I wish you a fantastic reading experience!!

“I’m his wife. Mother of his two kids.” The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. For a moment, everything went silent except for the low hum of the TV. My chest tightened painfully. “His… wife?” I whispered, looking at Richard. “You’re married?” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. The woman his wife stepped closer, her expression twisting into disgust. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you didn’t know. You think a man like him doesn’t have a family? The late nights, the ‘business trips’… you really thought you were special?”

“No....please! Don’t hurt him! He’s only helping me here. Please, I’ll.....I'll pay, I’ll give you whatever you want, just stop this!” The taller one, sweat on his brow and dust on his jacket, threw his head back and laughed. “Pathetic. This is Dante Lucchese’s wife? Hiding in a pile of torn books like a rabbit?” Another leaned against the shattered counter, pointing a finger at me as if testing the edge of my fear. “What kind of man leaves his woman alone, eh? In a bookstore, right at the border. Does your husband even care, bella? Or are you just his ornament?”

He hadn't seen me yet, and I stopped the excited screech that had been on the tip of my tongue just before my eyes fastened on the buxom dark-haired woman that had been walking next to him. The woman from the manor? Kayla Storm as I live and fucking breathe. It was funny, how these things happened because It wasn't the plunging cleavage of the woman my eyes chose to settle on or the way she had her head turned up toward him. It was the pink polish on the fingers that she placed firmly on his chest that made the warmth in the pit of my stomach curdle until it had turned into bile. The hand rested on my husband’s chest like it had every right to be there.

So where had this woman—claiming she was my wife—fallen from, right into the center of our company? --- “Can you calm down now?” I asked the woman. Her crying had taken me off guard at first, but now she was fraying my nerves. “If you’re Darian Freeman, then who was my husband?” she demanded. Her hazel eyes, reddened from crying, looked almost green. The whites were bloodshot; her makeup had streaked down her face in dark tracks. “I don’t understand you,” I said, impatient. “I was married to Darian Freeman. To the bastard who owns this company!”

I am done with married women. The End

Angela Romero-Fernan is an ideal wife. A perfect Type-A wife to be exact. A loving wife to her husband Sebastian Fernan. A caring mother to their only son Thomas Romero Fernan. Angela also fulfills the duty of a CEO on their own family business. You see, she is the perfect ideal wife any man could wish for. But her husband Sebastian saw all those things from a different perspective. And indeed up cheating on her perfect wife Angela. And now shady things happened that their perfect marriage is at risk.

Her world crumbled right before her eyes. She immediately imagined herself pulling that woman’s hair and strangling her neck. She wanted to confront her and ask her why she would do that to her husband. Ask her where did she find the audacity to steal a married man. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and cry like no one was around. In reality, her self-worth was gone even when she remained composed. She wanted to put all the blame on the woman when her husband seemed to equally enjoy the ass that was on his lap. She could not even bring herself to defend Jack. He willingly kissed and did even more with another woman.

While the wives whispered, the husbands weren’t so subtle, openly congratulating Daniel, who looked like he’d rather be climbing Mount Everest than be here. I bit my cheek to hide my smile. Cara stood at the center of the room. She wore white, expecting to stand out alone. I wore red—the signature style for the queen. She was surrounded by a small group of Mafia wives. If she hadn’t been pregnant with Daniel’s child, they’d have been trying to kiss the ground I walked on. Most of the other women stared at her with thinly disguised disgust. “You’re only pregnant for him. Not his wife. Not our queen,” one openly said.

“See this? He marked me as his mate and as his wife. I am his wife! That is my husband!” But the woman only held my arm tighter. “I know that is why I tug you along with me.” She clutched my chin and forced me to look back at the happy pair. “Look at your husband, Mariana. Look at how he takes another woman as his wife proudly. He never did this to you. He kept you from the world like a dirty secret while he is parading this woman to be his new wife… all while you rot in your goddamn jail for the sin that you did not do.”