Reclaiming My Wife

Nishant Mehta is CEO of Mehta groups of company. He is very rich and famous business tycoon. He's natural is not calm he is aggressive rude business minded person. He is eligible bachelor. But still he find her school friend. Which is now disconnected with him because of time. And the other hand isha is innocent soul very calm nature she is happy go Lucky girl. But her financial condition is not as good as compare to Nishant. She is completed her graduation and find job. What happens if he will tie a knot with her he will make her life like hell. Bcoz he doesn't know that she is her school friend which he likes her most but now he is just unknown that he hurt that same girl bcoz he don't know that she is the same girl he crave for.

This is the second book of The Billionaire’s Wife and the Mistress (Book 1) IMOGEN WARREN She caught her fiancé cheating. Luckily, she wasn’t stupid — she had signed a contract: whoever cheats first loses everything. Now her ex is bankrupt and furious, spreading nasty rumors. Rumors that say Imogen is cold. Frigid. A woman who doesn’t know how to satisfy a man. Fine. If they want to humiliate her? She’ll find a man to prove them wrong. But the stranger she chooses… feels dangerously familiar. Handsome. Dangerous. Cold. Why does she feel like she’s met him before? And why can’t she remember? ADAM WILSON Once a bastard who cheated on his sweet, patient wife — Maya. Karma came for him in many ways. The worst? Erectile dysfunction. A punishment he accepted without complaint. “She’s dead. My dysfunction is a blessing. I’ll raise my twins alone and focus on work.” But what happens when he meets Imogen? A woman with Maya’s face… A woman who makes his so-called dysfunction instantly disappear?

"Honey, the washing machine's making that buzzing sound again. Can you fix it please?" I got up from my desk and walked over. Just as I placed my hand on the washing machine, a wave of numbness surged through my body. My heart pounded wildly before I convulsed and collapsed on the floor. Just before everything went dark, I heard my wife on the phone. "He has collapsed. He should be dead by now." The power outlet continued to hiss and buzz, like the mocking laughter of a devil. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my wife asked me to fix the washing machine. I then decided to secretly follow her, only to discover she was posing as a topless model for her art teacher.

When I took my five-year-old son, Ethan Drake, for a routine medical checkup, I noticed an additional renal function test listed on the report. “This is a mandatory item for kidney donor matching. Didn’t you know?” the nurse asked. Her explanation left me confused. “The checkup I booked didn’t include this test. Could there have been a mistake?” “There’s no mistake. The appointment was made by Ms. Serena Vaughn. She specifically added this item.” The Serena the nurse mentioned was my wife. At that moment, my sharp eyes caught another form in her hand: [Diagnosis: Polycystic Kidney Disease. Patient: Noah Vaughn. Family: Serena Vaughn.] I immediately called Serena. “The nurse said you scheduled a kidney donor matching test for our son. What’s going on?” There was a three-second pause before she spoke. “The nurse must have made a mistake. I’ve been busy lately. Don’t call me if there’s nothing important.” I smiled and told her I’d do that. Then I turned to the nurse and asked, “Which ward is Noah staying in?”

My wife, Wendy Sinclair, has a severe sleepwalking disorder. After she falls asleep, she always wanders out in a state of unconsciousness. The night before our wedding, she disappears without a word. I have no choice but to postpone our wedding. Only then does she walk out of her childhood friend's house next door, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Afraid I might overthink, she cries and apologizes to me. "There's no cure for my condition. From now on, just tie me up when I sleep, okay?" I feel sorry for her, so I just change the door lock to make sure she cannot go out. But in the middle of the night, I wake up and see her standing on the edge of the balcony. She climbs in through the window and goes into her childhood friend's house again. Soon, suggestive and intimate sounds come from inside. My blood runs cold. Her sleepwalking isn't an illness at all—it is out of love.

After a painful divorce and six months off the radar, Bella returns to the city with a new energy, and a mysterious aura. She’s the billionaire doctor Dominic, her ex husband has been looking for.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my wife, who had struggled with fertility for years, suddenly felt nauseous. The college student we had been sponsoring panicked and rushed her to the hospital. Half an hour later, she called me. "I'm pregnant." I was thrilled, until her next words froze me in place. "The father's the college student, the one we've been supporting. He got sick that night and I felt bad for him, so I stayed over. I didn't think anything would happen. We have to keep this quiet. He's graduating soon and joining our company. We can't let this mess things up for him. "And you need to quit your job, so he can take your position. I'm going to need you home to take care of me." The sheer audacity left me speechless, but I kept my voice level. "Okay." She hung up, satisfied. What she did not know was that years ago, someone had made me a promise. If I turned 30 years old and still did not have a child, she would give me one. Today was my 30th birthday.

I secretly ordered a delivery of a thousand roses for my wife's birthday, hoping to surprise her. After the delivery was completed, I got a message from the delivery guy. [By the way, I tossed the trash by your door on my way out. Didn't expect you to be so kinky. Good for you, man!] He even sent me a photo. In the picture was an open trash bag stuffed with shredded pantyhose. My mind went completely blank. I was overseas on a business trip. My wife was the only one at home.

I cooked up a storm for our seventh wedding anniversary. However, my CEO wife took a couple of bites before leaving in haste for some work emergency. I trailed behind her, only to find her entering an upscale event space where she held a sip-and-see event for the twins she had through surrogacy. Pulling out a centurion card, she handed it to her male secretary and uttered solemnly, “You’ve done well, Dale. Everything I own will go to the children.” Dale, his eyes sparkling, pressed his lips against hers. “Ms. Markham, it’s my honor to have children with you.” With a scoff, I pushed open the door to the hall. I’d like to see how the guy managed to have children with a woman who was born with underdeveloped ovarian follicles.

On our seventh anniversary, an event planner called, already hyping up my wife, Talia. "Ms. Sweeney, we're putting a family photo of you four in the main hall. And some shots of your little princess. That okay? Also, can you confirm your son carrying his sister onstage?" I froze. There were only two people in our house—Talia and me. A family of four? Two kids? I called Talia, the hotel's general manager. She brushed it off. "Probably a client. Wrong number on a contract. I hand out cards all day." I stared at the balloons and flowers I'd set up in the private room—then swiped them all to the floor. Gone. I turned and called my sister, the Director of the Business Compliance Bureau. "Naomi, Talia's cheating. She's got two kids. Get me the best divorce lawyer. I want her out—and out of my hotel."