Reborn Twice The Billionaire's Wife Strikes BackChapter 1
Two lifetimes. Both times, I married Dominic Calloway.
In every life, he sat at the top of the Calloway empire, untouchable.
And I was the wife his world demanded: poised, gracious, tireless. I managed the household and the business without complaint, exactly as the Henson family had raised me to be.
He used to hold me close, satisfaction dripping from every word.
"Ava Henson, you're the most sensible woman I know."
In my first life, he used that trust against me. He and his precious soulmate drained every asset I had, buried me under mountains of debt, and left me to rot in prison. I died in disgrace.
In my second life, I was smarter. I locked down the assets, convinced I could protect myself and the Henson family. But he implanted his and his soulmate's fertilized embryo into my womb. I carried their son. I ran their company. And when I was dying of illness, he waltzed in with her and the boy, took everything, and threw me away like garbage. Again.
Every lifetime, the script was the same.
"Ava, money is just material. You have the Calloway name. You have my love. Isn't that enough?"
"The Prescotts went bankrupt. Fiona needs the shares more than you do. As the man of this family, I should help her."
This third time around, I listened to the same vile lines and smiled.
"Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you say. Miss Prescott really is pitiful. If you want to help her, go right ahead."
After all, I was only here to collect what was owed to me. Who he handed the Calloway Group to was none of my damn business.
……
Dominic's car pulled into the driveway of the estate. I stood inside the foyer and didn't move.
Erica Lambert walked over, her voice low and careful.
"Ma'am, Mr. Calloway is home."
I blinked, my gaze drifting to the black luxury sedan parked beyond the window.
By habit, I should have gone out to greet him. Taken his coat, carried his briefcase, walked him into the living room. Then served the dinner I'd spent hours preparing, drawn his bath, adjusted the lamp in his study to the exact brightness he preferred.
I'd been the perfect wife for two entire lifetimes.
Flawless.
So flawless that even I had believed it. That I was simply born gentle. Born accommodating. Born to serve.
But this time, the thought of it made my stomach turn.
No amount of devotion could wring a real heart out of a man who didn't have one.