The Billionaire's Mistaken Wife.

Chapterfive

Logan

"The report says we have a twelve percent decrease in profit for the quarter. If we want to reach our profit quota for the year, we have to increase sales by twenty three percent." My head of finance said.

Usually, I would be paying attention to what he was saying and trying to figure out the next move, but at the moment, all my focus was on my wife.

There was something different about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

After she had disappeared a month ago, I had turned this city upside down searching for her, only to find her in the hospital wearing rags.

Vivienne was more subdued. She hadn't even acted excited after getting the red Porsche she had always wanted.

"Sir, are you paying attention?" Mr. Graham asked, sounding surprised.

"Have my assistant cancel all my meetings." I informed him, rising to my feet. "I have somewhere to be."

As soon as I climbed into the back of my Rolls-Royce, I called my wife's driver. "Where is she?" If I had to guess, I'd say she would be shopping or out having lunch with her fellow empty headed girlfriends.

"Uh, she's at home sir."

"What do you mean she's at home? What about earlier?"

"She hasn't left the compound all day sir."

Was Vivienne sick or something? I ordered my driver to get me home, mind racing with thoughts. It wasn't that I cared if she was well. In fact, I'd be more than happy to see her breathe her last breath.

Vivienne had gotten me drunk and trapped me into a marriage with a fake pregnancy. And now, I was going to make sure her life was miserable. There would be no escape for her from this hell until she had wept blood.

As soon as I stepped into the house, the smell of something enticing assaulted me.

My chef only made breakfast and dinner, so who the hell was in my kitchen?

I stepped into the kitchen and found none other than my wife turning something on the cooker and whistling happily.

"What the hell are you doing?" I barked, causing her to whirl around in fright.

"Logan, you're h-home." She swallowed, looking nervous.

"What's going on here? Since when do you know how to even boil a kettle of water?" Vivienne was a rich, spoilt heiress, and as soon as she had realised her family's company was crashing, she had set her sights on me to maintain her life of roses.

"I wanted to make lunch."

I stared around suspiciously, wondering if there was a hidden camera somewhere. "Is this some sort of prank? Some plot to get me to increase your allowance, because I won't."

For a second, I thought I saw sadness in her face, but it was immediately replaced by a look of contempt. She rolled her brilliant green eyes at me.

"I was bored, okay?" She snapped. "That's why I decided to experiment with some ingredients. Anyway, it's your fault that I'm cooking like a beggar. You haven't even given me my shopping card yet."

Now it made sense why she hadn't gone shopping. Bitterness filled me. Vivienne was a beautiful woman and everyone praised me for getting myself such a prize, but if only they knew how rotten she was on the inside.

I reached into my suit pocket and pulled out her credit card, flinging it at her. "Here you go."

It landed on the floor, and I sneered at her. "Go ahead, go on your knees and take your card. It's all you want from this marriage after all."

I saw her eyes glitter with tears, but I didn't care. She deserved this for daring to trap me into a marriage. She would have all the money she had wanted, but the price will be great.

I wasn't surprised when Vivienne dropped down to her knees like a dog and grabbed the credit card. Disgusted, I turned around and stormed to my room.

Less than thirty minutes later, I saw an alert on my phone for a withdrawal of three hundred thousand from her card. It struck me as odd that she had requested that amount the other day and it was now the first expense she made.

I was heading out of the house when my wife returned.

"What was the three hundred thousand for?" I demanded.

"None of your business." She snapped, trying to move past me.

I grabbed her before she could escape. "If I find out that you're spending my money on your boy toy, I'll _"

"You'll what? You'll destroy me?" She snarled. "I'm sick of your threats. You already treat me like dirt. How much worse can it get?"

As she made to walk away again, I grabbed her hand, "I know all about Liam, the man who you've been cheating on me with. Did you think I wouldn't find out? I know every move you make Vivienne. You can't fool me."

She smirked at me. "I'm already fooling you."

I watched her walk away, wondering what she was talking about.

Just then, my phone began to buzz with an incoming call. "Hello?"

"There's something you should know sir," my private detective said as soon as I picked.

"What is it?"

Another call came through and I immediately had to hang up on the first call. "Yes?" I barked.

"Sir, your personal assistant was caught leaking company secrets to the opposition. I've fired her."

I growled in anger. "This is the tenth personal assistant I'm firing in the space of two months. Can't we find a single loyal person in the whole of America? Get me another person before today ends, and increase the starting salary."

I hung up and called back the private detective, "Find out who is paying my staff to betray me."

"There's something you need to know about Vivienne_"

"I don't care about her. Do as I ask." I hung up, wanting to fling my phone away.

At that moment, I spotted my wife coming downstairs, fully decked in designer wear, causing my anger to multiply. After everything she had done, she had the guts to continue enjoying my money.

I marched toward her. "From today onwards, you're going to earn your keep here. I'm taking away your monthly allowance. You're going to work to afford your designer outfits."

I expected my useless wife to start screaming in anger, but she simply asked. "What job?"

"You're going to become my personal assistant."