Page 61 of Wicked Villain

I spend the day in the library, immersing myself in books with the hope of getting my mind back on track.

I read for the whole day, finishing Frankenstein and two other art history books.

At eleven, I decide to get ready for bed.

Lev isn’t back yet. Zoya hasn’t said anything to me, so I assume he’ll be back later.

I want to fall asleep before he arrives. Although we’ve technically slept in the same bed twice this week, I haven’t been aware of it.

I try to sleep, but sleep doesn’t come. Everything I’m worried about rumbles through my mind, keeping me awake.

I lie there for another hour with the scent of my husband tormenting me. It’s so strong, he could be in the room.

At midnight, it’s clear sleep won’t come any time soon, and I don’t think Lev is coming back.

I sit up in the bed, and the idea comes to me to do some work on my postcard designs for the upcoming craft fair at the charity. I wasn’t going to start them until Monday, but why wait?

I get off the bed and grab the bag Mama packed my art supplies in, searching for my idea pad. Within seconds, I realize it never made it here. She must have forgotten to pack it. I can hardly blame her.

What state must she have been in when she packed up my stuff? I imagine her distraught. The image makes my heart ache.

The only paper I have at the moment is my sketch pad. And I never use that for notes.

I look around the room for some paper. I just need a single sheet. Even something rough. I find nothing. Most people keep a notepad in their drawers or Post-it notes. Lev has nothing.

“Typical.”

I stand in the center of the room, thinking. Where can I find some paper? I can’t go stomping around the house at this hour of the night, searching for paper. They’ll think I’m crazy. What kind of house doesn’t have paper, though?

Wait a minute.

Lev’s office. There’s bound to be lots of paper there.

I don’t waste another moment. I pull on my house slippers and make my way out of the room and down the stairs quietly, carefully, not to make a sound.

I go down the side hallway, so I’m not likely to run into anyone.

I reach the office a few minutes later and walk inside. Like the other day, I’m enveloped by the scent of leather and furniture polish. It smells strong, like the place has been cleaned not too long ago.

I walk over to the desk lamp and turn it on. As the room brightens, I’m greeted by shelves with old leather books and glass ornaments.

The other day when I came in here, I couldn’t see anything past my fear. All I could focus on was the hulking man who’d stood behind the desk, who’s now my husband.

I walk deeper inside, scanning the room for a printer. Back home, Papa always had paper in his printer. He also had a cupboard where he kept his stationery.

Maybe Lev has something like that.

I spot a printer over in the corner and make my way there. I check the printer tray, but damn it, there’s no paper inside.

If he has a printer, there must be paper somewhere in here.

I move toward the desk and open the top drawer. The first thing I see when I look inside is a picture of a stunning dark-haired woman and a little girl.

Both have piercing cobalt eyes like Lev, and they’re both smiling.

Something about the woman catches my attention, and I find myself staring at the picture.

The woman looks a lot like Lev. So does the little girl.