Page 66 of Wicked Villain

I wait until I think they’ve moved a good distance before cracking the door open. I want to see who she is.

I peer down the hallway, just catching the back of them as they walk away.

The woman has long copper hair and is wearing a mini-dress that shows off her perfect hourglass figure. From the back, she looks as sexy as she sounds.

I can’t see her face, but I imagine she’s pretty.

“You’re not answering me, Pakhan,” she taunts, just before they reach the door.

Lev places a hand on the small of her back, and I don’t know what the hell gets into me, but a spike of jealousy shoots through my gut.

“I’ll see you later.” He brushes against her shoulder, and the feeling in my stomach worsens.

“I look forward to it.” She chuckles.

He opens the door for her and she leaves. I catch a glimpse of her face when she looks back at him over her shoulder. From the little I can see, she’s definitely pretty, and what I imagine to be my husband’s type.

He closes the door and walks back the way he came.

What an asshole. We haven’t even been married a week yet, and it looks like he’s already cheating.

That’s not surprising; the stupidest thing is me.

I should feel nothing. But that jealousy morphs into something close to disappointment. My father cheats on my mother all the time.

Not only am I trapped in this marriage, but I’m slowly becoming my mother, too.

Sunday and Monday night pass by without giving me another chance to get back into Lev’s office.

Both nights, he comes home early and we have the most awkward dinners together.

We barely speak, and he keeps watching me—a sure sign Zoya spoke to him.

When he’s not watching me in that irritating way, he’s answering messages on his phone. Either way, he gets on my nerves. As bad as Papa is, he never allowed phones at the dinner table.

I suppose, though, my alternative is having to speak to Lev, which I don’t want.

I keep wondering what he’s planning, when he’ll strike, what he’ll do next.

Every unsettling thought fuels my trepidation, and I feel like an animal being fattened up for the slaughterhouse.

Tuesday morning, he leaves the house early. It’s been awful sleeping in the same bed with him. I haven’t had much sleep at all, and this week has been dreadful.

The only good things that saved me were that I’ve spoken to my mother and Anushka stopped by for lunch a few times. We’ve grown closer, but I’m holding on to my reservations. She’s still Lev’s cousin.

Lev doesn’t come home that night.

My first thought is that he’s with that woman. He’s probably sleeping in her bed.

I also miss the chance to go back to his office because Zoya is doing her weekly audit. Then exhaustion gets the better of me and I fall asleep.

I wake Wednesday morning to the space empty beside me, feeling shattered and hopeless.

I close my eyes and try to calm my thoughts. I need to make today better, even if all I do is sketch. It will ground me. Then I can set up for tonight.

By nightfall, when Lev still isn’t home, I get my hopes up. I wait until one in the morning, when I’m fairly certain he’s not coming back, before venturing downstairs.

Apart from the guard stationed near the living room, there’s no one around—no Zoya.