Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife

Chapter 28

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“Is this really her financial report?” Calen frowned as he skimmed the pages Beth handed him. “All this for a cultural center?” He snorted, shaking his head. For the first time, he saw just how ambitious Izzy’s plans were. Until now, he’d always thought of her as innovative, but this–this was bordering on reckless.

“She must have known it was over budget,” he muttered. “That’s probably why she had Sherry ‘polish‘ it for her.” A faint smile played on his lips. Izzy was overreaching, and he was ready to capitalize on it.

Calen leaned back, his smile sharpening. “Actually, tell Sherry to make it even bigger. Add a few… enhancements.” It wouldn’t ruin her presentation, but it would throw her off enough to make things difficult. “And over the weekend, I need you to work on the adjustments I mentioned. We’re aiming to cut costs here. Limit whatever you can on the cultural center–strip it down. I want those reports on my desk by Monday morning. Got it?”

“Yes, Mr. Weiss,” Beth and Simon nodded in unison.

“Thanks, Beth. Simon. Have a good weekend,” he said, watching as they left the office. He knew it’d be a busy weekend for them, and that suited him just fine.

Once the door closed, his attention shifted to Monica, who stood nearby in a knee–length dress that clung to her figure. His gaze lingered on her for a long moment before he spoke again. Any texts from Izzy?” he asked, keeping his tone casual.

She was still his woman, after all. Cold and stubborn, sure, but someone with the kind of class his father would approve of- a perfect future wife, if only she could stop getting in her own way.

“No,” Monica answered. She walked toward him. “I thought Izzy’s idea of a cultural center would be good?” Monica suddenly asked. Without a second thought, she sat on his lap and started playing on his laptop.

Calen eyed the door. It was already eight at night on a Friday; all of the staff had left, including Izzy, so he wasn’t worried that someone might walk in on them. He placed his hand on her leg. “I did a little research, and it seems that she’s right. A cultural center would work, but… hers was over the top. Father didn’t examine the reports when he was there. He liked the idea of a cultural center too, so I thought there’s no harm in presenting something like that in front of him.” However, Calen would make sure he was better, bolder, and even more innovative. Izzy focused on adapting to the local culture, but Calen was focused on something else.

Something he knew everyone would like.

Technology.

Monica frowned, her brows knitting as she glanced at the numbers on the screen. “I don’t understand a thing you’re saying.” she admitted, flicking through the report with disinterest. “All this talk about budget cuts and technology… why don’t you just make the place flashy and luxurious like everyone else does?”

Calen smirked, his hand still resting on her leg. “Izzy’s idea might have its merits, but she’ll lose this game. She’s too focused on the cultural angle. And that’s fine–she’s playing it safe. But I’m going for something better, something Father can’t ignore.”

shifted, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “But why are you so… happy that she’s doing this? You’ve never been this

drummed his fingers lightly on her leg, eyes distant for a

I’m sure of that,” he finally said, a glint in his eyes. He didn’t need to spell out the rest. Winning this project meant he’d prove to everyone, especially his father, who was the

of nowhere, his hand moved up to Monica’s chest. He unashamedly massaged it, making

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Chapter 28

said, her

say?” he asked.

Calen suddenly pulled the front of her dress, ripping it

two souls enjoying each other’s bodies echoed inside the

room within the mansion that seemed more like a private retreat than just another guest room. Warm, muted lighting

far wall, tasteful but uninviting for the purposes of sleep. Beyond the bed was a small living area

most committed fashionista. To the right, double doors led to an en–suite bathroom complete with a freestanding tub,

what felt like the hundredth time, her gaze moving suspiciously from the plush bed to the couch. “And you don’t

allure of it, stubbornly eying the couch. As luxurious as it looked, a couch would still be a couch.

teacup. She could smell the faint, calming notes of chamomile drifting in

like the room?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “If it’s not to your taste, we can always ask Grandfather to make a few

to let herself sink into its embrace. The mattress was firm yet soft enough to cradle every part of her perfectly. She let her legs dangle over the edge, sighing as the luxury washed over her. “What kind of bed is this?” She couldn’t hide the awe in her voice. Her own bed, she now realized, had nothing on this

he’d just stated the weather. Without warning, he strolled over, sat down beside her, and then, to her complete surprise, stretched out on his back next to her, his gaze fixed on the

him a look. “A bit

move, just gave a faint smirk. “I suppose

his profile soft in the dim light. She’d known him for more

Weird, she thought.

Surely, he wasn’t that vain right? And why did he