Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife

Chapter 163

“Sir, I already made some calls, and it seems that what Miss Felicity Comiingon vad tre. Our people in Maas we already verifying those documents and images” Mondo reported. “Once we verby, we derby taking when

“Good, keep me updated, Liam answered as he looked at his watch. They had speed to have dinner tonight, so he was going home early, “Let’s call it a day” he said.

In just a minute, Liam was already out of the building and in the car ile orthed back at the condo and immediately mellet something special coming from the kitchen. He smiled and made his way toward the source of the scent finding izzy standing over the stove,

Without a word, he walked up behind her, dipping, his arms around her waist and pulling her done. He koned the nape of her neck, his lips lingering there for a moment.

Izzy turned in his arms, slipping her own around his neck. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his as the smiled

“When did you arrive?” Liam asked.

“Not too long ago Izzy replied, dancing back at the stove. “I’m making something specist

He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Something special?” he repeated, a hint of amusement in his gaze.

Izzy nodded, “Just wait and see,” she said with a small smirk, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt as she gave him a soft squeeze.

Liam leaned down, resting his chin on her shoulder, watching her work. The tension from the day started to melt away with the warmth of her presence.

“Why don’t you go change your clothes first? Dinner’s ready in just a few minutes,” Izzy said.

Liam chuckled softly, dipping his head to press a quick, lingering kiss against Izzy’s lips. “Alright, he muttered, pulling back just enough to catch her eyes. He gave her waist a faint squeeze before stepping away, moving smoothly down the hall and up the stairs.

In the bedroom, he stripped off his suit jacket and tie with quick, efficient motions, hanging them neatly in the closet. The hot water was a welcome relief, easing the stiffness in his shoulders and washing away the lingering tension of the day. He ran a hand through his damp hair as he stepped out, drying off quickly before pulling on a dark sweater and a pair of casual slacks,

Liam made his way back downstairs, fingers pushing through his hair absently. The rich aroma drifting from the kitchen was stronger now–warm, buttery, with a faint hint of garlic. His steps slowed as he rounded the comer to the dining room, eyes narrowing at the sight that greeted him.

A whole lobster rested at the center of the table, glistening under the warm lighting. A small dish of clarified butter sat beside it, steam curling, paired with roasted vegetables and a bottle of white wine breathing nearby. Everything was plated neatly, the silverware gleaming, napkins folded with precision.

She glanced up at him, lips twitching at his expression. “Surprised?” she

him. “A bit,” he admitted, crossing his arms loosely,

a seat, a faint frown tugged at his brow. The spread on the table was almost too perfect–the lobster, the wine, the

was months

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Chapter 163

birthday? No, not

birthday? Passed. Her grandmother’s? Also passed.

birthdays and even their death

a monthsary then? He didn’t know

once against the tablecloth, eyes narrowing. He couldn’t shake the

eyes flickered briefly with curiosity as she placed the basket down, tilting her head “What’s wrong?” she asked, arching a brow. “Do you hate lobster or

muttered, smoothing

“Good,” she quipped, sliding into her seat with a faint smirk. “Would’ve been a

irritation or a

if she was,

he reached for the bottle of wine. He uncorked it with a smooth motion, pouring a glass for her first, then for himself. The faint scent of citrus

brushing briefly before he leaned back, a faint smirk curling at the

brow. “Like what?” she asked, picking up

the glass. “Coming home to you. Having dinner like this.” He took a slow sip of

eyes glinted with something warm. “Is that so?” she muttered. “Well,

narrowing with amusement. “Is that so?” he muttered, smirking. “Guess I’ll

though the faint flush dusting her cheeks didn’t

warm, buttery, with a faint hint of garlic

hit

narrowed as he chewed, the rich, creamy sauce of

his fork as he swallowed. The buttery richness of the lobster was there, but the spice nipped sharply at the back of his throat, leaving a faint heat blooming across his palate. He blinked once, reaching almost instinctively for his glass of wine, taking a smooth sip to wash down the