Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife

Lovely wife 226

Let me Out!

Let me Out!

Cassandra glared at the man seated across from her. He hadn't said a single word since they brought her in. His posture was straight, hands resting on the armrests of the steel framed chair like he owned the place-and maybe he did. The room was blindingly white, sterile in a way that scraped at her nerves.

"What is this place?" she asked. The walls were padded, the kind found in psychiatric isolation units, smooth and seamless. with no sharp corners, no decoration. The lights buzzed faintly above her, bright and unforgiving. There were no windows, no mirrors, no visible cameras-just silence.

She sat on a narrow cot, her ankles shackled to the floor, wrists cuffed to a strap looped through the bedframe. She didn't know where she was. A hospital, maybe, or some private mental facility-but not the kind with nurses and polite intake forms. This was the kind meant to break people.

Then she stared at the man again.

The man in front of her had a scar running down the left side of his face, sharp and pale against his tan skin. It ran from the edge of his temple to his jaw, clean but deep. His suit was plain. No tie. A dark button-up under a heavier coat. He looked like someone who didn't bother with security because he didn't need any.

Cassandra's eyes darted toward the door. It was closed. No handle on her side. "What is this?" she asked. "Who are you?"

He didn't move.

"Why the hell am I here? What do you want from me?"

Still nothing.

She stood up. Her legs were unsteady, but she walked anyway. The man's gaze followed her. No reaction. Just that flat stare.

"I said-why did you bring me here? If you think this is going to get you something, you're wrong."

He blinked once. That was it.

Cassandra clenched her fists. "You know who I am, right? You must know. Because no one else would pull a stunt like this unless they thought they had something on me."

He still didn't answer.

She started pacing. "If this is about the Italy job-fine. I get it. Naples wasn't handled cleanly. But I did what they asked. I got the deal pushed. If someone higher up didn't like the optics, that's not on me."

Nothing.

Her eyes narrowed. "You work for Vasili? Or Johnson? No-no, they don't use people like you. You're not a paper pusher. You're the guy they call when someone stops answering emails."

in front of him. "So

The man said nothing.

about that girl in Prague, she was never supposed to end up in the room. That was on the agent. I

that contract. I told her exactly what it was. She signed anyway.

through his nose. His expression

she done lately? The twins in New York? They were protected. The producer's daughter? No way. Her father got

man. "So who did I offend? Tell me. Was it some senator's mistress? Another model with a

man leaned forward slightly but

it, but she felt it. That

me," she

Successfully unlocked!

know if that meant

in penthouses for months. One who bought his own island and filled it with pageant dropouts. I know the game. I made it better. Cleaner.

1/2

Let me Out!

them purpose. Exposure. Deals. I have contacts everywhere and they will help me once they hear that I am missing!" She

blinked again, slow and

tell me. What is it?

Silence.

the edge of the bed again. Her fingers clenched around

him once more. "You're wasting your time. Whoever you're working for...

shifted in his seat. He reached into his coat and pulled out a

two men standing near the door stepped forward, took it, and opened it carefully. He

Her body stiffened.

shut. Her head tilted unnaturally against the pillow. Her arms limp. Her nightgown twisted halfway up her thigh. The lighting was clinical, and cold, like the kind you'd find in surveillance shots. In one, her mouth hung open slightly. In another, her hand was hanging off the edge of the bed, still holding a

at

voice cracked partway through.

man in the chair

tried to end your life. These are the images they'll

"That didn't happen.

look

tech is, I never took anything more

overdose."