Page 91 of Wicked Villain

We stare at each other for a moment. We miss the old man, but we’ll never say it out loud. It would dishonor him. Our father trained us to be hard and ruthless. He drilled it into us from an early age that emotions like love, or any sort of sentiment, were weaknesses you never show. You use them to make you stronger, whatever form that takes.

“Something’s bound to happen soon.” I bring the conversation back.

“Yeah. They can’t hide forever. Not from people like us.” Aleksandr tilts his head and lets the silence stretch. I know him too well. He’s about to steer the conversation in a direction I’d rather we don’t go. “So, did you have fun the other night?”

I give him a narrowed stare. “Depends on what you mean by fun.”

“With Izzy.”

Fucker. I’ll bet he’s been dying to ask me that all week. “You know I didn’t see Izzy.” I sip on my drink.

He sighs. “I suspected you didn’t but I was hoping.”

“I’m not going to see Izzy, Aleksandr.”

“Why not? You like her enough.”

“I’m married,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone.

His brows shoot up. “Okay, now you’re making me worry.”

“Nothing to be worried about.”

“Lev—”

“Drop it.” From the bite in my tone, he knows not to push.

He holds up his hands and a dark look of disapproval comes into his eyes. It tells me everything. Aleksandr and I are as close as brothers can be. He knows my feelings have changed toward our enemy’s daughter. But he also doesn’t approve.

That’s fine. I don’t give a fuck.

The double doors open to our left.

Aleksandr and everything we spoke about fade into the background when my gaze lands on the breathtaking young woman who just walked in.

A fitted navy satin gown with a beaded corset bodice hugs her slender frame.

Flowing from it is a floor-length skirt with a thigh-high slit that shows off her long, tanned legs. Her raven hair is swept up in a neat ponytail, displaying the perfect angles of her face and the smooth line of her kissable neck.

I swear every man in the room looks at her, wanting her, craving her.

But only one man here has any claim to her.

Me.

Because she’s mine.

My wife.

The red dress she wore at her engagement party and her wedding gown were both stunning on her, but they had that daddy’s little princess look.

Even the dress she wore to the restaurant the other week seemed to have the same theme.

This dress…

It shows off everything daddy would have wanted to hide from evil, prying eyes like mine.

The most intriguing thing I’ve ever found about a woman is when she’s beautiful and completely unaware of the effect she has when she walks into a room.