บททั้งหมดของ The Wife He Underestimated : บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 5

❧ Somebody is going to die tonight. I can sense it from the tensed guards. See it in the forced smiles and fake laughters as our host calls for more wine. The fat man is laughing loudly, but his eyes remain cold and calculating. I grab my husband’s arm when the potbellied man looks away. “I don’t think you should do this deal” my voice is low, as laughter erupts around us. He shrugs me off angrily. “You don’t get to decide what deal I make. Your job is to sit and smile. You only speak when you’re spoken to.” I take in his face. Even when he’s glaring, Sebastain is ridiculously good-looking. With his startling golden-brown eyes, and thick, dark curls, he might have been a model in another life. I’m tempted to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, like I used to do when we were younger. But I don’t. It would only annoy him more. “If you’d excuse me Walter, my face could use a little touch up.” I address our host, the man Sebastain is con

❧In the week that follows, my life is miserable. I’m either crying for Lena or trembling at the thought of my punishment. I keep waiting for guards to burst into my room at any moment and drag me to the torture room. But nothing happens.Even though Sebastain hasn’t said a word since the night I slapped him, I’ve noticed how he took out his anger on other people. The bodyguard who watched everything happen, died in a car accident some days later. Majority of the maids working in the house that night, who could have overhead our argument, are nowhere to be found. When I asked the head maid about the others, she told me they were away to see families. Yet she wouldn’t meet my eyes the whole time she was speaking. I understand what happened, Sebastain has killed them all because they witnessed me disrespecting him. I wonder when my own death would come. I’m still thinking about it when a knock sounds at my door. “Come in” I sit up, ready for

❧ “At this rate, we’ll get downstairs when the party is over.” I sigh in defeat, glancing at my half-styled hair in the mirror. The two maids behind me exchange a glance and one begins to bite her nails. “Sorry, we’ll try to hurry up. You’d definitely love your hair and the delay would be worth it.” The first maid squeaks. Her hands are trembling so much and the comb falls. Again. “I don’t know if I want this hairstyle anymore. You guys have been at it for hours.” My mouth opens in a wide yawn, and I shift in my seat, trying to find a more comfortable spot for my stiff buttocks. “Please ma’am, just a few more minutes. We really want you to look good.” The maid pleads. “If you can’t remember how the hairstyle’s supposed to be done, It’s okay.” I stifle another yawn. “I’ll just go downstairs like this.” “NOOO.” The maid shouts. She seems to realize her mistake and instantly clamps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide w