Vile Messages

Evelyn didn't say anything. But her eyes were scanning the entire room like she was here for an inspection. There was something unsettling about her gaze, the way it lingered on things like she was calculating something far beyond my understanding. I didn't want to talk, but I forced myself to ask, my voice barely steady,

"Is there anything I can help you with?" I asked, my voice calm and collected, or at least I tried to make it sound that way. Deep down, I was terrified of making a mistake—of doing something that might make Alessandro angry.

She turned her head and looked at me with a condescending gaze that sliced straight through my composure. Then, without a word, she walked toward the closet and opened it. No hesitation. No permission.

I froze.

Earlier when I packed my things, I forgot to lock it. I never imagined someone would invade my personal space so blatantly. My breath caught as I watched her examine the closet—her fingers grazing the fabrics, her eyes thoughtful, almost detached.

"What are you doing?" I asked again, but this time I found myself moving closer, almost involuntarily. My important documents were in there. Alessandro’s name on them. Things I couldn’t afford to lose, not now.

Before I could intervene, she laughed—a sharp, piercing laugh that echoed off the walls. Then she turned around slowly, a cold smirk on her lips.

"I am not surprised."

Her eyes locked with mine, unblinking. "Alessandro has really found someone to replace me." She plucked a few of my clothes from the closet—the ones Alessandro had bought for me, the ones he insisted I wear because he hated hoodies.

"How much money did he pay for this little act? Are you really his wife or not?"

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. My heart was pounding in my chest like a warning drum. "Yes. We’ve been married for three years. And I don’t understand what you’re talking about!"

Her smile faded, replaced by a dark glint in her eyes. She stepped toward me, grabbed my wrist and pulled it closer to her.

"I know Alessandro. He’s the kind of man who drowns his woman in affection. Respect, money, loyalty. If you’re really his wife… then where is the wedding ring?"

My eyes widened. Panic gripped my throat like a vice. But I couldn’t afford to mess this up. Not now.

"I… I put it away. We both prefer to keep things simple. Alessandro doesn’t like flashy things."

Her expression shifted. Her eyes, once calculating, darkened. Without warning, she shoved me.

I stumbled backward, crashing onto the bed with a small cry. My palms stung from the impact, but I didn’t have time to recover. She was stronger—far stronger than me. A werewolf. Her strength was like a wall I couldn’t push through.

She stared down at me, her voice low and venomous.

"I don’t like you. I want you gone."

"What?" I whispered, stunned.

"That’s right. Alessandro deserves a woman who is perfect."

"What—!"

"Are you scared?" she asked, her lips twisting into a mockery of a smile.

I couldn’t even respond. My throat tightened. My pulse thundered in my ears. I didn’t understand what was happening. But then, without any warning, she laughed again. Her expression softened unnaturally.

"Sorry. I must have scared you. I was just joking around!"

I stared at her, completely stunned. My brain scrambled to process the sudden shift in her tone, the smile that now played on her lips like we were old friends.

She flopped onto the bed beside me, casually like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"I’m glad he found someone who loves him. He’s a precious person."

I blinked. My thoughts were tangled in confusion. What was going on here? Was this a game?

I exhaled shakily, sitting on the edge of the bed. My hands felt cold. My mind was spinning. I couldn’t understand her. Was she genuine? Had I misjudged her? Maybe it was my hormones. The pregnancy had made me more alert, more protective. Maybe I was being paranoid.

"Come on! Don’t be so silent. Alessandro likes someone who isn't quiet."

Her hand reached out and rubbed my back. It made me flinch slightly. The gesture felt too familiar, too rehearsed. And then she said, as if we were friends sharing secrets—

"Mauve. Do you have pajamas? I need to change this one. It’s itching!" She showed me her neck, where some rashes were clearly visible.

"I’ll grab one for you."

Trying to shake off the uneasiness, I placed my phone on the nightstand and walked into the walk-in closet. She remained lying on the bed, humming to herself. Her voice was soft now, almost childlike.

I felt uncertain, caught between doubt and guilt. Was I being too harsh? Was she truly a good person? Had I simply misread everything?

I returned with two pairs of pajamas. Thanks to Alessandro’s strictness with my body measurements, my clothes fit her just as well.

"Which one do you want to wear?" I asked.

But then I saw her. She was leaning toward the nightstand, her hand brushing over it. I didn’t think much of it at that moment—nothing looked out of place.

She stood up and took the blue one.

"Alessandro’s favorite color is blue. He likes the color because of my eyes."

She smiled, but this time her tone held something darker. That condescending layer was back—sharp and biting.

"Good night!" she waved and left the room.

I stood frozen, appalled. My chest tightened with unease. Was she bipolar? Was this some twisted performance?

And I got the answer the next morning.

The door slammed open, so violently that the echo reverberated through my bones. I jolted upright, my heart leaping to my throat.

Alessandro stormed in, his eyes bloodshot and cold. The gold in his eyes glowed dangerously. His Alpha aura filled the room, suffocating me.

"G-Good morning!" I stammered, my voice small. I didn’t know what else to say. Fear crawled up my spine like ice water. I had never seen him this angry.

Without a word, he grabbed my phone from the nightstand and held it in front of me.

"Unlock it."

"Hah?" I blinked in confusion. "My phone?"

"UNLOCK IT!" His roar tore through the air, deafening, like a beast unchained. The floor beneath me might as well have crumbled.

Tears stung my eyes as I slowly unlocked it with trembling fingers. My breath hitched. My hands were shaking so violently I thought I might drop the device.

He snatched it back immediately, his fingers moving swiftly. Searching.

Then, to my absolute horror, he threw the phone onto the bed. A string of messages was open. Ugly. Vile. Disgusting. Messages that I had never sent.

"I have saved you from forever slavery, humiliation, and death. Do you think I did it out of kindness? I did it because of that woman you cursed last night. How dare you disrespect the woman I love?"

I stared at the screen, horror paralyzing me. No. No, no, no. Those words—they weren’t mine. They were sent to Evelyn’s account from mine. But I didn’t send them. I never wrote those things. No, I never knew what Evelyn's account was from the beginning.

"Do you have anything to say?" he asked, his voice as cold as a winter storm.

"I… I didn’t send—"

Before I could finish, his hand struck my face with brutal force.

A searing pain bloomed across my cheek, and my head snapped sideways. My vision blurred from the sting. My skin burned, tears slipping down without permission.

Alessandro stood there, his chest heaving. His eyes were full of contempt, of betrayal. The fury of his wolf radiated off him in waves. He told me previously. He hated when someone insulted his woman. He even took my hobbies as an insult. Then these messages were... a ticket for my death.

"You will kneel down and apologize to her! Or say goodbye to the compensation money you're supposed to get after the divorce. I don’t tolerate people who bite the hand that feeds them!" He declared, his voice icy.

I didn’t cry out. I couldn’t. I sat there, stunned, heartbroken, trying to breathe. I couldn't find a way to prove to myself that it wasn't me.