Chapter7A Wife in Name Only

“I don’t need it.”

Disgust flashed through Tanya Reed’s eyes—only for Leonard Eastwood to seize her chin, his grip tightening when he caught that look of revulsion.

“You look at me like I’m the monster?” His voice dropped, rough with something darker than anger. “Don’t pretend you’re some innocent victim.”

His thumb pressed harder against her jaw.

““You knew you were going to marry me, and yet two days before the wedding, you were tangled up with another man.”

His gaze darkened.

“You don’t get to act above this. Not after that.”

“Shut up!” Tanya shouted, fury blazing.

“Don’t test my patience,” Leonard said coldly.

Her breathing became ragged under his grip, but she still forced herself to meet his eyes, voice low and steady despite the strain.

“Leonard Eastwood… are you really going to murder your newlywed wife first thing in the morning?”

He narrowed his eyes.

Something flickered—brief, unfamiliar—then vanished.

He released her throat abruptly and scoffed.

“Wife?”

“If you insist on calling yourself that, then do your duty.”

He straightened and commanded, “Dress me.”

Leonard stood up.

Completely unguarded.

Tanya hadn’t expected it—hadn’t been ready—and her eyes caught everything.

Perfect proportions. Broad shoulders tapering into a powerful frame—

She didn’t dare look any further. Her eyes snapped shut.

“What?” Leonard’s mocking voice followed immediately. “Never seen a man before? Still pretending?”

Pretending?

Tanya clenched her teeth and shot back, “Still better than a shameless exhibitionist like you.”

He didn’t get angry. Instead, he smiled.

“If you keep lying there,” he said lightly, “I’ll take it as an invitation to continue.”

“You bastard!” Tanya cursed as she wrapped the blanket around herself and tried to get up—

Only for her legs to give out.

Pain ripped through her body. She collapsed back onto the bed, breath hitching.

Leonard watched coldly.

“So?” he asked. “Can you come dress me now—my newlywed wife?”

He lingered deliberately on the word wife, lips curved in open mockery.

How could someone like her ever deserve that title?

To him, she was nothing more than a tool for revenge.

Tanya tried again, anger driving her—but the movement pulled painfully at her body. Tears welled up instantly, and she gasped, breath shaking.

For a split second, Leonard felt an urge to go to her.

To ease her pain.

Then the thought hit him—her mother.

And he remembered the marks he had seen on her skin—

not his.

The impulse died instantly.

The impulse died instantly.

He stepped forward, seized her chin again, and said coldly, “Your acting is impressive. You really know how to look pitiful.”

With that, he grabbed his clothes, dressed quickly, and walked out without another glance.

The door closed behind him.

Tanya finally exhaled.

Her fingers loosened from the death grip she’d had on the blanket. Enduring the pain, she forced herself out of bed at last.

“Leonard Eastwood… you’re a complete bastard.”

Her gaze fell to the floor.

The wedding dress lay there—torn to shreds.

She spat the words under her breath, then rummaged through the wardrobe for something—anything—she could wear. Once dressed, she stepped out into the hallway.

It was long.

Empty.

For a moment, she thought there weren’t many staff in the house.

She was wrong.

As soon as she descended the stairs, a dazzling sight greeted her.

A massive crystal chandelier—imported from France—hung from the ceiling, scattering brilliant light across a vast living room nearly the size of half a basketball court.

And lining the staircase—

Servants.

Dozens of them.

Standing in perfect formation, stretching all the way to the center of the hall.

Tanya froze, momentarily stunned.

She hadn’t noticed it last night. Seeing it now, she couldn’t help blurting out in shock—

This place was enormous.

And the staff—terrifyingly many.

At the center of the hall, Leonard Eastwood stood with his back to her, pacing slowly. He turned slightly, idly turning something in his hand.

She spotted him immediately.

Messy black hair. Sharp, sculpted features. A fitted patterned shirt with the top buttons undone, revealing clean collarbones beneath.

He was devastatingly handsome.

If he weren’t such a monster, she might have mistaken him for an angel.

But he wasn’t.

He was a demon.

Tanya bit her lip. She had something important to do.

Steeling herself, she walked down the steps toward him.

In Leonard’s hand—

That vivid green object—that belonged to the woman from that night.

“Where the hell did that little wildcat from that night disappear to?” Leonard Eastwood muttered, unaware that Tanya Reed was already behind him.