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Chapter 7-Lydia
Tanggal publikasi:
2026-05-12 12:24:23
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THE DEVIL'S WIFE Chapter 10 — THE PARTY
HAUTEA Callum’s party was exactly what he’d promised, forty people, good wine and an actual laughter. No one here felt sharpened for social combat the way people had at the Whitmore Gala. Nobody was scanning the room calculating influence or networking value. People interrupted each other. Talked too loudly. Sat on kitchen counters with their shoes half-off. Within ten minutes, I felt tension leave my shoulders that I hadn’t realized I was carrying. I noticed Drake, he is not fully relaxed, he seems feels different and less distant but everything is still composed and controlled, but not hidden behind the same level of armor he wore everywhere else. When Callum handed him a drink, he accepted it without that tiny pause he usually had before agreeing to anything. “He's kinda different,” I said quietly. Callum appeared beside me like he’d materialized out of the walls. “If he's with me, he tries,” he said simply. You cannot sense any resentment or pretense in his voi
THE DEVIL'S WIFE Chapter 9 – THE STORM
THIRD PERSON'S POV The fight happened over a party. Not their party but Callum's, which was apparently an annual thing, held at a borrowed townhouse in the Village and attended by people Callum had collected over years of being a person who collected people easily. "I told him we'd be there," Callum said, when he called Hautea on a Tuesday. He'd taken to calling her directly, bypassing Drake entirely, which she'd figured out was partly because he found her easier to talk to and partly because he was gathering independent data. "It'll be low-key. Forty people, open bar, Dom won't have to network — it's social, not professional." "I'll check the calendar," she said. "The calendar," Callum repeated, with the specific tone of a younger sibling who found his older brother's organizational infrastructure both impressive and exhausting. "Right. Sure. Check the calendar." The calendar said they had nothing that Saturday. The calendar was, objectively, clear. Drake said no. "The calen
THE DEVIL'S WIFE Chapter 8 — THE STUDIO
The studio downstairs was better than any space I’d ever worked in before, and at some point I stopped trying to decide whether that was generosity or strategy. It had north-facing skylights, a perfect photography light that is soft and consistent. The floors were polished concrete, the walls are bright white, and tucked behind the main space was a full darkroom I absolutely had not expected. I stood in the doorway for almost a minute just breathing it in. The room had been fully stocked with trays, paper, enlarger, timers, safety lights. Even the thermometer for monitoring chemical temperatures. Either Drake had researched photography far more deeply than I’d assumed, or he’d paid someone very expensive to do it for him. Wow, he really prepared everything. I worked for six straight hours the first day I used the space. The industrial series I’d been trying to finish for almost two years suddenly felt alive again. Abandoned factories, rusted warehouses, the broken architectu
THE DEVIL'S WIFE Chapter 7-Lydia
I asked about Lydia Ashworth at midnight while the car carried us through the park, the city lights sliding across the windows in blurred gold and white.“Tell me about her.”Drake was staring out his side of the window when I asked. Something about him had shifted after the gala. Not relaxed exactly, but less controlled around the edges.“She was part of my life for about two years,” he said evenly. “Four years ago.”“Part of your life,” I repeated.“We were involved.” The answer hit harder than it should have.I looked away before he could notice.“Seriously?”“She wanted something more serious than I could offer at the time.” He finally turned toward me. “It ended without much conflict. We remained politely connected afterward.”Politely connected, all right.“She looked at me like she was trying to solve a puzzle,” I said.“She probably was.”“You don’t sound surprised.”“I’m not.” His voice stayed calm. “Lydia notices everything. She’ll pay close attention to whether this marriag
THE DEVIL'S WIFE Chapter 6 – The Gala
The publicist’s name was Renata Voss, and she arrived Monday morning with two assistants, three folders, and the energy of someone who treated human emotions like scheduling conflicts. “The Whitmore Gala,” she announced while setting up at the dining table, “will include approximately four hundred guests. At least one hundred and sixty of them work in media-related industries in some capacity. Mr. Javier’s marriage announcement will be… notable.” “Notable,” I repeated. Renata gave me a measured look. “Every major outlet will have photographers present. Several gossip publications have kept ongoing coverage on Mr. Javier for years. Your appearance together will become the narrative immediately.” One assistant connected a laptop to the screen while the other handed me a folder. Inside was what basically looked like a biography. “How you met,” Renata continued smoothly. “How long you’ve been together. Your public dynamic, Key messaging.” I looked down at the page. Private relati
THE DEVIL'S WIFE Chapter 5- Behind the Mask
I found him at four in the morning. This wasn’t planned. I’d woken to use the bathroom, padded through the dark sitting room of the suite, and on my way back to bed noticed light under the main corridor door. Not the thin strip of emergency light—full, warm light, coming from the direction of the main living area. I stood in the dark for a moment. I wasn’t his keeper, I was barely his wife. Whatever he did at four in the morning was entirely his business, and I should have gone back to bed. Instead, I opened the door and went to look. The living room was empty, but the light spilled from the kitchen and there he was, standing at the counter in grey sweatpants and nothing else, barefoot, making tea with the same precise, focused energy he brought to everything. He heard me in the doorway and turned. The expression that crossed his face in that first unguarded half-second—before he composed it—was something I would think about for days afterward. It wasn’t irritation at be
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