All Chapters of Married to the Devil: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Natasha’s POV She stood there, looking as elegant as always—bright and composed. Slightly older, but she didn’t look like she had aged much. Like she hadn’t just abandoned me seventeen years ago. She took a slow step toward me. “Natasha…” I took several steps backward, shaking my head hard. “No. Don’t you come any closer,” I whispered, my voice low and dangerous as my back collided with Tristan’s chest. He placed firm hands on my arms to steady me, but I snatched myself away from his grip and spun on him. “How could you?” I said, my voice breaking as tears stung my eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t let him. I brushed past him, but he caught my wrist quickly. I didn’t turn around immediately. Tears slipped silently down my cheeks as my chest tightened painfully. “At least hear her out,” he said calmly. My head snapped toward him. A bitter laugh escaped me. “Hear her out? Are you fucking serious right now?” My voice cracked. “How exactly could

Natasha’s POVThe smell of whatever was being prepared in the kitchen pulled me downstairs. I saw Tristan standing there, cooking. He was in a simple black T-shirt and sweatpants, one hand stirring the pot while the other held a wooden spoon. I furrowed my brows. “Since when do you cook?” I looked around. “And where are the housekeepers?”“I asked them to take this week off,” he said, still focused on the pot. “And don’t test my cooking skills.”“Okay, Chef Tristan.” I scoffed. Once he was done, he set the table, insisting I sit and watch him. “Where did you learn to do all that?” I asked, curious. “I have a grandmother, Natasha,” he said, placing a plate in front of me. “It’s that simple.”“I mean… you don’t strike me as the type to enjoy cooking,” I replied, watching him take his seat. He glanced at me. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me yet, Natasha.”I met his gaze. “Whose fault would that be? You’re barely at home.”He raised an eyebrow. “A man’s gotta work,

Natasha’s POVThe next few days passed in Malibu. Between long drives along the coast, quiet dinners, and Tristan’s failed attempts at pretending he knew his way around a kitchen—which forced him to call the housekeepers back. Malibu had started to feel less like a getaway and more like home. After breakfast, we sat in the living room watching TV. “Patricia sent me a link,” Tristan said. “Something about a charity event for couples. Would you like to go?”I curled my legs beneath me on the sofa and turned to look at him. “That’d be fun. When is it?”“It’s tonight,” he replied. “So… would you?”I raised a brow. “Here in Malibu?”He folded his arms across his chest. “No, it’s in Los Angeles.”“How did she even come across it?” I asked, genuinely curious. “She’s in Miami.”He laughed, a soft sound. “She’s nineteen, Natasha. Of course she would know because she’s on the internet.”I smiled. “That’s true.”“So that’s a yes?” I nodded. “Okay, great.” He glanced at his phone before lookin

Natasha’s POVOver the past weeks, Tristan and I had barely stayed away from each other. We spent our days exploring Malibu, our nights tangled in each other’s arms, and somewhere in between, every corner of the house slowly became ours.With the housekeepers only coming in when necessary, the villa became our own little escape. Every room carried a memory of us. Some sweet, some embarrassing, and some that still made my cheeks warm whenever I thought about them.The dresses Ananya and Patricia had secretly swapped into my suitcase turned out to be surprisingly useful. They quickly became my go-to around the villa, and every time I wore one, Tristan looked at me as though he’d forgotten how to think.I picked up my phone and headed to the pool in the backyard before video-calling Ananya. We hadn’t spoken since I left Miami. Between meeting my mom, getting caught up in married life with Tristan, and the massive time difference between Malibu and Mumbai, finding the right moment had been

Tristan’s POV“Tristan.” Daniel’s voice pulled me out of sleep. I slowly raised my head. “You should head home,” Daniel said, handing me the keys. “I’ll stay with her. Your car is outside.”I rose to my feet and squeezed his shoulder once. “Thank you.”I didn’t wait any longer. I headed straight out of the ward and toward the hospital parking lot. The area was packed with too many cars, making it difficult to spot mine in the dark. I clicked the key fob. The headlight flashed twice. I walked over, got in, and started the engine. The drive home was quiet. The city lights blurred past as I navigated the familiar roads. My mind kept drifting to Abuela. The doctor's words echoed in my head. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. By the time I pulled into the estate, the house was mostly dark except for a few lights left on. I parked and sat there for a moment, staring at the front door before finally stepping out. I walked into the house, my steps heavy with exhaustion. I climbed