Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife

Chapter 36

“What the hell are you doing here?” Galen's tone was clipped as he pulled Monica aside, his eyes narrowing in

irritation.

“Calen!” Monica's eyes widened, feigning surprise. T-I thought

“Did you take the invitation from my table?” Calen asked, his jaw tightening. “Monica, why the hell would you-

“Calen, how could you not even greet your own mother?” Cecil's voice cut through their tense exchange. Calen

immediately straightened, his expression shifting to a polite smile as he turned to face her.

“Mom,” he said, releasing Monica’s arm and stepping toward Cecil. “Sorry | was late. Traffic was terrible.”

Cecil's eyes sparkled with amusement, though her hands rested on her hips. “Terrible traffic or not, you should

have called. And you didn’t tellyou gave your secretary an invitation.” She gestured toward Monica, who had

repositioned herself beside Calen, her expression carefully neutral. “If I'd known, | would've made sure she had

her own”

Calen shot a quick glare at Monica, his lips pressing into a thin line. Monica pretended not to notice, clutching

her champagne flute as if nothing was amiss.

Cecil, oblivious to the silent exchange, continued cheerfully. “Oh did you know Monica saw Serenity’s

performance last year? Such a wonderful event. | didn’t even know you were there, Monica! You got her

autograph, didn’t you?”

Monica smiled tightly, nodding, “Yes, | did. It was an unforgettable performance.”

Calen’s expression darkened, though he kept quiet. He remembered that event all too well-it was Izzy who had

insisted on attending because both she and Cecil loved Serenity’s music. Monica tagging along was incidental,

and now she was twisting it to appear as if she had a personal connection to his mother.

Before he could say anything, Cecil looped her arm through Manica’s and gestured toward the exhibition hall.

“Come, | want to show you sof the paintings they've brought in. There's a particular one I think you'll love.”

den grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, taking a deliberate sip as he trailed behind them. His

annoyance mmered as he watched Monica chat animatedly with his mother, inserting herself into conversations

and moments she nad no business being a part of.

Cecil glanced over her shoulder. “Calen, where's Izzy? | thought he'd be here by now.”

Calen’s grip on his glass tightened, but his expression remained calm. “I can call her,” he said, pulling out his

phone. Truthfully, he had no plans to attend tonight's event because of his upcoming proposal presentation. The

only reason he showed up was because his mother had informed him that Izzy would be here. Cecil adored Izzy,

and over the years, their bond had grown strong. Letting Izzy attend without him would have been unacceptable

in Cecil's eyes.

As he scrolled through his phone, his gaze swept across the room. Izzy wasn’t here yet. He frowned slightly. She

was not the type to cancel without notice. If she said she would attend, she would follow through. It was one of

the traits Calen respected most about her-she valued her word.

Cecil paused in front of a painting, gesturing for Monica to take a closer look. “Isnt it exquistie? Look at the

brushwork-it's

so vibrant.”

Monica tilted her head, pretending to admire the piece. “It’s beautiful, Mrs. Weiss. You have such a good eye for

these

things

Calen tuned out their chatter, his attention fixed on his phone. He sent a quick message to Izzy:

[Are you still coming?]

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he took another sip of champagne and scanned the room again. Why the

hell would

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Monica cto events like these? This doesn’t suit her! Seeing that his glass was already empty, he took

another glass of champagne and downed it in one go. Then, out of nowhere, he turned toward the door and

suddenly froze.

There, Izzy was standing.

Calen’s gaze locked onto Izzy the moment she walked through the grand entrance. She was dressed in a white

halterneck gown that exuded understated elegance. The clean lines of the dress highlighted her porcelain-like

skin, the soft sheen of the fabric catching the light as she moved. Her hair was styled in an updo, with a few

delicate strands framing her face, and her diamond earrings sparkled subtly with each step. Her makeup was

barely there, just enough to enhance her natural features, making her look effortlessly beautiful.

The chatter in the room seemed to momentarily hush as eyes turned to her. Izzy had that effect, a quiet grace

that drew attention without demanding it. Calen, however, didn’t linger on the reactions of the crowd. His focus

was solely on her.

Yes, this was the Izzy he liked-the one who commanded attention, the one everyone couldn't help but watch. A

strange sense of pride swelled within him. This woman was his. She would do anything for him, kneel at his

command, even kiss his feet if he demanded it. She belonged to him, and no one else.

Without hesitation, he started moving toward her, weaving through the elegantly dressed attendees. He noticed

her gaze shift toward him, and the faint smile on her lips faltered. Calen smirked inwardly. He expected that

reaction. He always had a way of unraveling her calm demeanor.

Reaching her, he slipped his arm around her waist, his hand resting possessively at her side. Izzy stiffened

slightly, her posture straightening in response, but she didn’t pull away. He leaned in, his face close enough to

hers that it almost looked intimate to the onlookers.

“You're stunning,” he said softly, his eyes scanning her face as though to drive the point home.

Izzy didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her gaze flickered briefly to his arm around her waist before meeting

his eyes. Her expression remained neutral, though he could see the faintest hint of irritation in the way her lips

pressed together.

“Thank you,” she finally said, her tone polite but clipped. She shifted slightly, but his arm stayed firmly in place.

You're late,” Calen said, his lips curving into a slight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Mother's been waiting for

you.” Izzy glanced past him, her gaze scanning the room as though searching for Cecil. “I didn’t realize I'd have

an escort,” she replied, tilting her head slightly toward him.

“You're welcome,” he replied smoothly, ignoring the jab. His grip on her waist didn’t falter as he began guiding

her through

the room.

Heads turned as they passed, whispers spreading among the guests. Calen could sense the curiosity, the

intrigue, and even a few jealous glances. He didn’t care. This moment wasn’t about them-it was about control,

about appearances. He leaned slightly toward Izzy again, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

“Smile. They're watching.”

Izzy gave him a sidelong glance but complied, her lips curving into a serene smile that masked whatever she

might be feeling. It was the kind of smile that could disarm a room, and Galen knew it would leave an

impression.

As they approached Cecil and Monica, he felt Izzy shift slightly, creating a fraction of distance between them.

Calen let it slide for now, his hand still resting lightly on her waist.

“Ah, there you are!” Cecil exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Izzy. She stepped forward, her

expression warm. “You look absolutely radiant tonight, my dear.”

“Thank you, Cecil,” Izzy said, her smile softening as she accepted the older woman's embrace. Her tension

seemed to ease slightly in Cecil's presence.

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Monica, standing to the side, watched the exchange with a carefully controlled expression. Her grip tightened on

her champagne glass, though her smile didn't falter. Calen caught the flicker of annoyance in her eyes and

couldn't help but feel a pang of satisfaction.

“Thank you for coming,” Cecil continued, linking her arm with zy’s. “Come, there's someone | want you to meet.

You'll love them, I'm sure.”

Calen stepped back, releasing Izzy as Cecil guided her away. He stayed where he was, his eyes lingering on

Izzy's retreating figure. She moved with the squiet clegance she always did, effortlessly commanding

attention.

Monica sidled up to him, her voice low. “You didn’t tellshe'd be here.”

Calen didn’t bother looking at her. “You didn’t ask)

Monica's expression tightened, but she said nothing. Calen turned his attention back to the room, watching as

Izzy disappeared into the crowd with his mother. For now, he let her lip away, but he had no intention of letting

her out of his

sight for long