Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife

Chapter 31

“Still no call from Izzy?” Amalia asked as she walked into Monica’s room, only to freeze mid-step. Her eyes

widened at her daughter was dancing in front of her phone, wearing nothing but her underwear.

“What the hell-"

“Mom! Will you fucking knock!!” Monica snapped, grabbing her phone.

“Will you lock your damn door?” Amalia hissed, horrified. She yanked a blanket off the bed and shoved it at

Monica. “What the hell are you doing? Are you recording yourself for Calen?”

“Mom!” Monica's face twisted in irritation as she snatched a robe and threw it over herself. “What are you even

doing here?”

“I knocked! You were too busy shaking your hips to notice.” Amalia gestured wildly. “You-I don’t even know what

to do with you anymore! Didn't | tell you to try staying away from that man? What if Izzy discovers this affair?”

“It’s none of your business,” Monica muttered, pouting. “What do you want?”

“The cards are still declined,” Amalia said, folding her arms. “And that damn lawyer hasn't sent this month's

allowance. | thought it would be deposited directly into my account.” She didn’t wait for Monica to respond,

launching into her next complaint. “I had to call the bank to check, and of course, there was no new transaction.

Can you believe that? What are we supposed to do now?” She slumped onto the bed tically. “Do you think

Izzy had something to do with this? | mean... you could be right, but she seemed really angry this time. Why

don’t you just call her and apologize?”

“did, alright?” Monica poured herself a glass of wine and took a sip. “I've tried calling her a hundred times. It all

goes straight to voicemail. She doesn’t reply to my texts either.”

“Then try again. Maybe she’ll answer this time.”

“Mom, it’s only been a few days since she left. What's the big deal?” Monica waved a hand dismissively. “It's not

like her grandfather is still alive or something.”

In the past, Izzy would run straight to her grandfather's mansion whenever she and Monica fought. He was

always there to help her. But now? Her grandfather was gone. Izzy didn’t have anyone else-no friends, no other

relatives. Just Monica and Calen. She'd ccrawling back soon enough. Monica gave it three days, tops before

Izzy would show up, apologizing for this whole “misunderstanding.”

Amalia sighed.

“Why are you so worked up, anyway?” Monica asked, narrowing her eyes at her mother. “Don’t tell me... did you

start gambling again?”

/hat are you talking about?” “What?” Amalia stiffened, her face darkening. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about.” Monica glared at her Mom, | told you to stop gambling. Why would

you-"

“I said no!” Amalia snapped. “I-You know your father-"

“That man is dead,” Monica interrupted coldly. “Didn't | tell you to stop paying his debts? It's not our

responsibility. He gambled away his money, and now he’s got a whole new family. He's not coming back, Mom.

Stop acting like he will.”

Amalia’s face twisted as she shot up from the bed. “You don’t know what you're talking about! He's still your

father, Monica. You can’t just erase him like he never existed.”

Monica placed her glass of wine down on the dresser with deliberate force, her eyes boring into her mother. “I

can, and | will. The man abandoned us, left us with nothing, and now what You're still sending him money?”

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Chapter 31

Amalia looked away, Tier hands fidgeting nervously. “He's struggling, Monica. He's had a hard times

Monica scoffed, cutting her off. “A hard time? He abandoned you He abandoned me. He made his choice when

he walked out that door and found a new family. Why are you still letting him take from us?”

“He’s not taking,” Amalia said weakly, wringing her hands. “He's just... borrowing. He promised he'd pay it

back.”

Monica's laugh was sharp, almost bitter. “Borrowing? Mom, he’s been ‘borrowing’ for years. Has he ever paid

back a single cent?” How could someone be so stupid?

Amalia didn’t answer, her silence speaking louder than words. However, this only made Monica more and more

irritated. She took a step closer, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. “If that man sets foot in this

house just like before, | swear I'll call the police.”

Amalia’s head snapped toward her daughter, her face paling. “You wouldn't.”

“Try me,” Monica said flatly. “This isn’t his home. He has no right to be here.”

“He's still your father, Monica,” Amalia pleaded. “I know he’s made mistakes, but he’s trying-

“Trying what? Trying to bleed you dry? Trying to use us as his personal ATM while he plays house with his new

family?” Monica's voice rose, her frustration boiling over. “Mom, open your eyes. He's manipulating you.”

“You don’t understand.” Amalia clutched the blanket she'd thrown over Monica earlier, her grip tightening. “You

didn’t see him when we were younger. He wasn’t always like this. He... he loved us once.”

“That man you're talking about doesn’t exist anymore. Maybe he did once, but not now. The person you're

clinging to is a leech, and you're letting him drag us down with him.”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Monica. To see someone you loved fall apart like that.”

Monica exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And I'm supposed to feel sorry for him? For the man

who walked away from us? He’s not my problem, Mom, and he shouldn't be yours either.”

Amalia looked up at her. “Please, don’t call the police. It'll only make things worse.”

“Then stop giving him money! Stop letting him control you!”

“I'll try,” Amalia said quietly. “But if he calls again, I-”

“No,” Monica cut her off. “There’s no ‘if. You stop now. Block his number. Do whatever you have to do, but don’t

let him back into our lives.”

Amalia nodded reluctantly, though Monica could see the conflict still etched on her face. It wasn’t a victory, but it

was a start.

Monica turned away, grabbed her wine glass again, and took a long sip. She stared out the window, her

reflection glaring back at her.

Why did she have to be the one stuck with parents like this? A father who had abandoned her and acted like she

never even existed, and a mother who cared more about a deadbeat man than her own daughter.

It wasn’t fair.

Meanwhile, Izzy had parents who loved her-parents who were still looking out for her, even from the grave!

The comparison made her blood boil.