Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife

Chapter 21

“What?” Calen’s face twisted, darkening as he processed the words he'd just heard. “What did you just say?” he

demanded.

“She said your idea was wrong,” Monica repeated, her tone almost feigning concern. “Honestly, | don’t know

what's gotten into Izzy. | mean, I-”

“She said my idea was wrong?” Calen’s voice rose in disbelief. “She said that?”

“Oh, yes,” Monica confirmed, her lips curving slightly as she added, “She even mentioned bringing it up with

your father, in person. | mean-isn’t that a bit-"

A low, angry mutter escaped Calen. “That woman-

Monica raised an eyebrow, masking her amusement with a concerned frown. “Maybe you should talk to her...

like an adult.” Inside, she was practically grinning. Manipulating Calen against Izzy was turning out to be easier

than she’d expected. All she needed to do now was let him stew.

“Alright, you know | didn’t tell you this because | wanted you two to fight, right?” she added, feigning

exasperation. “I believe it wasn’t Izzy's intention to insult you. She's just been... off since that last trip. Maybe

she just needs a break? A vacation? She’s been working nonstop for years. Why not consider giving her some

toff?”

Everyone in the office knew that Izzy hadn't taken a real break since she'd started at the company. Holidays,

weekends- even Christmas and New Year’s-she’d worked without a word of complaint, always the tireless

overachiever. To Monica, it was pathetic. Why was she working herself to the bone like she owned the company?

Monica rolled her eyes inwardly. Izzy and Calen as a couple? She'd always known how mismatched they were.

Izzy, the quiet bookworm, and Calen, the thrill-seeker. Izzy would bury herself in all day, while Calen

craved adventure-biking, skiing, anything that would get his blood pumping. They were like fire and ice,

opposites forced together in sridiculous parody of a relationship.

The memory of how it all started still grated on Monica. Izzy, shy, unassuming Izzy, had somehow ended up

dating the very man Monica had admired since college. Monica had never outright confessed her feelings to

Calen, but she’d sung his praises often enough for Izzy to know. She'd been so vocal about her admiration, about

his achievements, his charisma. And then, as if on cue, Izzy had stepped in, snagging the one thing Monica had

always thought could be hers.

The nerve! Monica was convinced that Izzy had done it out of jealousy, a twisted bid to one-up her. For years,

she’d waited for a crack in Izzy's perfect facade, a moment to reveal her true face to Calen. And today, at long

last, 1zzy had slipped.

However, all these thoughts were inside her head. Outside, Monica's eyes widened as she clasped her hands

together, her expression a picture of tic concern. “Oh, Calen babe, | mean, if Izzy thinks your idea is

flawed, maybe she’s onto something. Or maybe not... It's just... | can’t imagine the team being on board if they

think you're disregarding the risks. The project could suffer, don’t you think?”

Calen’s face darkened as he processed Monica's words. “She’s been acting like she owns the place. Saying my

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idea is wrong in front of everyone? And now she thinks she can underminewith my father?”

“Maybe... if she feels that strongly about it, perhaps you should just present it to the board. That way, everyone

can see who's truly right about the project. Wouldn't that settle things?” Monica said immediately,

Calen’s gaze snapped to Monica, his expression shifting as he considered her suggestion. A sly glint flickered in

his eyes. “You know what? You're right.” He stood abruptly, adjusting his suit. “Cancel the rest of my meetings.”

“Yes, of course,” Monica responded with a pleased smile as she watched him storm out of the office. She smirked

inwardly. Who would have thought it would be this simple to push Calen’s buttons? She had been waiting for a

way to make Calen leave Izzy on his own accord. It took her years, and now, Izzy had finally slipped.

Izzy had just made her deathbed!

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Chapter 21

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Calen didn’t waste time. He took long strides to the elevator, punching the button for the top floor. This needed

to end now. The moment the elevator doors slid open on the executive floor he made a beeline to his father’s

office, ignoring curious looks from the staff along the way.

Inside his office, Renard was reviewing a stack of paperwork, pen in hand, when Calen walked in. Without looking

up, Renard continued signing, a faint look of concentration on his face.

“Dad,” Calen said, his voice taut. “Do you have a moment to talk?

Renard’s gaze lifted briefly. He glanced toward his executive secretary, who stood just a few feet away. “Do |

have tfor this, Carol?”.

Carol checked her tablet, then nodded. “You have ten minutes before the call from the UK, Mr. Weiss.”

Renard gave a small nod of acknowledgment. “Alright, prepare the boardroom for the call, please.” Carol nodded,

slipping out of the office to make arrangements.

Turning his attention back to Calen, Renard rested his hands on the desk. “So, what's the issue?” he asked, his

sharp blue eyes assessing his son.

Calen hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “It’s about the Macau project. I'm getting spushback Izzy

thinks my approach is off and even suggested that you might need to get involved.”

Renard gave a slight shrug. “I don’t see the issue. Frankly, | like her approach too.” Renard’s business philosophy

was straightforward and ruthless; to him, the world was a battleground where the weak would inevitably fall to

the strong. It was a lesson he was determined to instill in his son.

“In that case, I'd like to present my proposal to the board,” Calen replied, straightening.

Renard raised an eyebrow. He leaned back in his chair, studying his son. “You want to take your proposal to the

board? Without 1zzy’s input?” he asked, his tone skeptical.

apn

“Let's not waste twith pretenses, Calen. We both know she was behind on every proposal that was approved.

Lying won't help you here,” Renard said, his voice cool.

Calen swallowed, bracing himself. “I can make a proposal myself. This time, I'll get the board’s approval,” he

replied. Renard stared at his son. “You're saying you plan to present your idea to the board?” he asked. “To the

executives?” “Yes,” Calen replied firmly. “I still believe our top priority should be maximizing profits. Her

approach would drain the company’s resources.”

Renard nodded slowly. “If you're set on presenting it... | suppose there's little | can do to stop you, is there?”

“Father, just because Izzy's proposals were approved in the past doesn’t mean she was responsible for their

success,” Calen countered, his tone defensive. “It was a team effort. She handled the paperwork, but the ideas

were all mine.” He hesitated, then added, almost pleading, “Surely you don’t holdaccountable for this,

right?”

“Hmmm... that made sense. Then shall | set it for next week?” Renard said.

“Yes. A week is enough.”

“Good,” Renard smiled. “You can choose your own team of people to help you out. Three people for you and

three people working for Izzy. How does that sound?”

“Good,” Calen said.

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Chapter 21

His father got up and held out his hand. “Then | am looking forward to your proposal.”

Calen nodded, satisfaction glinting in his eyes as he shook his father’s hand.

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While Monica was silently celebrating what she thought was a big step forward in her plans, her mother Amalia

had a dark look on her face.

“What do you mean declined?” she looked at the waitress who stood not too far away from where she was

sitting. “My cards don’t have a limit. It’s a black card.”

“I understand, but...” the waitress frowned. “For sreason, the charges wouldn't go through: Perhaps there

was ssort of problem with the bank?”

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“What?” Amalia scoffed. She looked at her yoga friends who were sitting next to her inside a posh coffee shop.

Amalia took a deep breath as she slowly repeated her words with a smile on her face. “There's no way that my

card would get declined because it doesn’t have a limit. Something like this has never happened before, and |

mean... never. So... try it again.”

“Amalia, things like this usually happen. Perhaps sdowntwith the bank?” Renee, one of Amalia’s close

friends, offered a sympathetic smile. “How about | pay for our coffee today?” Just as Renee reached to open her

wallet, Amalia shook her head.

“What are you talking about? How could | let you pay? Con.” Amalia glared at the waitress. “Just try it again.

I'm sure it will go through now.”

The waitress returned, her expression uneasy. “I'm sorry, ma'am, but... it was declined again.”

Amalia’s smile wavered, and she forced a laugh. “Oh, really? Well, that’s odd. Here,” she pulled another card

from her wallet, this one silver and glinting in the coffee shop's lighting. “Try this one. It's platinum.”

The waitress nodded and walked back to the register. Amalia exchanged a small chuckle with her friends, but her

eyes flicked back to the counter as she watched the waitress swipe the new card.

After a few tense seconds, the waitress returned, looking more uncomfortable. “I'm so sorry, ma'am. This card

also... didn’t go through.”

Amalia’s face reddened, and her hands felt clammy as she fumbled in her purse. “Oh, for heaven's sake.” She

quickly pulled out a third card, practically thrusting it into the waitress’s hand. “This one should work.”

The waitress hesitated but took the card, glancing sympathetically at Amalia as she made her way back to the

register. Amalia tried to keep her composure, nodding and making light conversation with her friends, but she

couldn’t keep her mind off her cards. This was absurd! There was no reason her cards should be declined!

Moments later, the waitress returned, the apologetic look on her face confirming Amalia’s worst suspicion. “I'm

afraid... it was declined again.”

A thick silence settled over the table. Renee reached out, patting Amalia’s hand gently. “It’s alright, dear. Please,

letcover it.”

Amalia’s smile was strained as she took back her card, barely able to mask the irritation beneath her composed

facade. “Oh, I... well, if you insist. This has never happened before. Must be ssort of glitch at the bank.”

“No need to worry,” Renee said warmly. “These things happen. I'm sure it’s just a temporary issue. Happens to

the best of us.”

Amalia forced a gracious nod, taking back her cards and tucking them away in her wallet. She'd used these

cards for years, each one approved by the bank with limits she’d never even cclose to. This wasn't just a

glitch. Her mind focused on one possibility, and a single nechoed through her thoughts.

Izzy.

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