The Devil's Wife

2. Attack A Lion In His Den

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Alexandro did not particularly care for Eden. She was nothing but a pawn in his game. But he looked around for her after one of his new business associates asked him to be introduced to her for the third time.

"Oh, Eden is not the kind to hang around at a business party." Raquel spoke up, "She prefers the glitz and glamorous ones so she must have retired to her room already."

Alexandro's gaze grew colder. "I specifically told her to be here."

Yes, he had. Through his trusted assistant. Except the instruction had never reached her because Raquel had opted to omit it.

“Alex, you know how she is. Aloof and always in her own world.” Raquel tsked as if talking about a disobedient teenager. She gestured a waiter over and picked up two flutes of champagne, handing one over to him. “I never quite understood why you married her in the first place.

Alexandro scowled as he took a sip. “I don’t pay you to know the details of my personal life, Raquel.”

Anger and jealousy boiled in the pit of her stomach, but Raquel forced a tight smile. “Of course, I know I should not over-step. But it seems like Eden Sinclair is not interested in stepping into your world at all.”

Alexandro grew all the more irritated - he hated the name Sinclair, and that was exactly what Raquel was aiming for - reminding Alexandro that Eden was a Sinclair.

“She can go to hell for all I care.” He muttered, throwing back the alcohol into his mouth in one go and calling over the waiter for another.

“Alex, calm down.” Raquel placed a hand on his chest. “You do not want her to affect your good mood, do you?”

Alexandro wrapped his hand around her smaller one and Raquel felt her heart pick up pace. He had never done this before.

Just as she was about to say something, someone yanked her away by her hair.

Raquel squeaked in shock and pain.

Alexandro looked stumped as he let her hand go.

“Eden, what the hell are you doing?” He asked. But before he could get any more words out, Eden had grabbed the flute of untouched champagne in his hand and splashed it over his face.

“What the hell, Eden?” Raquel squealed. And that had Eden taking her flute of champagne as well and throwing it in Alexandro’s face.

“Have you gone crazy, Eden?” Raquel had never seen Eden like this - no one had ever seen Eden like this.

She was supposed to be the doormat, the punching bag - not the crazy woman who insulted her husband at his own party in front of all of his esteemed guests.

Eden glared at Raquel, “You.” She pointed a finger at the assistant. “Know your place. You are not my boss. You are just a b***h who feeds off my husband’s hands. Don’t forget where you and I stand.”

“Do not make a scene, Eden!” Alexandro hissed. “It was nothing.” The man was talking about Raquel’s hand on his chest and his hand on hers.

“Nothing?” Eden was talking about the moments of absolute terror for her own dignity that she had gone through moments ago. “NOTHING?”

“Eden-” Raquel started but she turned around to glare at her.

“One, it’s Mrs. Gretto – scratch that – It’s Ms. Sinclair or Madam to you. Don’t call me by my name as if we are buddies. We are not. You are an employee. That is all you are.”

She then turned back to her furious but stumped husband. “And you! Have you burned through all the money you cheated out of my family that you have stooped to a lower level?”

Alexandro’s whole face heated up and turned red.

After four years of marriage, the gossips were only dying down that he had married Eden for her inheritance - that the sole reason for him to marry Eden Sinclair was the clause in her grandfather, Desmond Sinclair’s will that whoever married Eden would get his forty percent shares of the Sinclair Enterprises.

And now she was calling him out in front of all these gossip mongers.

“How vile and jealous are you?” He spat, taking the napkins from a waiter who had brought them to him and patting his face dry with it. “Just because Raquel placed a hand on my chest, you are making up stories now? Making a mountain out of a molehill?”

Eden snorted and then giggled and then started laughing uncontrollably, hysterically like a complete maniac.

“Our deal is off, Alexandro!” Mr. Ferraro barged into the room, a bloodied handkerchief pressed to his nose. “Your b***h is rabid. She belongs in a mental asylum!”

Eden flinched away from the man - she had been brave a moment ago but dread and fear seeped into her soul.

After all, she was in a room full of people who could not care less what happened to her.

What if they were all in on it?

She was so angry that she had not thought of the consequences of her actions.

She realized too late that she should have ran while she had the chance.

“What did you do, Eden?” Alexandro grabbed her harshly by her shoulders. “What on earth is Mr. Ferraro saying?”

“That I spoiled the deal for you.” She spat out.

Alexandro clenched his jaws, trying to rein in on his temper. “Why would you do that?” His voice was deadly calm.

But hers was deadlier. “I don’t know how it’s done in Italy, Alexandro Gretto, but in the US, we do not sell our wives just to finalize a deal.”

Collective gasps resonated around the hall as Alexandro abruptly retrieved his hands from her as if he had been burned.

“What kind of ridiculous nonsense are you spewing?” His eyes burned with anger. “You would accuse me of such a hideous crime?”

“Oh, you are more than capable of doing it.” Eden spat out - she was stuck in the lion’s den anyway. She might as well say her piece before she was ripped apart. “And you have done it. In Mr. Ferraro’s words, you were more than generous to let him have some fun with me.”

Each one of her words was a slap to his face.

Alexandro fisted his hands and took a step forward, noting for the first time the faint bruises on Eden’s arms and a slight rip in her sleeve from when she had pushed the man away from her.

“Did he touch you?” Alexandro asked, his voice vibrating with barely contained fury.

Eden scoffed, gritting her teeth from her own anger - she knew what he was doing. He was changing the narrative, trying to make it look like he had no idea what was going on and his wife had somehow misunderstood.

And she was not going to stay around to be a prop in his play.

Eden turned on her heels and walked away in the opposite direction.

Alexandro called her name one time but she pretended to not hear it.

“There must be some misunderstanding.” Raquel chuckled nervously as she looked around and addressed the crowd. “I am sure Eden misunderstood.”

“Get out!”

She flinched at the booming growl from her boss.

“Alex…” She stepped forward to placate him but he held up a hand to stop her.

“The party is over.” He said in the same tone. “Everybody get the hell out!”

There were whispers and open speculations but everyone knew the power of Alexandro Gretto, the man who juggles two superpower companies in his hands. No one dared disrespect him.

Mr. Ferraro also turned to leave.

“Not you.” Alexandro grabbed him by his arm.

Mr. Ferraro felt chills in his body as he turned around. “I do not – I don’t wish to – associate with you.” He stammered out.

“I showed my hospitality because you are my father’s friend, and you are Italian. But in return, you assaulted my own wife?”

Raquel tried to intervene but was subdued by one look. He jerked his head to the door and she scurried away like her ass was on fire.

Alexandro turned his deadly gaze back to the Italian.

“You saw the nice, welcoming Alexandro Gretto. Now you will see the side - the monster - that my wife believes I am capable of.’

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