My brows lifted at the morbid nickname.
“You never know when he’s going to get you, but if he marks you for death, rest assured he’s going to deliver.”
This man was scared shitless of my husband. Loud.Humm.
I didn’t torture the man further with my inquires and left him to his guard duties. I wasn’t sure if I was flattered yet that Arjen had threatened death to his men if they got out of line with me. However, I did like the nickname.
The sound of female laughter met me when I reached the top of the stairs, knocking the smile right off my face. It didn’t sound like the sixty-three-year-old cook or the fifty-nine-year-old maid that Arjen employed. By eight, they were on-call and in the three-bedroomed pool house that acted as the staff quarters.
Why the hell was I hearing a female’s voice? And the guard could have given me a head’s up unless Arjen had threatened to kill him for snitching as well.
Our bedroom was the only one on the wing other than the den that acted as our entertainment room. I stopped there first. Standing in the doorway, I took in the scene, letting it run through my mind before I jumped to conclusions.
Sitting on the couch was my husband, and kneeling behind him, kneading his shoulders was a darkly tanned brunette about my size, who leaned into him with her body as she massaged. She kept bending down to kiss his neck and cheek as her playful giggles bounced about the room.
Arjen had removed his suit jacket, as it and his tie were slung across the arm of the couch. Three buttons of his long-sleeved pale blue button-up were undone.
Neither had noticed me standing there with my arms folded across my chest. A deep eye-closing breath didn’t settle the rage that was steadily filling me and deleting every bit of logic from my mind.
A few quick steps had me standing in front of them, attempting but failing to control my untamed temper. I prayed the heat from my blazing rage would burn the shit out of them.
Arjen and the woman jumped at the sight of me, a smile stuck on her face, and him with an expression I couldn’t discern.
“Evening, wife,” he greeted like there wasn’t a whole damn woman leaning on his back, her pink fucking clawed nails pressed into his shoulders while gazing at me. I couldn’t tell if it was surprise or a daring stance she was taking, but she couldn’t seem to get rid of the smile on her face.
“Don’t you fucking “evening wife” me, Arjen Vallin. Who the fuck is this?” I questioned, aiming a stiff finger in the woman’s direction. I didn’t give him a chance to answer because I took a step closer, my leg brushing his to the inside of his right knee.
“Take your fucking hands off him right now!” I growled at the woman, who was smart enough to lift her hands from his shoulders and drop that stupid-ass smile from her face. Their bodies tensed when they sensed I was about a second from losing my shit.
“This is my friend,” Arjen stated. “I invited her to keep me company since I can’t get any type of attention from my wife.”
“Is that so? You obviously don’t know me well,” I replied, my head shaking in that gesture that you hope the person you’re talking to, understands fully where you’re coming from.
He had to have been testing me. It was the only explanation I was willing to accept. I could touch the deathly intention brimming in the glare that I locked on Arjen’s as I lowered my face to his to ensure he heeded my words.
“I can be playful, even passive at times, but letting that side of my personality fool you is a deadly mistake that many have made.”
His mouth dropped open, but he remained speechless, attempting to find words, I supposed. The slightest trace of a smirk brushed across my lips before I reached up, gripped two hands full of long dark hair, and dragged Arjen’s playmate damn near across his shoulder. Her legs flailed about from her coming down off the couch with a loud thud.
Arjen sat, stunned, lips parted as the woman fought to stay on her feet and get away from my crazy ass. If she were fighting me, I didn’t feel it, because my crazy-bitch-strength had kicked in.
It was at the point where anger doesn’t allow you to accept pain, and all good sense was lost, so your mind believes you are superhuman. After the day I’d had, after the bad news that I had received from Corvel, I needed to expel my rage, and Arjen was kind enough to give me this opportunity. The fact that it was time for mother nature to fuck with my hormones on top of it all was fuel to a fire that was already out of control.
“Mecca! Mecca!” Arjen yelled at my back. The volume of his loud voice added to the chaos narrating my actions.
“Aww! Stop! Let me go!” the woman pleaded. “Arrrrjen!” she yelled for him.
He attempted to separate us, but I had a death grip on the bitch’s hair and the shoulder of her dress, while I dragged her across the room. She was bent at an odd angle, her tight dress hiked up over her ass. She screamed like I was killing her, begging Arjen for help between her yells.
I wasn’t sure if she had lost her shoes or wasn’t wearing any when I’d arrived, but her bare feet smacked against the marble floor as I continued to drag her, putting my back into my actions.
Arjen yelled for me to let her go, but I wasn’t hearing shit he had to say. He apparently thought I was a fucking joke.
“Mecca, please! I’ll get rid of her!”
“How dare you come in here and think you can play house with my husband?” I screamed, knowing she wasn’t in any condition to answer me.
Arjen must not have given much of a damn about the woman because I slung the bitch, landing her on her ass before I dragged her by the hair across the floor. Her feet kicked, and her arms waved about, as she attempted to reach back and unhook the tight grip I had on her hair to set herself free.