Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife

Chapter 49

“So, you're tellingthat you don’t even know where she lives ow?” Calen’s face twisted in frustration as he

swerved the car he was driving to the right.

“I told you, I really don’t. Izzy has many properties around San Francisco. | wouldn't be surprised if she’s living in

one of those, Monica responded. “Will you slow down? It's not my fault she’s not responding to anything.”

Monica had been about to go hwhen Calen asked her to cwith him to find Izzy Apparently, Izzy had

been refusing to answer his calls and forwarding all of them to Anna.

Naturally, Monica hadn't wanted to come. Why would she help him find Izzy? She wasn’t that stupid!

Calen’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as they cruised down the quiet street. Monica sat stiffly in the

passenger seat, trying to make herself invisible, but Calen’s erratic driving and simmering anger made that

impossible.

“Call her again,” Calen ordered, his eyes fixed on the road ahead,

“I already told you-she’s blocked me,” Monica said, pulling out her phone to prove her point. She scrolled to

Izzy's contact and tapped the call button, holding the phone out so Calen could see the immediate redirection to

voicemail. “See? Still blocked

Calen growled under his breath and swerved around a slow-moving car. “Then call someone else. What about

her other properties? You said she has more apartments around the city.”

Monica hesitated. “I only know about the two we've already checked. She frequents those place when she

wanted to be alone. The rest... | don’t have a list. Izzy doesn’t exactly broadcast her personal life to me.

“Don’t lie to me, Monica, Calen snapped, his jaw tightening. “You're her cousin. You must know more than this.”

“I don’t!” Monica's tone turned defensive. “And even if | did, do you really think she'd tellevery little detail?

She doesn’t trustanymore. Thanks to you.”

Calen slammed the steering wheel with his palm, the sound reverberating through the car. “Then call her lawyer.

Now.”

Monica pressed her lips into a thin line but reluctantly dialed Miss Alcaraz, the lawyer who managed most of

Izzy's legal affairs. The phone rang a few times before a curt voice answered

“Miss Alcaraz, this is Monica,” she began, forcing a polite tone. “I need to know Izzy's current location. It's

urgent.”

There was a pause before Miss Alcaraz replied, her tone clipped and professional. “Miss Rossi has explicitly

instructednot to disclose her whereabouts to anyone. I'm afraid | can’t help you.”

Monica sighed, casting a wary glance at Calen. “It's a family matter. Surely you can-

“Miss Rossi's instructions are clear,” Miss Alcaraz interrupted. “Good night.”

The line went dead. Monica dropped her phone into her lap, her frustration mounting. “She’s not going to tell

me. You heard her.”

Calen let out a string of curses under his breath, slamming the brakes abruptly and pulling the car to the side of

the road. He punched the steering wheel with a loud thud, his knuckles whitening from the impact. Then, without

another word, he got -out of the car, slamming the door behind him...

Monica hesitated for a moment before following him. “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, stepping

onto the curb.

Calen whirled around, his face twisted in fury. “This is your faul Monica! All of it! If you hadn't stirred up so much

, Izzy wouldn't be avoidinglike this.”

Chapter 49

Ny fault?” Monica snapped, crossing her arms as her glare hardened. “You're seriously blamingfor this?

You're the one who decided to sleep withwhile you were still with Izzy. Explain tohow that’s my fault”

Calen’s jaw tightened, his glare sharp enough to cut glass, but Monica didn’t wait for him to retort. She turned

around and started walking. “I'm leaving”

“What the hell do you think you're doing!?” Calen barked, sermbling after her. He tried to hold her arm, but she

avoided it as she pun on her heel, her voice low but razor-edged. “I don’t have tfor this. I'm going home.

And don’t even think about touching me, or I'll scream so loud everyone will know how you've been screwing me

behind my cousin’s back!”

“You- Calen started, his face twisting with frustration, but the words died in his throat as Monica raised her hand

to hail a passing taxi. He stood frozen as she climbed inside, slamming the door without sparing him another

glance.

The car pulled away, and she was gone.

Left alone in the dim streetlight, Calen swore under his breath. His fist slammed against the roof of his car before

he kicked the tire for good measure. “Damn it!” he growled, his curses fading into the still night air.

Meanwhile, the moment Monica arrived, she dropped her purse onto the couch and marched into the living

room, her eyes narrowed at the sight of her mother sorting through a collection of handbags laid out on the

coffee table.

“What's this?” Monica asked, her expression hardening. “What the hell are you doing

Amalia barely looked up, continuing to sort the bags into neat piles. “I'm selling a few things.”

“Selling? Why? What do you need money for?” Monica stepped closer.

Amalia straightened up, brushing her hands off on her skirt. “I just need it, Monica. Don’t start.”

“Don’t start?” Monica snapped. “You're selling your bags for cash, and I'm not supposed to ask why? What's

going on?”

“It's nothing serious,” Amalia replied, turning her attention back to the bags. “I’m handling it.”

Monica grabbed one of the bags and held it up, her expression dark. “Are you giving money to that man again? Is

that what this is about?”

“Will you stop talking about him?” Amalia’s head shot up, her eyes flashing. Then she took a deep breath and

sighed as if she was trying her best to calm herself. “No! It's not about him.”

Then what is it? Why do you suddenly need cash?” Monica pressed.

Amalia hesitated. “My cards are still not working. This is temporary. | will get them back once Izzy is back.”

“Temporary? What does that mean? Are you in debt or something?”

Amalia sighed heavily, snatching the bag back from Monica's hards. “I told you, it’s nothing. | just need money

for a trip. That's all

“A trip? What trip?” Monica demanded.

To Europe, Amalia said flatly, setting the bag down. “It’s for my friend's birthday. We're going to Italy next week. |

already promised I'd treat them, and | can’t back out now.”

Monica stared at her in disbelief. “You're selling your bags to take your friends on a trip to Italy?”

“Well, it’s not just a trip. It's an all girl's trip. She just got divorce and it's her birthday. That damn Niel left her

with nothing, so

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10:44 Sat, Jan 4

hapter 49

“So you are selling your things to make her feel better!!” Monica asked, surprise apparent on her face.

“What else am | supposed to do?” Amalia shot back. “What will they think ofif | cancel? | have to keep my

word.”

“Are you

you serious right now? You're worried about what your friends will think? That's insane, Mom. What the hell are

you even thinking?”

“It’s not insane. It's called being reliable,” Amalia said firmly, turning back to her sorting. “I said I'd treat them,

and | will.” She glared at her daughter. “Just-this is temporary, alright? | can just buy them back once we sort

everything out.”

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