The Wolf and His Wife (Wolf 2)

Then she ended the song.

Everyone looked around at the destroyed glasses then applauded, even more impressed with her talent at such a more intimate level than in an auditorium.

I was the only one who didn’t clap—because I wasn’t surprised.

She sat beside me at the table, cutting her fork into her cheesecake and bringing a taste to her lips. “Damn…this is good.”

My arm rested across the back of her chair, keeping the dogs away from my wife. Every man in that room was an acquaintance I socialized with on a regular basis, but they couldn’t control themselves around Arwen. They turned into horny teenagers who were obsessed with the most beautiful girl in school. They eyed me with envy, wishing she were theirs instead of mine.

I’d never thought she could be instrumental in business. That night, I got more invitations for collaborations than I’d ever had. Restaurant owners asked for bigger shipments of my product, and other acquaintances asked for aged wheels for their dinner parties. They came flooding to me—all because of the woman I married.

But I would never tell her that.

She cut into her cheesecake again and took another bite. “Maverick, you have to try this…” She wiped the fork down her tongue then closed her eyes as she savored it. “I’ve never had cheesecake this good in my entire life.”

When I looked up, I saw a few men watching her, getting off on the way she got off on her dessert.

Fuck, these men couldn’t keep it in their pants.

“I’m good.” I grabbed her fork and put it down, cutting her off from her affair with her dessert. “That’s enough.”

“Uh, I’ll eat all that I want.” She grabbed her fork again. “I don’t care if my hips get bigger.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I grabbed the fork again and put it down. “You’re making every man in here hard as a rock.” That included me. “Now, if you can’t stop eating like a porn star, then you can’t eat.”

“What?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not. Do as I say. Don’t make me ask you again.”

Normally, she would tell me off or smear the dessert across my face, but since we were surrounded by people, she kept her mouth shut. She also probably played nice since she’d fucked up so badly. She owed me—and she knew it.

She picked up the fork and kept eating, this time behaving like a normal person. She cut down the sexiness and did her best to blend in with everyone else.

Good.

“Should we offer to pay for the glasses I broke?”

“No. That would be offensive.”

“How so?”

“Because that implies he can’t pay to replace them. You know how rich people are.”

“I guess it’s been a while now…” She turned her gaze back to her cheesecake and took another bite. “I’ve got a few hundred bucks in my account, so I guess the cost of a single glass is a big deal to me.”

“You’re my wife—which means you have billions in your account.”

She kept eating and ignored what I said. She still hadn’t used any of the money I put in her account. She lived off her meager checks from the opera to buy her clothes and accessories.

I was annoyed with her stubbornness, but I also respected it. She valued her independence and didn’t want to spend my money on superficial stuff she didn’t need. She was a simple person now.

“People here seem to admire you.” She set down her fork and looked at me, guests mingling around us as the night drew to a close.

“You’re confusing admiration for respect.”

“Or maybe they’re the same thing.”

They weren’t in my book. I pulled back my sleeve and checked the time. It was getting late, almost eleven. We still had a long drive back to the house. “We should get going.”

“I wish I could take this cheesecake home.”

“I can have Abigail bake an entire round for you.”

“No, that’d be a terrible idea.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d eat it all.”

I loosened my tie once we were in the car and popped open the first button. We were in my Bugatti, so I sped out of the city and into the countryside, pushing the car to a hundred and eighty kilometers per hour.

None of the cops would dare to pull me over.

She looked out the window from the passenger seat, her dress riding up on her thighs because it was so short. She would normally tug it down, but since it was just the two of us, she let it be.

I tried not to stare.

She had been the most beautiful woman in that room tonight, and that gave me a great sense of pride. She was a trophy I owned, a piece of real estate everyone wanted. Having a wife used to be a pain, but she’d become useful. At least it helped my image…and my business.