Page 136 of The Bad Husband

“Stop calling him your husband.”

She pouts in defiance, having a lot of fun at the same time.

“He’s my husband, honey.”

“On paper only.”

She ponders before she fingers my chest.

“Listen up, honey. I don’t know what he told you about me, but rest assured I know more about him than you do. You might think he’s yours because he likes to see you on your knees in front of him a lot.”

I shudder.

“Oh. Sound familiar? It probably does. He likes other things too, and I’m sure he’ll introduce you to them soon.”

“What things?’

She shrugs in a tease, a smile curling her lips.

“I don’t know. You going down on another woman in front of him?

I step back.

She laughs again.

“You didn’t know that? Yeah, he enjoys that a lot. Not only does he like to watch, but he likes to fuck another woman while you watch. Never ask him to do a threesome with another man. He’d kill him by the end of the evening. It’s not a figure of speech. He’d literally do it. Another woman, on the other hand? He’s up for it. He likes to have them both on all fours and fuck them from behind. He likes to lick one woman’s pussy while having his cock sucked by the other. He likes both of them to take turns on him.”

“Stop it,” I bark, unable to suppress my fury. “You’re making this stuff up.”

“Am I?” she says softly, feeding on my turmoil. “You can always opt out. He won’t force you to participate. I just wanted to bring you up to speed on what he likes. And also to prove to you that I know more than you do.”

Footsteps echo outside, followed by a swirl of intermingled voices.

It’s mostly Livia and another woman who works in the house. They seem to quarrel over something, and it’s about who let Henrietta in the house when the door opens and slams into the wall.

Damon’s eyes shoot blistering shafts of fury when he sets them on his wife.

“What did I tell you, Henrietta?” he thunders.

He doesn’t look at me, not even a glance in my direction, and a trickle of fear moves through my frame.

“I’m here to talk to you,” the woman says, unfazed.

“In her room?”

I don’t like that either. Her room?

I have a name, don’t I?

It sounds like they’re talking about me at length.

“Get out, Henrietta,” he says, spinning around, heading to the door. “We’ll talk downstairs.”

In the corridor, Livia is still chiding the woman who’s failed to stop Henrietta from entering my room.

Damon’s steps ring in the house, while Henrietta turns her back to me and heads to the door.

She grips the doorknob and glances at me over her shoulder.