My man? Rivana's heart thundered, her mind racing to make sense of what on earth she had gotten herself into. Did Azrael already have a girlfriend? And yet… he'd married her?
"I heard your mother is a whore too!" Marisa spat, her face twisting with frustration. "Seducing rich men must run thick in your blood!"
"Who is she?" The staff who had come out at the commotion whispered among themselves.
"Oh, that's Marisa Vale," a maid replied. "She's Master Azrael's cousin, Enora Dynar's best friend. I heard Elder Dynar was planning to marry them since they were a 'perfect match.'"
The words stung, and Rivana's stomach tightened. The thought of becoming the "other woman" in someone else's life, like the wreckage her mother had left in Faye family and the open scars Rubina had caused in her heart, made her feel sick.
No, she couldn't jump to conclusions until Azrael explained himself.
Taking a steadying breath, Rivana turned to George. "Call Mr. Dynar," she instructed.
Marisa laughed mockingly, setting the glass down. She crossed her arms and sneered, "Why? Planning to whine? Or to hug his thigh and put him against me?
Rivana didn't spare her a glance and kept her focus on the head butler. "George!" she repeated, snapping him out of his shock. George nodded and hurried to make the call.
"What a bitch!" Marisa began again, her tone thick with contempt. "All those rumors about you were indeed true!"
Enora had called her out of the blue last night, telling her that Azrael had rushed to Valencia... to marry someone else. Marisa had arrived as fast as she could, but even her private jet hadn't been fast enough. And now, seeing how beautiful Rivana was, her rage only burned hotter.
"Talk to me, you whore! Don't you have the spine to defend yourself?" Marisa moved closer, pushing Rivana's shoulder roughly. When she tried to shove her again, Rivana caught her wrist.
"Why should I defend myself when I've done nothing wrong?" Rivana replied coldly, her grip tightening enough to make Marisa's confidence waver. "And certainly not to a stranger."
Not everyone deserved her patience or respect. Especially women like Marisa.
"And it was Mr. Dynar who crashed my wedding and brought me here," Rivana continued, her tone calm but icy. "So if you are truly in a relationship, you should be whining in front of him," she added, firmly pushing Marisa back.
Marisa gaped, stumbling slightly. She'd expected a timid woman, easy to bully according to the articles. Not… this.
"You—!" Her face reddened with fury. She lunged forward again, but George quickly stepped between them, shielding Rivana with his strong frame.
"Master will be here soon. Please, Ms. Vale," George said, his voice polite but lined with annoyance. Just because Vales were close with the Dynars, it didn't give her the right to disrupt the peace of this household.
Marisa cast one last furious glare at Rivana and stormed toward the hall. She sank onto the couch and waited for Azrael, fuming with impatience.
It didn't take quite long for Azrael to arrive, not when he was informed something had happened to Rivana. Callum followed close behind, his brows creased in worry having left an important meeting midway.
Azrael's gaze scanned the room, finding Rivana near the dining table. But before he could approach her, Marisa threw herself at him, bursting into tears.
"Azrael!" Marisa clung to his hand, her sobs loud and pathetic.
Rivana scoffed at the display. Now who was trying to "hug his thigh"?
Without a second glance, Azrael brushed Marisa's hand off, leaving her blinking in shock as he walked toward Rivana.
Rivana instinctively stood up as he strode toward her as if compelled by his alluring deep eyes.
"What happened?" Azrael asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he reached out to her. His hand brushed her arm, the touch surprisingly tender. "Are you alright?"
Everyone, from Marisa to the household staff was baffled—no one had ever heard the devil speak with such softness. George quickly stepped forward, detailing Marisa's outburst.
Azrael's face darkened, his hand tightening on Rivana's arm, causing her to flinch. She lowered her gaze, bracing herself—convinced he was angry. And he would soon slander her for raising her voice against his lover.
"Azrael! Let's talk privately!" Marisa cut in, trying to seize his attention, but Azrael pushed her away yet again.
Gasps echoed as Marisa stumbled back, nearly losing her balance from the force. Rivana's eyes widened, a strange warmth in her chest as Azrael stood protectively beside her.
"Say whatever you need to say right here," Azrael declared coldly, in his usual intimidating tone. He casually slipped one hand into his pocket, the other clenched as if barely resisting the urge to punch Marisa.
Marisa's tears continued at his indifference. And her words grew louder, shrill with bitterness. "How could you cheat on me, Azrael?"
Callum snorted. "Cheat? You'd have to be in a relationship for that to happen, Marisa."
"Shut up!" Marisa snapped.
"Oh, please," Callum rolled his eyes, slipping back into his real role as Azrael's best friend, not just his assistant. "Did he ever lead you on? Hell, did he even spare a glance in your direction all these years?"
Marisa's face reddened, the truth in this psychopath's words piercing her pride.
"He's not to blame for your delusions," Callum continued mercilessly. "If you thought you could marry him just by getting your father involved, that's on you. Now get out before he loses his cool and digs a hole in your dumb head." He warned, aware Rivana was Azrael's bottom line.
Rivana glanced up at Azrael, her eyes taking in his handsome features. With such a face, no wonder women would swarm and dream of marrying him. She thought with a small smile. Feeling her gaze, Azrael turned to meet her eyes, his expression softening ever so slightly. Embarrassed for gawking at him, Rivana quickly averted her eyes.
Marisa's mood worsened as she caught their little exchange. Clenching her fists tightly, she turned around to leave but Azrael stopped her.
"Wait."
Hope sparkled in Marisa's eyes and she turned back to him. Wiping away her tears, she forced a sheepish smile. "Yes, Azrael?"
Azrael's gaze settled on the water jug at the edge of the dining table. He looked at George, who hurriedly poured a glass of water, though puzzled.
Marisa stepped closer, a slight smile playing on her lips as she assumed Azrael was finally coaxing her. "Thanks." She murmured, raising her hand and smirking in Rivana's direction, her confidence visibly restored.
But Azrael didn't pass the glass. Instead, he flung the water in her face.
Marisa let out a strangled shriek, stunned as the water struck her face with enough force to leave her skin reddened.
Rivana's jaw dropped in shock, her eyes fixed on her husband's back. Did Azrael just… avenge her? Her heart skipped a beat in response, screaming yes.
Callum and George stifled laughter, watching as Marisa's cheeks flushed with a mix of shock and humiliation. Azrael was known for returning slights in kind, specifically, those who dared to offend him.
Marisa's trembling hand reached to wipe her dripping face. Grinding her teeth, she glared at Azrael.
"You! I won't let this slide!" she screamed, her voice thick with rage. While her glare shifted to Rivana behind them.
Azrael's lips curled into a cold, dangerous smile. Handing the glass back to George, his eyes fixed on Marisa, the murderous glint returning to them. "Try me." He replied, his voice lethally calm yet challenging. "Touch her again, and I will skin you alive."