Crazy but sweet

  LOLA'S POV...

  I was bored out of my mind. Jolie still wasn’t home, and I had nothing to do. Just as I was contemplating whether to throw a tantrum for fun, my phone rang. Sam. Hmph.

  "Are you free? I’d like us to meet up," he said.

  I sighed. "Oh… I can’t. Not today. Maybe another time."

  "Alright," he said and hung up immediately.

  I frowned. Was he mad? Why did he want to see me anyway? I was about to call him back when I heard the familiar roar of an engine pulling into the compound.

  Oh. Hubby was home.

  I quickly jumped into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. Time to put on an Oscar-worthy performance.

  The door opened, and Jolie walked in. He barely glanced at me before scoffing. "What the heck is wrong with you?"

  I let out a weak, pitiful sigh, making sure my voice sounded like I was on my last breath. "I think I’m sick," I croaked.

  He rolled his eyes. Not even a single ounce of concern. Heartless bastard.

  Without a word, he went to the closet, changed into his casual wear, then turned back to me.

  "Hubby…" I mumbled dramatically. "Come closer and feel my temperature."

  He muttered something under his breath but obliged, placing his palm on my forehead.

  "Do you know what’s wrong with me?" I asked weakly, fluttering my lashes for extra effect.

  "Yeah…" he said, looking dead serious. "You’ve lost your last trump card, and you feel bad because you’re about to lose your cherry. And soon, you’re going to regret it."

  I gasped. "Let go of me, you asshole!"

  He chuckled and stood up like nothing had happened. "Take some medicine if you’re on your period and stop trying to die under my roof." With that, he walked out of the room.

  I sat up, glaring at the door. "Jerk."

  Wait. How did he even know I was on my period?!

  ---

  JOLIE'S POV...

  I sat on the balcony, scrolling through my phone. Tomorrow, I’d be heading to the office to check on my dumb workers.

  As for Lola… My plans for her were still in progress. She had no idea what was coming. I was going to make her cry so hard she’d wish she’d never married me.

  My phone rang. Anna.

  I groaned. What did this woman want now?

  I picked up the call and didn’t even let her speak. "Fuck off, Anna!"

  "Jolie! You’ve been ignoring my calls! What’s going on? Aren’t we going to meet up anymore?" she whined.

  I scoffed. "If I get another woman pregnant aside from my wife, that’s game over for me. Leave me the hell alone!"

  Before she could say another word, I ended the call and switched off my phone.

  "Fuck!" I muttered. I need a willing pussy right now.

  But no, no! Bitches wouldn't leave me alone, and my own wife was the world record holder for craziness.

  I was still deep in thought when I heard footsteps. I turned my head and saw her.

  Lola, wrapped up in a blanket like a homeless puppy.

  She sat beside me, and for some reason, that made me twitch. I wasn’t used to this level of closeness.

  "It hurts," she said, her eyes watery.

  I sighed. "What hurts?"

  "My heart. It’s weak. The fever is killing me," she sniffled.

  I clenched my jaw. Shit. For a second, I actually felt… sorry for her.

  "Should we go to the hospital?" I asked, trying not to sound concerned.

  She quickly shook her head. "No! I’ll be fine."

  She shifted closer, resting her head on my shoulder.

  I shuddered. I did not see that coming.

  I hesitated before gently lifting her head. She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes.

  "Can you… call my grandfather? I want to talk to him," she murmured.

  I stiffened. "Why?"

  "I feel lonely," she whispered. "And I feel like talking to him."

  Her grandfather. The one man who could end me if she ever decided to snitch.

  I gulped. She had never reported my past flings to him, because if she did, every single one of those women would have been severely punished.

  "You feel lonely?" I asked, forcing a chuckle. "Talk to me. I’m here."

  Ew. Did I just say that?

  She scoffed. "How can I tell my enemy my problems? He’ll just use it against me."

  What?!

  I exhaled deeply. "You’re unpredictable, Lola Fayas. Let’s go inside. It’s cold out here."

  I helped her up, and we went back to the bedroom.

  That’s when the dirty thoughts returned.

  I needed to get tight with her. The urges were driving me nuts.

  And she knew.

  She should know.

  ---

  LOLA'S POV...

  I laid on the bed, pretending to be weaker.

  Inside, I was laughing.

  Jolie was falling for all my drama. I couldn’t believe I’d actually leaned on his shoulder. That wasn't me. It couldn’t have been me. Maybe I was losing my mind.

  Then suddenly…

  Sniff.

  What was that smell?

  I wrinkled my nose. It was faint… sour… weird.

  I opened my eyes and—

  "WHAT THE HELL?!"

  Jolie was standing next to me, holding a huge syringe filled with a red substance.

  "Hold still. This will stop the fever," he said, pressing me down onto the bed.

  WHAT?!

  I struggled to get free. "Jolie, STOP!" I shrieked. "I’M NOT SICK! AND I HATE SYRINGES!"

  "Relax, wifey," he murmured, pressing me down harder.

  "JOLIE, I SWEAR—!"

  "You need this," he insisted.

  I kicked. He dodged.

  I squirmed. He pinned me down.

  My breath came in fast, desperate pants. "MOM!" I screamed dramatically.

  He smirked. "She’s not here to save you now."

  My eyes widened. Oh. Oh, hell no.

  I did the only thing I could.

  I bit his hand.

  "FUCK!" He yelped, dropping the syringe.

  I scrambled off the bed, heart racing.

  "Crazy woman!" he growled, shaking his injured hand.

 @@novelbin@@

  "YOU’RE THE CRAZY ONE! WHAT EVEN IS THAT STUFF?!" I pointe

d at the syringe, chest heaving.

  He glared at me. "Vitamin shot."

  "VITAMIN SHOT MY ASS!"

  He smirked. "Next time, I’ll make sure you don’t escape."

  I snatched up a pillow and threw it at him. "STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU LUNATIC!"

  He dodged, laughing. "Oh, Lola… You have no idea what’s coming next."

  I gulped.

  Oh, crap.