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She dips her chin, then gives me a smile. “That was all, everything else I have under control.”
I hum, knowing that bout of confidence is probably going to bite her in the ass, but I don’t say anything, because I don’t want it to. I don’t need any extra fucking headaches at this point.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I find Osip’s number and ask for Rostam’s contact information. I know that I’m going to have to answer some questions, questions that I do not have answers to at this point.
ISABEL
Sittingat the dining room table, I bow my head as the first wife, Donya, tells Azar all about their children and the activities that they were involved with for the day. They have three children, aged fifteen, thirteen, and ten. He nods and hums when expected, but I know that Azar cares very little for the day-to-day activities of his children.
Next, Maryam, the second wife, continues the conversation and tells Azar abouttheirchildren. They have four aged thirteen, ten, nine, six, and three. He, again, hums when he’s supposed to, he probably nods too, but I’m not looking up so I’m not sure.
“What did you do today, my Isabel?” Azar asks.
Lifting my head, I inwardly cringe at him calling mehisIsabel. He only does this with me. The other women, he grunts at and sometimes calls them by their first name only. It’s probably one of the many reasons that the other wives despise me.
“She wasn’t home all afternoon,” Maryam announces.
Azar arches a brow in question. I could stab the bitch with the butter knife in my hand, but I don’t. Instead, I stay completely and totally cool and act as if I wasn’t doing anything wrong at all.
Nothing at all.
Smiling, I lift my gaze to find his. “I just needed to breathe. I took a drive to the museum and walked around all afternoon, then I came home.”
Azar’s expression changes from one of curiosity to that of almost gentleness. I know that the gentle look he’s wearing is nothing like the actual man. He will appear to be sweet, maybe even say a few honeyed words, but then when he is alone with me, he will be a vile human being. It’s just who he is.
“There is nothing wrong with that. I am glad that you had a good day,” he says, then gives me a wink.
Instantly my stomach twists.
The rest of the dinner, he turns to his children, all of which are seated at the end of the table opposite the adults, and asks them about their grades. Donya and Maryam have not discovered, or maybe they simply do not care, but Azar gives not one single fuck about their activities.
Azar wants to brag about their grades, because he is a narcissist and wants to have the smartest children in the entire universe. Nothing else matters to him except appearances. He wants bragging rights about anything and everything.
When dinner is finished, the oldest children take the dishes into the kitchen and clean up, as is their single chore in the household. A maid service cleans twice a week, which includes changing all bedding, and all laundry.
The two wives do all of the cooking, and the children clear the dishes and wash them, which typically consists of sticking them in the dishwasher. Azar stands, as do the three of us. Maryam brushes past me to the three-year-old and scoops her up, taking her to the bathroom to have her evening bath, while Donya and I follow Azar into the living room area.
“I would like to change the schedule,” Azar announces, his attention on Donya. Her spine straightens and I watch her face tighten at his words.
“Azar,” she whispers in acknowledgment.
“I would like you to get with Maryam and discuss her ovulation schedule. I would like another child.”
“With Maryam?” she asks.
She balks as if she cannot believe that he would want another child with her, but I know the truth behind her question. She wants to know why he doesn’t want a child with me. Why we haven’t already had a child together. She’s asked me before, but she will not ask him. I had no answer for her as he’s never told me. I’ve just been thankful.
“With Maryam,” he says with a nod, not giving her any more information.
“Yes Azar,” she breathes through clenched teeth.
“I’ll be shopping for a fourth wife as well. Just to keep in mind. Start to think about what room you would want her placed in.”
“Yes Azar,” she says, her tone even tighter than before.
“Good, now that, that is handled, I’m going to work in my office until bed.”
I watch as Azar stands and turns his back to us. He walks away and I imagine throwing darts at his back. Over and over until he just falls face-first. I smile to myself at the thoughts that I know I shouldn’t be having.
