✔️ SLANDEROUS INTENTIONS | +18

Chapter 46

HELENA

Emotional Intelligence

It's a characteristic in our persona that my husband and I possess. However, the way we use this set of skills couldn't be more different, and when they do clash, it's like a compass: my intentions point to heaven, and his to hell.

He reads people and uses their emotions to manipulate them for his success. I read people and care for their feelings, trying to help them. He empathizes only when there's something in it for him. I empathize because I'm a very soft-hearted soul.

But today, I am tempted to turn the compass needle in my heart toward the south, where Hell is. Because we have visitors, and I really want to send them south.

Antonio's stepmother-in-law and her niece visited us. Their arrival in my home brought the death of decency. That reminds me of my late mother. My mother was a very classy woman. She made sure I learned the utmost decorum. Therefore, I am not only a reflection of my mother on the outside but also from within.

So, I have always played my cards openly. I was never a flirt. When approached by a boy, my rejections were straightforward because I was never interested in them.

Moreover, I even thought I was asexual until I met my husband, who makes me bloom every night. And I'd never, ever lower myself to throw myself at a married man. However, my step-niece-in-law has no etiquette.

"Oh my God! Does my little child get angry here?" Roman asks me with a grin, trampling on my patience like the tramp he is.

Though my patience is already waning as I watch this Emily cling to my husband like a snail. No matter how many times he pushes her away, she doesn't get the message: she needs to fuck off.

I don't understand why they had to bring her to my home. She doesn't come to see the twins like Angelo does — no, she comes to my house to drool over my husband. Does she have no shame? I guess not. As I said, it's the death of decency today.

And why does she sit next to him? The moment we walk into the living room, she plops herself beside Antonio and flashes me a bitchy smile. Now, she is still glued to my husband like a parasite.

"Don't worry, Helena! That's just another Tourette — or wait, I mean Tiffany," Donny says as he drops onto the seat next to me, watching me glare daggers at Emily with my arms crossed and a scowl lingering on my lips.

"No, that doesn't count as a Tourette. Antonio fucked Tourette. But Emily? He hasn't touched her, no matter how desperate she is for his banana," Roman chimes in, offering way more detail than I need.

He nudges me on my side and continues to spill the beans. "Antonio wouldn't even screw her after Donny did. He didn't want to dip into the same vagina as his brother. But she's still clawing at him, trying to get into your husband's pants."

So this is the niece who's apparently made herself the nacho sauce for all the tortilla chips in Chicago to dip in? Must be. Now I get it better. The nacho sauce is the bitch. And the chips are the men.

"Why the hell are you telling her this?" Donny snaps at Roman as he sees the deep, pensive frown on my face, but Roman just shrugs.

"I don't know. I think I like drama," Roman replies with a sly smirk, his gaze darting to Emily. "It's been boring around here lately. I kind of want to see her pull her hair out."

"It's obvious she's here for some dick. Maybe we should call Marco. He's been busy and hasn't gotten laid in weeks." My frown deepens — are they seriously talking about who should screw her next? Yuck!

"Marco doesn't sleep around like you do. He is not a hoe like you," Donny snorts. "Why don't you just screw her?"

"And get some Tourette like you did?" Roman shoots back, leaning back against the couch with a huff. "No, thanks, my dick declines."