The Borrowed Bride [PUBLISHED]

Chapter 11: The Queen

To be a queen of a household is a powerful thing.

-Jill Scott

Leila Fiorenza's POV

"So what do you want to talk about, sister-in-law?" I asked without preamble as soon as we reach the library, I closed the door carefully so we don't have an unwanted audience for our conversation. "I think you are not the type of person that would like a chat over the weather here in Spain to a stranger."

Her dark eyes shot daggers in my direction. To be honest, I got used to her unfriendly manner towards me. "Didn't you know that there is a dress code here in the palace during a mealtime? Why do you dress like that? Flaunting your slightly bump belly for everyone to see. What would people say about you?"

"The thing is," I told her with enough arrogance in my voice. "I don't particularly care what people will say about me. This is me and therefore they have to accept me for what I am."

"Then think about your husband's reputation!" The widow exclaimed, her eyes flashed pure hatred in their depth. Is she aware that she's too obvious? "He's a respectable man here in Spain. Think about what people will say about how inappropriate his wife dress around."

I gave her a saccharine smile as I place both of my hands in the rear pockets of my denim jeans. The gesture made my belly pronounced even more to her view. "He should feel very proud whenever people see my belly. This proves that his virility works just perfectly fine."

"You are despicable," She hissed towards me. "You are unfit to be a Condesa de Parama. I wonder what Leandro ever saw on you."

I gave her a knowing smile that made her rage even more evident. She's so easy to bait. "Leandro saw everything he's looking for a woman to me. You would be surprised how capable I am in bed. You can ask my husband how often he begs me in bed. That's why I became pregnant, isn't it? Because we're so frequent in bed—naked doing something naughty."

The widow's eyes shot of pure jealousy. I held back my victorious smile at the jealousy I saw in her eyes. "You are a witch."

"Oh, believed me," I told her cheerfully. "I was called far worst name than a 'witch' before, sugar. So if you plan on intimidating me by calling me names I can assure you that it is only futile."

She surprised me when she moves where I stood and stop once she's feet away from me. "I hate you!"

I caught her hands midway when she suddenly tried to make contact with my face. "Ops..." I told her with a smile as I tightened my grip on her wrist. "I will not do that if I were you, sugar. The last woman who slapped me got hospitalized for a whole week. I'm sure you don't want to suffer the same thing, right?"

I hide my smile when I saw her paled beneath her perfectly applied makeup. Goodness, who would wear make-up early in the morning? "Are you threatening me?"

"No," I shook my head remorsefully. She tried to snatch back her hand but I merely tightened my grip. I don't care if I leave a bruise on her delicate wrist but I'm hoping to break her wrist in the process that was more satisfying in my opinion. "I'm just telling you a piece of my past, sugar."

"Don't call me sugar!" She said as she used a lot of force to take back her hand from my grasp. "And just what kind of past you have?"

"Don't you like 'sugar'? How about 'bitter'?" I told her sardonically. "And as for your question on what kind of past I have? The only answer I can give you is my past is a colorful one."

She rubbed her injured wrist to her other hand while she threw a glare in my direction. "You are just a woman who came from nowhere. If it wasn't for the accident that Leandro made you pregnant you would not have this luxury in life."