My Arranged Marriage Husband Was A Beast In Disguise Chapter 08

My Arranged Marriage Husband Was A Beast In Disguise Chapter 08

Clara and I went way back. All the way to childhood. Back to the year my mom died. 

People say kids don’t know any better. That’s exactly why what they say cuts deepest. 

I grew thorns so no one could call me the motherless girl. 

Overbearing. Arrogant. Impossible. So what? 

I had a rich dad. I could say the sky was green, and people 

would still nod and call me brilliant. 

Clara was everything I wasn’t. Sweet, graceful, effortlessly 

warm. Everyone’s favorite. 

Nobody wanted me around. They all wanted Clara. 

So I hated her. Or I told myself I did. What I really hated was being measured against her and coming up short every time. 

Clara never flinched. She treated me the same way she treated 

everyone else – with the same easy warmth. 

I could ice her out for days, and she’d just smile, tilt her head, and say, “Valerie, you really don’t make it easy to win you over.” 

God, I hated her for that. 

I picked fights. Talked behind her back. I even took unflattering photos of her and “accidentally” sent them 

around. 

I wanted her to hate me back. I wanted her to lash out, get 

nasty, prove she was no better than me. Then at least my jealousy would make sense. 

She never did. 

Every petty thing I did slid right off her. And that made it 

worse. 

I didn’t know what I actually wanted from her. 

All I knew was that the first time Clara gave me a birthday present, my instinct wasn’t to throw it away. It was to hug her. 

After my birthday, something shifted in Arthur. 

He was always on his phone. I never saw who he was texting. 

And sometimes he’d get this little smile – the kind people get when they’re reading something that makes them feel 

wanted. 

He even started sending voice messages – in perfectly polished English, without a trace of his drawl. 

That stopped me cold. 

I’d told him a hundred times to lose the drawl. He never did. So 

why now? 

I had a guess. I didn’t want to be right. 

Then one day I came home from shopping and found Arthur dressed to kill. That was when I knew something was off. 

He was facing away from me, phone in hand. I scanned him 

from head to toe. 

The ratty clothes were gone. Every piece on him was designer. 

Current season. Immaculate. 

One thought hit me: who the hell gave my country husband a 

makeover? 

I stood in the entryway. He hadn’t noticed me yet. 

He spoke into the phone, voice smooth and polished – zero drawl. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll give it a try.” 

He tapped send. 

Who was this man? Where was my husband, the one who sounded like he was hollering from a porch? 

The comments arrived right on time. 

[LMAO the MC dropped his accent for the FL, I can’t.] 

[The power of love… terrifying.] 

[The villainess told him a HUNDRED times, and nothing. FL shows up once, and suddenly he’s speaking newscaster English.] 

[Wait – has no one noticed the villainess has been standing at the door for ages and the MC hasn’t even looked up?] 

I kicked off my shoes at the door and walked in. My face blank. 

Arthur heard me and turned. Panic flickered across his face. “Darlin‘, you’re back?” 

I gave him a flat “Yeah” and walked past. 

As I passed, I caught a scent. Something crisp. Woody. Arthur had never worn cologne before. 

Right. So my husband was falling for someone else. 

My legs felt like dead weight on the stairs. My face gave 

nothing away. 

Before I shut the door, his voice drifted up from downstairs – drawl and all. “Darlin‘, you eat yet? Want me to heat somethin‘ up for ya?” 

I paused. There it was. The drawl was back. 

I called back that I’d already eaten. Kept my voice even. 

Then I shut the door, pressed my back against it, and felt my pulse doing something it had no business doing. 

I’d promised myself I wouldn’t care. Promised myself I’d leave the second the female lead showed up. 

But watching him change for someone else – his voice, his clothes, everything – why did it sting like this?