As if the moment I said anything that threatened his relationship with this girl, he'd claw my eyes out himself.
"My apologies, sir, miss. I was just studying your composition for the portrait." I kept my voice even. "I'll start now."
Something flickered in Russ's eyes. Surprise.
He was probably wondering why I wasn't making a scene.
After all, I'd confronted him about the photos with the young model in his car. The late-night hotel visits with the internet celebrity. The housekeeper in the bathroom...
Every time, I'd demanded an explanation.
So why was I so calm now?
"Could you two hold hands? Move a little closer... more intimate..."
Once they adjusted, I began to draw.
I worked fast, capturing their likeness on paper with efficient strokes.
The moment I handed over the framed portrait, my phone buzzed. A message in our group chat.
[Russ, your wife didn't throw a fit this time. We lost that bet big time.]
[You were right—ignore her enough and she learns to behave.]
[Bro, you sent that to the wrong chat. She's in this group.]
Both messages vanished—recalled within seconds.