Ivy:I don’t know if my genes stand a chance against Mateo’s dark locks.
Mom:There’s a rumor that I have a hint of Irish in me, but you’d never know it by looking at my family tree. I’m Bella, by the way, but feel free to call me mom.
I listen as they chat, smiling at the timid sound of Ivy’s voice.
If we have a daughter, I hope she inherits Ivy’s big, green eyes and soft grace and not her killer instinct.
Their short conversation regarding Jade amuses me, but I dismiss it as idle banter. Truly, what else would they talk about?
What really strikes me is how innocent my wife sounds. Ivy’s mask of frailty enchants me more than I care to admit. How can someone so sinister be so utterly beguiling?
Jade rolls the tea tray in, and their conversation shifts to my wife’s unoccupied womb.
Jade:Her pregnancy tests have all come up negative, which isn’t shocking, because despite the daily injections she gets, she failed to inspire Mateo.
Jade, oh, Jade—what the fuck do you think you are doing?
Mom:Failed to inspire?
Jade:Your son can have any woman he wants. It is any wonder that he can hardly muster the drive to visit her.
Ivy:He can have any woman he wants, yet he chose me.
Jade:Because of limited time, pressure, and distinct qualifiers. He can hardly bring himself to visit her bedchamber, and has so far only taken her twice.
Mom:Is this true?
Ivy:As you know, your son is very busy?—
Mom:Not so busy that he should be so careless with his inheritance.
Ivy:If I were you, I’d stop being so concerned with my bed.
Jade:And if I were you, I’d be very concerned with who’s in mine.
Unable to take any more, I pause the feed.
Was that real pain I heard in Ivy’s voice?
I learned at a young age how to read people. It’s essential in my line of work.
Yet with my wife, I’ve yet to detect a lie. Every part of her is innocent and sweet, and if it wasn’t for Lance’s good work, I would have surely fallen for her ruse.
I replay the scene again from start to finish, listening to the two women spar, and never once do I sense a hint of deception from my murderous wife.
A part of me thinks Lance is wrong. That Ivy is not a part of any Web, and she has no intention of killing me. But deep down, I know that’s not true.
My wife isn’t the pretty, compliant noodle I asked for. She’s dangerous. Deadly, even.
Perhaps that’s why I’m so obsessed with her.
And Jade? Well, of course, she’s jealous. She’s a weed compared to my wife.
But Jealousy doesn’t give her the right to tear her down.
That’s my job.
I bring up the feed to my wife’s room and watch as she stares at the pages of the books she’s reading, looking utterly enthralled. She’s wearing a thin, pink cami that is just long enough to fully hide her panties.
