NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Martial Problems (2)

‘This motherfucking clown.’

Nadia thought, her teeth grinding hard enough to crack porcelain.

She crossed her arms, her wet hair dripping onto the tiled floor as she leaned closer to the door.

And then she heard Artis’s voice, all shaky and fake-apologetic, tossing out his “little brother” routine. The phrase made her heart sink and her rage bubble over at the same time.

‘My brother’s apologizing to this sack of shit? Fucking unbelievable!’

Nadia’s blood pressure skyrocketed. She was torn between sadness that Artis was being made to feel guilty and fury at her husband for pulling the world’s worst guilt-trip.

But then, Chen had to go and push it further.

“Your stupid sister—”

That was it. That was the final straw.

The door slammed open like Zeus hurling a lightning bolt. She stepped into the room, dripping water and pure rage, her towel barely holding her modesty together.

The air in the room changed instantly. Chen froze like a deer caught in headlights, his shirt half over his head. His gut instinct screamed, don’t move or she’ll attack.

Nadia’s eyes zeroed in on her husband, now shuffling backward toward the bed like a coward.

‘Hmpff! Look at this spineless bastard.’

Nadia fumed internally, her glare drilling into Chen like she could set him on fire with sheer willpower.

‘What happened to all that drunk confidence, huh? Where’s the man who had the audacity to call me stupid? Oh, right, he’s sitting there like a whipped puppy who just pissed on the carpet.’

She scoffed audibly, watching as Chen nervously fiddled with his sleeves, avoiding her gaze like his life depended on it—which, frankly, it did.

‘Pathetic. Fucking pathetic. What did I even see in this loser? He can’t even look me in the eyes, let alone defend himself. Gods, was I drunk too when I said yes to him? Must’ve been, because this… this is just sad.’

Her irritation boiled hotter with every passing second, her lips twitching as if ready to unleash a tirade of words sharp enough to cut steel.

But then, she whipped her head away, not wanting to waste another second glaring at her so-called husband.

And that’s when her eyes landed on him.

Her little brother.

The one man in the room she had desperately hoped to avoid. The one man who had been living rent-free in her head since a few days…

And he was looking right at her.

Those hawkish, knowing eyes locked onto hers with the kind of intensity that could undress her soul.

He leaned casually against the table , like he owned the room—or maybe the whole damn world. His lips quirked up in a faint smirk, like he knew every filthy thought running through her head right now.

Her anger evaporated like a puddle in the desert sun, replaced by something far more dangerous. Heat pooled in her cheeks—and lower.

Her breath hitched, and she instinctively swallowed hard, as though that would do anything to keep her composure intact.

‘Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!’

She screamed internally, feeling her knees wobble slightly.

‘Why the hell does he have to look at me like that? Like he’s already won whatever this stupid game is!’

Artis didn’t move. He didn’t have to. His gaze alone was doing all the work, leaving her a flustered, squirming mess.

She clenched her fists, desperately trying to keep her expression neutral, but she was failing. Miserably.

His eyes roamed down her body like a drunk pervert browsing a buffet table.

First, they lingered on her lips, still glistening with droplets of water, as if she’d just sipped the fountain of “fuck me” itself.

Then, his gaze slid down her neck, tracing the path of a bead of water that had the audacity to roll between her cleavage, where her bathrobe valiantly tried—and failed—to contain the majestic peaks of her bazoongas.

The robe strained at the seams, clearly working overtime without hazard pay, while the rest of her body was practically gift-wrapped for a goddamn party.

His eyes kept going, sliding down her thigh to where the robe ended, leaving just enough bare skin to make his thoughts nosedive into the gutter.

Artis, in all his shameless glory, smacked his lips like he’d just seen the juiciest steak.

Suddenly, he bolted toward her like a horny bull charging a red flag. Before Nadia could process what the fuck was happening, his body slammed into hers, and his arms locked around her like she was the last slice of cake at a buffet.

“Sister! I didn’t know you were dealing with this much marital trauma. Tell me, what has this dumbass brother-in-law of mine done to you?”

His voice dripped with dramatic concern, but Nadia was too dazed by his sudden man-hug assault to even process his words. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, trying to piece together what just happened.

Then, his question hit her like a slap.

The fuck was he even asking? He knew what the problem was. Why the hell was he playing dumb now? But then, a thought popped into her brain.

‘Ohhhh, maybe he’s trying to give Chen a subtle hint. You know, like a wink-wink-nudge-nudge situation, without spilling the beans. That must be it. He’s protecting me and our little… activities.’

Of course, the truth was much simpler: Artis just loved messing with people. But Nadia’s horny, overly dramatic brain decided to take the scenic route to conclusions.

‘Hmpf! Like hell I’ll help Chen figure this out. Let the dumb bastard work for it!’

With that, she stood there, arms crossed, pretending to ponder the depths of her “martial issues,” while internally giving herself a high-five for her genius plan to stay silent.

“You should ask your fucking brother-in-law about the matter. You’re not getting shit from my mouth,” Nadia snapped, shoving Artis away with all the indignation of a queen whose throne had been stolen.

She strutted toward the full-body mirror, her bathrobe swishing like she was on a goddamn runway. But before she could bask in her reflection, Artis struck.

With the precision of a man with zero fucks left to give, his hand delivered a playful slap to her ass, the sound echoing like a gavel in a courtroom.

“Yelp!”

Nadia spun around, her glare sharp enough to shave diamonds, but Artis leaned in, his lips brushing close to her ear.

“Be prepared, I’ll be stuffing that leakage real soon.”

Her eyes widened, her breath hitched, and for a split second, she was a deer in horny headlights. Then, in a panic, she scurried to the mirror, pretending to adjust her robe while internally combusting.

Meanwhile, Chen, oblivious to the chaos brewing behind him, wrestled his undershirt on like it owed him money. Finally dressed in his guard uniform, he turned to Artis, scowling.

“Come on, brother-in-law. I don’t have time for your dumbass antics. Let’s get to the palace. At least there, I’ll have some fucking dignity.”

Artis smirked, clearly having no intention of leaving anyone with their dignity intact.