The Unlit Incense Chapter 1

Simon Graham had one rule when it came to his affairs: the women had to be docile.

Any mistress who dared to approach his wife would be dealt with by the next day.

But they still came, one after another, drawn to the flame.

Because I, his wife, was known to be a complete pushover.

To marry Simon, I had signed a prenuptial agreement. In the event of a divorce, I would leave with nothing. Later, to have our child, I agreed to send him to live at the family estate, seeing him only once a month.

I had no power, no connections, no friends of my own. My skills were limited to beauty treatments and flower arranging.

Until Simon's latest mistress came to show off.

"Mr. Graham is so rough," she purred, rubbing her knee. "He had me on my knees all night. They're still swollen."

I smiled, set down my shears, and led her toward the storage room.

And when her back was turned, I shoved her inside.

"You've worked so hard," I said, my voice soft. "You should rest for a couple of days. Don't see anyone."

* * *

When Simon was young, he studied under a great artisan and had a mentor he looked up to like an older brother. During his most difficult times, this mentor helped him immensely. So, when the man passed away, Simon was the first one there.

A week later, he returned with an orphan girl—his mentor's daughter. She called him Uncle Simon.

He raised her for two years.

On her eighteenth birthday, she had too much to drink and confessed her feelings. "Uncle Simon," she slurred, "I'm in love with you."

Simon’s face hardened. He forced her head under the faucet.

"Are you sober now?" he demanded.

He told me later, "If I had known she harbored those kinds of feelings for me, I never would have taken her in."

I smiled and nodded. "Of course, I believe you."

But he was afraid I'd dwell on it. The very next day, he sent the girl, Camilla, abroad. He promised she would never come back.

Everyone said Simon was heartless.

What they didn't know was that as soon as her plane was in the air, he was on the phone with a friend overseas.

"Take care of her. Make sure she doesn't suffer, that she doesn't get hurt. Tell her to be good, and I'll visit when I have time."

His friend was confused. "If you can't bear to part with her, why send her away?"

Simon took a long drag from his cigarette, his voice low and gravelly. "I can't risk it. I'm afraid Evelyn will snap and hurt her."

The friend didn't buy it. "No way. The truth is, you can't bear to part with Evelyn. You two have too much history."

A sarcastic smile touched Simon's lips, but he said nothing more.

To the world, Evelyn was the most obedient, submissive wife imaginable.

Only Simon knew how terrifying she could be.