Why the Mafia’s Wife Kills Chapter 10
I ran into Dante at the stairwell when I headed downstairs.
He’d just gotten back, his suit jacket slung over one arm.
He froze when he saw me.
“What are you doing here?” he frowned.
“Grandpa asked me to come.” I stepped around him and kept going down.
Dante grabbed my arm.
“What did you say to him?”
“What did I say?” I ripped my arm free. “I told him what you’ve done.”
“Simone!” he lowered his voice sharply. “Don’t go too far.”
“Me going too far?”
I stopped and turned to face him.
“Dante, who’s really the one who crossed the line?
Was it me when I cut her finger?
Or you when you brought your mistress into our home?
Was it me when I crashed her party?
Or you when you spent our marital money on her birthday?”
Dante had no reply.
“I redrafted the divorce papers,” I said.
“Twenty percent of the shares.
If I get even a penny less, we’ll see you in family court.
Your grandpa can’t protect you forever.
You know what Jasper is capable of.”
“You’re really going to be this ruthless?” Dante stared at me.
“You were ruthless first.”
I turned and left without looking back.
It was dark outside by the time I left the estate.
I didn’t call a car.
I just walked slowly down the road.
The estate was halfway up the mountain.
The path down was long, the streetlights dim.
Halfway down, a car pulled up beside me.
The window rolled down.
It was Lucius.
“Get in.” he said.
I opened the door and climbed in.
“Why are you here?”
“I didn’t trust you alone.” Lucius turned the car around.
“Did Antonio pressure you?”
“He gave me two choices,” I said.
“Take the money and disappear.
Or get nothing at all.”
“You chose?”
“I chose a third option.”
I sank into the seat, exhausted.
“I want the shares.
if he won’t give them to me, we sue.’
Lucius glanced at me but said nothing.
We drove back into the city.
At a red light, he asked:
“Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“What do you want?”
“Anything.”
Lucius took me to a small restaurant.
It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and warm.
The owner knew him and greeted him with a smile.
“Mr. Morretti. The usual?”
“Yeah. Two orders.” Lucius said.
We sat by the window.
The owner soon brought over two bowls of hot beef stew and two mugs of hot cocoa.
“The stew here is good.” Lucius handed me a spoon.
“Try it.”
I took a bite.
It was delicious.
Warmth spread all through my body.
“Back in high school,” Lucius said suddenly,
“you loved the hot cocoa from the stand by the school gate. Remember?”
I froze, then nodded.
i’d had a weak stomach back then and often skipped breakfast.
Lucius brought me hot cocoa every single day.
“I remember.” I said.
“You always said it cured stomachaches.”
“They tore that stand down.” Lucius smiled slightly.
“I searched forever to find one that tastes close.”
I stared at him, suddenly lost for words.
“Lucius.” I put down my spoon.
“Why are you so good to me?”
“I told you. I like you.”
“But we haven’t seen each other for years.” I said.
“People change.”
“You have changed,” Lucius nodded.
“But some things haven’t.
Like how your right eyelid twitches when you’re angry.
Like how you touch your earlobe when you lie.
Like when you’re hurt…”
He paused.
“You just pretend you’re fine and carry it all alone.”
My throat tightened.
I quickly looked down and drank my stew.
“Simone.” Lucius’s voice was soft.
“Don’t carry everything by yourself.
If you’re tired, rest. I’m here.”
I didn’t lift my head.
I didn’t want him to see my eyes watering.
Halfway through the meal, my phone rang.
It was Dante.