A Week Later
"Damn you, Rico! How much fucking longer would it take you to give me feedback already?"
Those words which had flown brutally from the speaker's voice decorated the bedroom space with fury.
It was Belinda who had blurted out those words.
Feeling antsy, she walked rigidly, stomping the transparent tiled floor violently with her pointed stilettos as she made for where she had kept her mobile phone.
She found it and picked it up.
"If he couldn't fucking do the job, why waste my time and my money?" she spouted out venomously as she went ahead to dial her spy in Saraceno—[Rico].
The past couple of days had been a lot but with regard to the communication approach to her husband, the gap had further drifted apart because they had not talked again, apart from the last time. Also for every time she had tried to place a call through, her line kept going straight to voicemail.
Hence...