52

ALESSANDRO

“And where are you going to go?” I taunted her. “Back to the Calvino empire.”

Angry red blotches marked the skin on her chest and her breathing slightly labored. I pissed her off. Good.

“Alessandro.” I didn’t miss the warning in my aunt’s voice, but I never wavered my eyes from my wife. Her whole posture tensed, her gaze burning with hate.

Ignoring my aunt, I continued. “Don’t even contemplate calling them. This time, I’ll know before you betray me.”

“Fuck. You.” Sitting rigidly, her spine stiff, the look my wife gave me was a clear indication of how much she despised me.

I remembered back to our early days of marriage. We fought back then too, but we only did it when alone, without witnesses.

Even when I taunted her, she always refused to bait around my aunt worried she’d get upset. Clearly, she no longer had those qualms.

Ella walked in at that moment, breaking up the glaring contest my wife and I had going on.