Page 8 of Bad Husband

“That suit, for one. Totally custom-made. There is no way shop-bought suits fit like a freaking glove. It molds to his whole body. Have you seen it?”

This made her laugh and she nodded.

“Not to mention his watch, designer, I can tell these kinds of things, and also, no man like him has ever come through these parts,” Heather said, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “He has no interest in me but I can tell you, he cannot take his eyes off you. Do you know him?”

She hated lying, but this was a time she needed to. “I’ve never seen him before. He looks a little too ... dangerous to me. I think he’s a criminal.”

Heather laughed. “That would be wonderful. I love that. Anyway, I need to use the bathroom. I’ll see you out there.”

Chiara left Heather to it, and made her way back out into the busy diner. Her first day was an absolute disaster all those months ago. She got every single order wrong, the coffee was terrible, and she dropped several customer orders. She freaked out and sobbed to Rosemary that she would get better. Rosemary offered to train her, and that is exactly what she did. She’d gone from being the worst waitress to the best one. She was even better than Heather, and according to Rosemary, she’d been working here for nearly four years. No one complained about Heather, as she enjoyed the extra bonuses.

Marco was still at the diner. He stayed through breakfast, even though she saw his disgust at waffles and bacon. She didn’t care and refused to get involved with him.

The day was baking hot, and the AC still wasn’t working. She was pretty sure she watched Marco wipe his brow a few times, but that didn’t stop him from leaving.

By the time it was her break time, Chiara was happy for the reprieve. Usually, she ate out in the main shop, as she happened to love Rosemary’s cooking. It was one of the perks of working at the diner—she got fed for lunch. If they had leftovers, she would get dinner as well, but that was not always the case.

For lunch, she had a large burger with some cheesy fries, and it looked so good. She got Rosemary to pack it up, and rather than eat indoors, she made her way around the back and sat on the wall outside the diner. It wasn’t the best view, as there were a lot of trash cans filled with recycling, not just from the diner but from the shops down the street. There was also a little stench, but she would rather eat by herself than have Marco for company.

She took a bite of her burger, and as she did, she couldn’t help but think of her wedding day. Marco had been so cold. Not a single smile on his face. Their wedding had been arranged, as were all couples within the Bove Mafia. There was no escaping the ritual. She tried to reason with her father, but he said of all the men considered, Marco was the best.

He was a cruel capo. Ruled with an iron fist, and he didn’t accept betrayal. Anyone he had doubt about he would kill. She should have known his reputation was lethal.

Chiara was afraid of a lot of things, and on her wedding day, it had been her husband. The kiss they shared at the altar had been sweet, kind of cute. Their first dance also hadn’t been horrible. He held her gently, not bruising, but firmly. He made sure no one hurt her or upset her. It was a good day.

The night had been horrible. She’d been a virgin, and it was her wedding night, and it hurt so badly. When it was over, she recalled rolling away, being in so much pain. Marco had surprised her by pulling her into his arms and pressing his face against her hair. It had been sweet.

Their honeymoon started out as a nightmare. She wanted to go exploring through Italy, but Marco refused. She was bored, and eventually she snapped and told him she was a person who felt real emotions. She said if he didn’t want to have a honeymoon with her, then they might as well go back home.

That changed everything. She did worry he might kill her for being disrespectful. Instead, they had fun. He took her out shopping and sightseeing. They went to the beach and even played volleyball with a few families who asked them to join in. Marco had been hesitant, but when he saw there was no danger, he got involved.

Finally, at night, they actually had sex, making love, and he showed her with his hands and body that it didn’t need to be a constant nightmare.

A nightmare arranged marriage had turned into something of a dream. She loved every second of it, and for a full year, they had the perfect marriage. She started to fall in love with Marco. When no one was around, he was the perfect gentleman, and she got to see a side of him that filled her heart with joy. Sure, it sucked when they went to parties and he was stoic and unmoving. She saw the real him, and she adored him.

That was all in the past, though. He ruined it. Her life was never going to be the same again, and it was his fault for not trusting her, or believing her. He ended something special.

All she wanted now was to be left alone to her new life.

Chapter Four

Chiara disappeared throughout lunch, and Marco couldn’t find her anywhere. The dinner remained busy, but the one named Heather handled everything. She was a flirt with all the customers, some with whom she disappeared into the bathroom. Was he just supposed to ignore this kind of behavior his wife was associated with?

Angelo wasn’t taking his calls. This was not part of his plan, and he wasn’t used to being ignored. After an hour, Chiara finally arrived, and she let Heather go.

She spent the best part of the hour ignoring him, apart from filling his coffee cup. Other than that, she treated him like a total stranger. It pissed him off.

By the end of the day, after he ate dinner, which was a burger and fries that he hated to admit was rather tasty, he was kicked out of the diner. It was close to eight o’clock, and there were only a few people in the building. He went to his car and watched for Chiara.

Heather left first. Ten minutes went by, then twenty, and he finally had enough and made his way back to the diner, seeing there was still a light in the back. He slapped his hand on the window. Back home, he wouldn’t be shown this kind of disrespect.

The older woman finally made her way toward him, giving him a disapproving look. “What do you want?” she asked, opening the door.

If looks could kill, he actually believed he’d be on the floor, completely winded.

“Where’s Chiara?”

“What is it to you?”