“They wanted us to come over for dinner, to celebrate your birthday. Relax, it will be fun.”
Salvatore doesn’t say anything. Instead, he drives to Gavino’s. I’m on pins and needles, hoping that he doesn’t get upset about the party. He doesn’t seem to want to do anything tonight, and I don’t understand it. Out of the both of us, he is definitely the more social of the two.
“What is it?” I ask as he pulls the car up the Santoro’s driveway. I want to find out what the problem is before we go inside.
Salvatore shakes his head, then turns to me and leans in. “I’m fifty,” he announces.
I hum before I answer slowly. “Yes, I know.”
“I’m old,” he grunts.
Lifting my hand, I cup his cheek and search his eyes with my own. “You are amazing,” I whisper before I lean in and touch his lips with my own. “And you have more stamina than you did at thirty-nine when we got married.”
He grunts, pressing his mouth against mine in a hard kiss, then he nips my bottom lip before shifting backward a bit.
“Yeah?” he asks, his lips curving up.
Smiling, I tell him yes. Then I’m about to ask him to show me tonight when Benton starts to cry. He chuckles, and the mood is lifted as he opens the car door and jogs around to my side to help me out. I stand and smooth down my dress before grabbing the diaper bag as he takes Benton out of the car seat and Brynn joins us.
Together the four of us walk into the house, but I stay back slightly, allowing Salvatore and the kids to go ahead of me. Then it happens, the whole house erupts in shouts of surprise.
Salvatore stops walking and looks over his shoulder, his eyes wide, and I hold my breath, hoping that he isn’t going to be angry about the party. But then his lips curve up into a smile and he winks. Walking up to him, I tilt my head back to look up into his eyes.
“Perfect, bambola,” he rasps.
His lips touch mine. I take the kids and guide Brynn over to the backyard, where the rest of the little ones are playing. Keeping Benton in my arms, I watch her run out there. Paola is standing nearby, her head dipped as she stares at her phone and simultaneously “watches” the kids.
“She’s getting paid. I don’t know what to do with her,” Luciana mutters beside me.
Turning to look at her, I laugh. “She’s a teenager. What can you really expect?”
Luciana rolls her eyes to the ceiling, then lets out a sigh. “She’s trouble, Rosana, I’m telling you. That girl is going to be the death of us, her father for sure.”
“She’ll grow out of it,” I murmur.
Luciana snorts. “Not before she drives Vino and me insane.”
Smiling, I look over to Luciana. “She’ll be okay. Paola is a good kid.”
“I hope you’re right. The girl only thinks about boys.”
“We’re different from our kids, all of us are,” I say. “We didn’t have the luxuries that they do. We were worried about a million different things, but boys and dates were not high on our list. Consider it a blessing that those are her biggest hurdles.”
“You always make me feel better, Rosana.”
Shaking my head, I give her a smile. “You’ve held my hand through some serious shit. I’ll hold your hand through the teenage girls,” I say with a laugh.
Luciana smirks. “And in about five years, I’ll return the favor.”
“Oh god,” I moan.
The rest of the night we talk, eat, laugh and then have birthday cake. I have so much fun that I forgot it’s not my birthday, but instead Salvatore’s.
By the time we are home, Brynn is passed out cold, along with Benton. We each carry one of the kids to bed, dress them and tuck them in, then make our way to our own room. Salvatore closes and locks the door behind him before he starts to undress.
“Was it okay?” I ask, unsure of how he feels, considering he’s been completely silent the entire way home.
Salvatore reaches for me, wrapping his hands around my hips before he tugs me against his chest and looks down into my eyes.
“It was better than just okay,” he murmurs before he touches his lips to mine.
We don’t speak the rest of the night, and I’m just fine with that. I don’t hold in the whimpers and cries of pleasure, so it’s not as if we’re silent. And Salvatore doesn’t hold back his moans and groans either.
Lying in bed, trying to catch our breaths, I roll over and press my front against his side. Looking at him, I can’t hold back my smile. My lips brush his cheek before I whisper in his ear.
“I love you, Salvatore. Happy Birthday.”
“I love you too, bambola. Thank you for my party.” He wraps his arms around me and holds me close to him. “Not too bad for fifty?” he asks.
Laughing, I shift my body, pushing upward, and look into his eyes. “I told you, more stamina than when we were first married. It was amazing, just like you.”
He smirks, lifting his head to touch his lips to mine. “Okay, bambola, sleep now.”
Curling against him, I close my eyes and I do sleep. I fall asleep easily, just like I do every night. It happens this way because I am loved, I am cherished, and I feel safe—finally.
Becoming her Ex
A Zanetti Famiglia Short Story
Prologue
SIX MONTHS AGO
ERMANNO
The papers sit in front of me, ready to sign. Next to those, the images of my wife head down, ass up, with another man’s dick buried deep inside of her. I should sign the papers and be done. Send them off to be filed so that she can be served. End this now before anything else happens.
Thinking about Valentina being with anyone else makes my entire body ache. She is mine. She was mine the moment that I saw her, even if she didn’t want me, even if she wasn’t sure about me.
I have always been sure of her—always.
Until now.
Now I stare at this picture, wondering if I could ever forgive her, if she would even want me to? She pretends as if she is happy, going through the motions and smiling when she’s supposed to. Touching me when she’s supposed to.
Pretending.
Playing her role.
I could keep her. She won’t ever try to leave me, but that isn’t fair, not to either of us. I don’t want her to hurt—I never did. I just want to be happy. I want her to be happy with me. I’ve ruined that though. I’m just not enough for her—for us.
There is a knock on the door, and I lift my eyes, looking up to see Gavino walking into my office. Frowning, I lean back in my chair. Gavino isn’t my direct boss, that title belongs to Benicio, but he is Benicio’s boss, so he is well above me and deserves all of my respect.
“We need to talk,” he announces before he walks in and sits down in the chair across from me.
VALENTINA
I should not be doing this. I know that it is wrong as soon as I slip on the sexy black underwear with intent for someone other than my husband to see it. But I do it anyway. I do it, not to be spiteful and revengeful. I do it to feel something.
All I want to do is feel again.
I’ve been numb for years. But this danger, this is a thrill and I need it. Even if I feel sick the moments leading up into it, and afterward.
It’s wrong. I know that it is. I hate myself every minute of every day, but I still do it. I pray that Ermanno will forgive me one day, though I don’t know if I will ever live to see that day. I fear he’ll kill me before I do, and honestly, I would deserve it.
I would welcome it.
Chapter One
ERMANNO
Boss.
Never in my life did I think that I could be a boss. Yet, here I am. The Trevisani famiglia is mine for the taking… well, for the most part. I will still answer to Gavino. That does not change, but I will be running a famiglia essentially on my own.
The divorce papers that Salvatore drew up for me months ago sit on the corner of my desk, next to the contract to become a boss. I can’t be a boss and divor
ce my wife. I cannot have a real marriage with her either, at least not the way it’s been going.
I don’t know how to fix things. I don’t know how to accept the fact that she fucks another man, then comes home and sleeps next to me.
“Ermanno,” Benicio’s voice booms.
I didn’t realize he was even in my office. Lifting my head, I look up at him. He smirks as he sinks down in the chair across from mine.
“The time has finally come, it’s really happening.”
“What is?” I ask, unsure of what he’s talking about.
He chuckles. “You’re going to be a boss, officially. Sign those papers and get the fuck out of here.”
Lifting my eyes to Benicio, I shake my head once. He doesn’t know what has been going on between me and Valentina. Nobody does except Gavino and Salvatore.
I didn’t want him or anyone to know I feel guilty that it’s happened. I’m just as much at fault as she is. Granted, I’m not the one fucking someone else, but that doesn’t mean that I’m the perfect husband to her, either.
“When Gavino brought this to me, I had decided to file for divorce,” I announce.
A weight lifts from my shoulders immediately. I didn’t know that I needed to say the words as much as I did. Benicio leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he inhales a deep breath, then lets it out.
“And now?”
“You know that I can’t,” I murmur.
“Valentina know?”
Shaking my head, I clear my throat. “She doesn’t know that I have pictures of her fucking another man, let alone had the papers drawn up.”
“Ermanno,” Benicio groans.
“If I sign these papers, I need to work this shit out with Valentina.”
“Do you want that, with her?”
I think about his words for only a split second. I know the answer, I know how I feel. “I love her,” I admit.
“Then sign the papers. The rest will fall into place, or it won’t, and you’ll have to marry someone else. Or maybe you just live as roommates and have your relationships out of the home, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I grunt, though the thought of that makes me feel sick to my stomach.
VALENTINA
Sitting in the living room, I wait for Ermanno. He texted me and asked me to be home and waiting for him, that he had something he needed to discuss with me. My heart slams against my chest, unsure of what he could possibly want to talk to me about.
Does he know?
Am I going to be killed?
He has every right to end my life. I’ve fucked someone else, a lot. I knew the moment that my clothes came off, the second he touched me, that it could be the end of either or both of us. I did it anyway.
I need to feel.
I need to feel my heart beating and it doesn’t with Ermanno. Not anymore. I still love him. I don’t think that I ever will feel anything but love for him. I’m dead inside though, completely and totally dead.
The front door opens, and I look over my shoulder to see him walking into the house. He doesn’t even look up as he makes his way into the living room. He has a folder in his hand, wearing his beautiful suit, handsome as ever as he approaches me.
I should feel something for him right now. I should want him, but I’m broken. I’m completely broken.
“We need to talk,” he announces.
Swallowing, I watch as he walks over to the chair across from me and sits down, his legs spread and his gaze slowly lifting to meet mine. He looks really serious, beyond serious, and I can’t do anything but hold my breath and wait for what is about to happen.
“I have an opportunity,” he begins. “But we need to figure out what the fuck is going on with us first.”
“Us?” I ask in a whisper.
He nods his head once, his gaze finding mine, and he holds it before he speaks again. “Yeah, specifically you fucking someone else.”
Chapter Two
ERMANNO
Valentina’s entire body freezes. Her eyes widen and I have never seen the look of a deer caught in headlights more expertly shown in my life. This is it though. She didn’t think that I knew, truly. My own wife didn’t know that I had her figured out months ago? Interesting.
Either she thinks that she’s that good of a liar or she thinks I’m that fucking stupid. Maybe I should get rid of her now, then. Be done with her. Not only does she fuck someone else, she obviously thinks that I’m too goddamn stupid to figure it out.
“Valentina,” I murmur. “I have an opportunity for my career, in the famiglia. But that opportunity means you can’t just spread for whoever you want and disrespect me the way you have been.”
“Disrespect?” she asks, her tone almost a sneer.
Arching a brow, my lips twitch in her direction. How the fuck dare she? How dare she try to make this out to be on me.
“Yeah, disrespect,” I snap. “You fucking someone else is disrespectful to your fucking husband,” I roar.
She doesn’t even flinch at my words. Instead, she stands to her feet and looks down at me as she crosses her arms beneath her chest. My gaze flicks to her tits, then back up to meet her eyes. As much as I want to stare at her body right now, I can’t. I’m too pissed off.
“Fuck you, Ermanno. You don’t even give a shit about me. You come home late, you eat, you sleep, you leave before I even wake up in the morning. That is not a marriage. We’re roommates.”
“Is that what you want?” I growl, taking a step toward her.
She is stuck between me and the couch, with nowhere to run as I wait for her answer. “What are you asking me?”
Her voice comes out breathy, and she almost sounds scared. Maybe she fucking should be. This farce has gone on long enough. I’m at my goddamn breaking point, especially with the way she’s acting as if this shit is on me.
“I’m asking you, Valentina. Do you want to be my roommate while I make a life with someone else?”
Her eyes widen, her face pales right before a look of devastation crosses her face and it’s then that I realize she doesn’t want that—not really. The problem is, I don’t know what the fuck she wants.
Before I do something that I cannot take back, I turn and walk away from her. I leave the house completely.
VALENTINA
I am too stunned to move, to speak, as Ermanno walks out of the house, slamming the door behind him. I hear his car start and he leaves completely.
Maybe we need a few hours to breathe. Then, my own breaths start coming out in pants as I sink down to the cushion of the sofa and attempt to keep from passing out.
Looking around the living room, I’m not sure of what to do. What do I do? Then I see it. The file that Ermanno was carrying was left in the chair he abandoned. Looking over my shoulder at the door, I look back at the chair and reach for the file.
Holding the papers in my hand, I just stare, unsure of what to do next. If I open them and they aren’t for my eyes, I could get into some serious trouble with the famiglia. I could end up dead, but then again, I could end up that way, anyway.
Pressing my lips together, I hold my breath and open the file. Looking down, I start to read what looks like a contract in front of me.
It’s a contract from Gavino for Ermanno to sign. A contract that names him as the acting Boss of the Trevisani famiglia. A Boss. Not an Underboss, but a Boss.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
Then I look at the next document and my stomach flips. Divorce papers. Scanning them, I notice that they were dated six months ago. Oh my God. He’s known for months. Tears fill my eyes. But they don’t fall, not until I see what is behind the divorce papers.
Me.
Head down.
Ass up.
My lover fucking me from behind.
That is when the tears fall. My husband saw this. He knows exactly what I’ve been doing for months. He doesn’t know why, not completely, but he knows that I’ve been with someone else. No wonder he hasn’t touched me, no
wonder he has been absent.
I’m a bitch. A terrible person. He should get rid of me. I don’t know why he hasn’t already. Putting the papers back together, I slip the folder back where I found it in the chair and I decide to make dinner.
It’s too little too late, there is no going back, there is no pretending that I haven’t been with someone else. But if we don’t put it out in the open, there will be nothing left between us either, and I’m not sure that isn’t worse than death.
Chapter Three
VALENTINA
I sit at the dinner table, food getting cold as I wait for Ermanno to come back home. I halfway expect him not to make it home at all. But thirty minutes later, he walks through the front door.
Holding my breath, I wait for him to make his way into the dining room and am not disappointed when he stands at the doorway, his focus on me and nowhere else.
“I made dinner,” I rasp, my gaze searching his face.
He doesn’t move right away. He stares at me from across the dining room and I lift my hand, motioning for him to sit across from me. He clears his throat with a nod and does just that, sinking down in the chair across from me.
“I agree. We need to talk,” I murmur. “But we also need to eat.”
Ermanno doesn’t say anything right away. I can tell he’s a bit taken aback by the meal I’ve made. It’s a traditional Italian meal, something that I don’t do often. Not only do I not cook well, I really don’t cook Italian well, but this time I tried.
“I found the folder and I read it,” I admit.
His eyes widen as he puts his pasta on his plate, then he clears his throat before he speaks. “And what did you find?” he asks.
Becoming her Salvation (Zanetti Famiglia Book 7) Page 28
