My Best Friend Slept With My Mafia Husband Chapter 02

My Best Friend Slept With My Mafia Husband Chapter 02

I sat in the passenger seat without saying a word.

The Bach playing in the car made the silence feel suffocating.

In the end, Alarion could not help explaining.

“Virelle, it isn’t what you think.”

I gave a faint, indifferent hum and fell quiet again.

The next second, Alarion slammed on the brakes and stared straight at me with cold eyes.

He thought I would cower like the business partners who feared his name.

I did not.

“V, do you think giving me the silent treatment works?”

Only Alarion called me V.

Once, I had thought that single letter was special.

Now it felt sharp as a blade.

Ismeria, sitting in the back seat, broke the silence.

“What do you expect him to say? We’re all adults. We all know what’s going on.”

Through the rearview mirror, she met my bloodshot eyes.

“Since we already almost died once, I might as well tell the truth. He and I slept together a long time ago.”

“The day you went home after your father’s death? We did it in your bed. Remember those wet sheets? I didn’t accidentally knock over a pitcher of water.”

I clapped my hands over my ears, but her voice still slipped through my fingers.

“And that birthday of yours, when you waited for us at the restaurant.”

“And just now, in the airplane bathroom…”

“Shut up!” Alarion snapped.

He coldly ordered Ismeria out of the car and left her on the highway back to New York.

Then he started the car again and sent the Bach roaring through the speakers as he drove too fast.

“It was an accident. Drunken sex. Nothing more.”

“A girl like Ismeria is disposable.”

I stayed silent and remembered how I had met Ismeria.

She was a southern girl, loud and fearless, always the first to protect me when something happened.

When I was bullied and excluded at NYU, she was the only one willing to be my friend.

She had my back for four years.

I still remembered my wedding to Alarion.

She grabbed a bottle and challenged him drink for drink.

“If you can’t even outdrink me, why should I trust you to take care of my best friend?”

After that, not a single drop of alcohol touched my plate at dinner.

After the two of them emptied the open bar, they politely went out to the balcony to smoke the cigars Alarion had brought back from Cuba.

When they came back, Ismeria even had her arm draped over Alarion’s shoulder.

Alarion’s uncle drunkenly said Ismeria looked like Alarion’s long-lost brother.

But that so-called brotherhood had crossed the line long ago.

Alarion said Ismeria was disposable.

But at the last moment of his life, he had held her hand tightly.

And on his farewell note, he had written only four words.

Do not forget Ismeria.

That was instinct beyond desire.

No matter how foolish I was, I could see it.

The car shook off the police lights behind us again and stopped outside our Manhattan penthouse.

“Alarion, I’m tired.”

Alarion froze for a second. “All right. I’ll have the restaurant send dinner over.”

The bodyguard opened the car door with practiced ease.

“Donna, welcome home.”

As I stood, I saw Alarion’s phone light up in the driver’s seat.

It was Ismeria.

“I know her. If she isn’t arguing, it means she’s over it.”

“We survived death. Want to come to my place and do it again?”

As expected, the moment Alarion saw the message, the car soon shot out of the garage.

I opened Ismeria’s couple account.

Under every post was a heart emoji I had left myself.

They had traveled all over the world and seen scenery I had never seen.

Ismeria often teased me.

“Jealous? Then ask your husband to take you.”

Because she knew Alarion had rejected my request to travel the world at least ten times.

“There are too many company matters to handle. Can you think about me for once?”

He had not been busy.

He had simply given all his time to my best friend.

Ismeria’s public affection had never been affection.

It had been naked provocation.

While I stared blankly at the screen, the account updated with a video visible only to me.

Messy sheets.

Small toys scattered everywhere.

Alarion’s strong back arched as he pinned Ismeria beneath him, his desire spilling out without restraint.

“Only you make me feel this good. Be good. Let me see there…”

Yet only last night, Alarion had held me with a fevered body and taken from me without holding back.

“If I go one day without touching you, I feel like I’ve lost my soul.”

“Honey, how am I supposed to live without you?”

Then the angle changed, and I saw the tattoo at his waist.

It said Ismeria.

Not Sable.

I touched my cold, damp face.

My tears had arrived before my feelings could catch up.

I quickly closed the video, but my heart began to convulse too late.

Just then, the hospital called me.

“Is this Miss Virelle? Your mother had a sudden heart attack. She just passed away.”

In that instant, my entire world collapsed.